So I leave work early and head to the location of the protest. No one there. Well there was one guy with a camera, but no indication that he was there for the protest. He could of just been a random guy with a camera. I log onto my smart phone to verify if I have the right location and wouldn't you know it, it would work. Right when I need it. 

At this point I figure I must be in the wrong location and see a group of people around what is Pioneer Square. I start walking up there and figure of course it got moved there. With so many people protesting it makes sense. Along the few blocks to Pioneer Square I see a guy yell at the woman "Fuck you bitch!" and start to run away. She begins chase. It seems like a domestic disturbance between two youths, until she starts yelling "Thief!" and "Robber!"

My civic duty kicks in and I think "I should help this young lass," but they are half a block ahead of me, and surely someone else will help. I continue on my way wondering if the thief will run around the block and end up right by me. He does.

I see him and he sees me. At this point there is no choice but to pursue. He takes off and I follow him into Pioneer Square Mall. He still has a quarter block on me.When I enter the mall, I lose him. It is at this moment I realize three things. One, I don't really know what the lass looks like who is claiming the theft. Two, I don't know what he stole. Three, I don't really remember what the young lass looked like. Never got a good look at her in the first place. I disengage from the chase and have to let him go. 

I mean, if I do catch him, what am I going to say to an authority figure. He stole something, don't know what, from someone, don't know who. At one point in all of our lives we have stolen something. I, personally, have stolen a heart or two. What if he had done the same. I don't know this. When I steal someone's heart I generally don't run away, but have been known not to answer a phone call.

Ideally, I would of liked to of caught the guy and return the stolen item to the young lass. She would of been so overwhelmed with chivalrous charity that she would of offered all of her belongings and her body at any moments notice. I would of then told her, "Sorry miss, my heart belongs to another." And been on my way, never telling her my name. Years later we would meet and she would tell me of a white knight who came to her rescue and I would tell her it was me, Nick James. Where I would still inform her that my heart has still continue to belong to another. Where she would tell me to then please take her controlling share of Facebook stock, and I would accept graciously.

That would be the ideal situation. More than likely, in a week I will forget all about her and the robber and the entire incident unless one day I read this note, which is unlikely. And that was my first protest in Portland. I only saw one person protesting, and that was cause someone had robbed her. A very good protest indeed.