The Window Story

The meat of this story takes place Thursday, August 18th 2022.

I had just got back from a family vacation to Watkins Glen, NY the same day.

For context, at the time I had bleached platinum-blonde spiky hair and a raggedy brown beard. So safe to say I was pretty identifiable. This will become important later.

2022 was a simpler time. I was a junior in college, living in an apartment in Towson. Evenings were spent food running at Papi's Tacos, bumping Baby Keem's ORANGE SODA. Nights were spent at the bars acting abhorrently, blacking out and climbing rooftops. Mornings were for recovering.

The night I came home from vacation I went out for drinks with a big group. Mostly coworkers of mine at Papi's. I can't remember who all was there. But Gracy, this kid Lance, Frank, Dom, Knowles, and Anna definitely were. We went out to our usual spot in Towson, Bread & Circuses. I was wearing a black sweatshirt with a mushroom on it, and pink tie-dye shorts.

At 2:00AM, the bar closes and it was time to go. I leave, not in a clear state of mind. I'm liquor drunk and rowdy.

I'm walking up ahead of the group with Knowles and Anna. We walk by Kerb, a local food spot open late that's around the corner from Bread. Knowles says something like "Those our people in Kerb". Like a reflex I go to the window, jump in the air like I'm the Karate Kid, and kick it. This wasn't the first time I had done this. I had done this once before and it didn't break. I figured, like last time, I would just bounce back without doing any damage. And that's what happened the first time. I kick the window. No damages. The manager is yelling at me from inside to stop. Wisely, I kick the window once more. Kicking the shit out of it this time.

SHATTER

Everything's in slow motion. Knowles goes "Oh no..." The group still leaving Bread hears commotion. What happened? I take off running. The manager of Kerb, Masoud Athari, is yelling, chasing after me. I never looked back. I'm darting down different streets (Gracy claims a wiener dog was chasing me too but this has never been confirmed). I didn’t stop running till I got home. I get inside my house, on the verge of hyperventilating. And then I wait for people to get back and tell me what happened.

The rest of the group arrives at my house and tells me the cops came and interviewed them. Oh shit Thankfully my friends are the shit and lied for me, saying that my name was Chris and they just met me tonight. However, as Knowles had bleached hair too at the time, and our group was often seen together at Bread together, the police didn’t believe their story.

I'm trying not to freak out. We discuss how we should change some of the names of the contacts in my phone in case the police were to look at our texts. In a panic I change Anna's contact to 'Avery' and Knowles' to 'Mr. B', which is still his contact to this day.

I check my pockets. My wallet is missing. Shit I tell them I gotta go back and find it. What if the police find my wallet by the crime scene? Then they’ll have my ID. I throw on a red College Park sweatshirt with the hood up and start walking back, accompanied by Frank and Dom. Frank taking this opportunity to tell me how brainless I had just behaved. Appreciate the honesty, Frank.

We arrive at Kerb. There’s a crowd. Cops, along with people just observing the shattered window. I'm trying to keep a low profile, scanning the ground for my wallet.

A homeless man looking at the window asks me if I heard what happened. “No”, I lie. “Someone threw a brick through the window” he tells me. “No shit” I reply.

I didn’t find my wallet. I get home, fearing I had finally dug myself a grave too deep to dig out of. I fall asleep, hoping it was all just a bad dream.

The next morning I wake, still drunk from the night before. Reality sets in. Last night was very real and isn't going to just disappear.

I tell my roommates Finley and Nate what had happened, as they didn’t come out with me the night before. “Boys I fucked up so bad” I tell them. “I kicked in the window at Kerb." After assessing the situation, they discern that I need to change my appearance and keep a low profile. If I'm not seen around Kerb for the next couple months, I’ll be fine. This was already sounding difficult as I was an avid frequenter of the Towson bars. Soon after, Gracy comes back over and shaves my head and face in the bathroom, leaving me with just a mustache. Our disgusting bathroom was now littered with bleach blonde hair and dark beard hairs. Within minutes I went from looking like a super saiyan character to a sex offender.

I call my friend Thomas who’s Dad is a lawyer. I tell him what I did and ask for some legal advice. Thomas says he'll talk to his Dad and get back to me, while calling me an idiot in the process, which was more than fair.

