He thought he had done his homework perfectly. He saw a gray-haired man standing alone in an empty garage, an easy target to bully into submission before the sun fully rose and the neighborhood woke up. He didn't know the deep history of this district, and he certainly didn't bother to learn my morning routine.
I reached up slowly, carefully keeping my hands empty. I didn't reach for the pen on his clipboard. Instead, I grabbed the cuff of my left flannel sleeve and rolled the fabric up past my elbow.