Unusual Suspect

This morning on the way to the gym (yes, this time it was on the way there, not on the way home), the only other person on my side of Broadway for several blocks was a man about half a block away. It was still pre-dawn, so I couldn’t see him that well, but from what I could see, he was in his late 60s or early 70s. He inched his way up the block toward me with the aid of a wheeled walker.
The first thing I thought was, “Oh god, now there’s an easy target for a mugging. If someone’s out looking for prey, this guy’s going to be a pushover.” I started to feel a little sorry for him and his inching and his hunched-over body, and then pictured him mangled and twisted in a doorway, his wallet (a bifold, I imagined) spread open beside him, both of them the victim of a $4.00 crime.
Then I started to worry. Not for the welfare of him and his hunched body, overcoat, wheeled walker, wallet, and $4.00, but for my own safety. The wheeled walker and inching feet were ploys to throw me off and gain my sympathy so that while I was thinking, “Oh, that poor old man”, the 25-year-old ruffian that he really was would straighten up, kick aside the walker with feet that all of a sudden could run quickly enough to close the 20 feet between us in a millisecond, and then pull a huge gun (with silencer) from beneath the overcoat and kill me for the $40.00 in my bifold wallet.
I hummed silently as I approached, feigning nonchalance. I looked away slightly as I passed (not a good idea, because I was thus giving him ample opportunity to attack), holding my breath. And then felt his massive arm throw itself across my throat and tighten against it as the cold steel of the gun pushed itself against my face.
And then I quickly looked over my shoulder and saw the old man slightly hunched over his walker, inching his way down the sidewalk to prey on his next victim.