Welcome to "The Point"

For the 3+ years that Ryan and I have lived in Locust Point, we have encountered many incidents that we have coined "Point Stories". There are some things that happen in The Point that just wouldn't happen anywhere else. See, The Point is comprised of the new residents and "the locals". To put it lightly, the locals are a working class that like to unwind in the Point watering holes and subsequently provide us entertainment.

As we were walking home from the water taxi yesterday we added yet another Point story to our collection, albeit a mild one. We decided to use it to preface some of our favorites.

We were walking down Hull St. Ryan was pushing Hudson in his stroller and Ryan's parents were walking behind us. About a block ahead of us, there was a man and two women walking towards us, obviously locals. The one woman started to wave to us as she stumbled. She was shouting "SHHHHH - BABY. NO CUSSIN'! THERE'S A BABY - SHHHHH! As they got closer, I saw the woman approaching the stroller as I quietly shouted "RYAN - WATCH HER!" under my breath. Ryan was just like "okay..." and swerved around her as she bent down to touch Hudson. Afterwards Ryan and I just looked at each other and said "The Point!".

Now that story has NOTHING on most of our other Point Stories. I'll try to recount some of them, but there really are too many to remember. (And I'll invite Megan and Jay to add any of their Point Stories in the comments to this post.)

There was the time that Ryan and I were searching for the ice cream lady and we saw a man with blood dripping from his head walking around with a club in his hand. He followed us all around and I was certain that he was going to jump us (I even devised a self-defense plan in which my Heath alter-ego would be released). Instead he sat down on a stoop to someone's house and had a beer.

Or there was the time that we were walking towards the ice cream lady (do you see a theme??) and we saw a man sitting on a stoop yelling across the street "I'm going to jail tomorrow" with a pronounced slur. Ryan was like "who is he talking to??". I was like, "I'm sad to say that he's talking to that dog". He continued to subject the canine to his sad story.

Or there was the time that Ryan and I were enjoying our ice cream on our front stoop while I was noticably pregnant. A young guy who lived in the known "drug dealing house" approached us with his pregnant girlfriend. The pregnant belly was all he need to see to initiate the conversation. He told us many intimate details of his life including his attempts to get his ex-girlfriend pregnant (which failed because the girl was on drugs), his own struggles to maintain a job and his drug dealing stint, and his run-in with his baby mama's drug dealing dad's friend in which he lost part of his shoulder to a bite wound (we even saw the scar).

Or, my personal favorite, the time when I was reading outside on our stoop (no ice cream involved). An old (~80 years old) man was walking, errrr... stumbling, in front of me. He noticed there was a bird on the sidewalk that began to move. He was very confused and looked at me, asking if I did that. I was like "huh??". He told me that he thought I had the bird on a remote control. Upon hearing that, I just pretended to read again. As he passed by, I looked up again and the entire backside of his pants was wet and brown....

We couldn't make this stuff up.