That night I begrudgingly go out with Gracy to Five Guys and Feet on the Street, a music festival in Towson. I was in full costume. Shaved head and face, beanie, glasses, a chain around my neck. I looked like a douchebag. Yet I was still looking over my shoulder, fearing any second an officer or Masoud himself was going to spot me and take me away in cuffs.

Me and some friends go to Hampden the next day, Saturday August 20th. I was viewing this as my last day as a free man. Might I have to drop out of college? I made sure to live it up, getting a big breakfast of eggs, pancakes, and bacon at Golden West Cafe like it was my last meal on death row. I remember buying some earrings for my girlfriend at the time, thinking this would be my parting gift before serving my sentence.

The anxiety of waiting for the other shoe to drop was killing me. Fortunately, I wouldn’t have to wait long.

That night I'm home, stressing about the situation. Thinking my life was over before it had even started. It hadn't even been a full 48 hours since the incident. All of a sudden, my phone starts blowing up. "Cops at papis" the first text reads. Knowles, Anna, and Gracy all hit me up individually. Oh fuck. I start hiding my weed in my nightstand. Knowles leaves work out the back looking to avoid talking to the police at all. Gracy starts having a panic attack, fearing I was about to get absolutely fucked legally.

I call my girlfriend and tell her cops are on their way and I’ll let her know how it goes. Here we go I say to myself, taking a deep breath. At this point I had no choice but to accept what was coming to me.

I go outside barefoot, head held high and wait on the curb for the cops to arrive. Cop car pulls in and I walk up to it. They ask to see my ID. I tell them I lost it the other night when I was running from them. This at least set the precedent that I was going to be honest. The Towson police pulled the classic good cop, bad cop. One cop seemed more understanding of the situation. He joked it was punishment enough that I got rid of my bleached hair. The other looked at me like I was the scum of the Earth. He even suggested I might have an anger problem. I tried to explain I just had a lot of energy and was drunk, but they were adamant that I needed to rein in my drinking.

Apparently they had me on multiple security cameras. Kicking in the window. Sprinting away. I asked if I could have a copy of the footage. I was met with the quickest "No". Still bugs me to this day.

The cops inform me that Masoud is yet to press charges and my best bet would be to go talk to him and try to sort this out. Out of options, I agree.

Finley and Frank drive me over to Kerb and wait for me in the car. I go inside Kerb just two nights after my crime with my head hung low and my tail tucked between my legs. I apologize. I tell them I was drunk and that I was sorry for running and I wanted to make things right. Masoud tells me the trouble I caused him, and how he even cut himself cleaning up the glass. But he took mercy on me. He told me he had a son around my age, and he wouldn't want to see his life get ruined over a dumb mistake. We agree I'll pay for the damages and we can put this behind us. $1,500 check.

My wallet even got found. A construction worker found it on the street, saw my ID and reached out to me on Facebook. Since I never check Facebook, I never saw the message. So he then reached out to my sibling, August who was in Africa at the time. August texts me soon after, informing me someone reached out to them about my wallet being found. I was able to set up a meeting to get it back. Looking back, I should've paid that guy.

I meet Masoud at the PNC Bank in Towson. I shake his hand and hand him a check for $1500. Here is where the iconic picture was taken that got posted to Kerb's social media.

This was a particularly chaotic period of my life. The very next day after the cops came to my house, Sunday August 21st, me and Finley drive 3+ hours to Virginia Tech to pick up my kitten, Boogie. Wednesday August 24th I leave for a NY trip with Knowles and Nate. Saturday August 27th I get a tattoo on my arm of some flowers, which I wanted to get to represent being less impulsive. Fitting. Truly an eventful 10 day stretch.

Following the incident, I made a point to pop into Kerb and make conversation with Masoud most nights I was out. He’d give me a warm greeting and affectionately refer to me as “Window Guy”. Shoutout to Masoud. The realest fucking guy. Genuinely saved my life when he had every reason not to.

In the end, no one got hurt. Nothing got put on my record. My parents didn’t even find out till years later when I decided to tell them. Still probably the dumbest thing I’ve ever done, but now has become a pretty classic story for that era of Towson hijinks. If you're ever in Towson, go check out Kerb. Pretty killer cheesesteak. Window could be a bit sturdier though.