During the day you can, anyway. You see, in the last few years the Capitol Police have been losing their grip on this special patch of land. During the daylight hours, the National Mall is still one of the nicest places to see in Washington. But, at night, it’s getting to the point where you’d have to be someone reasonable disturbed to walk the mall.

Being disturbed is the perquisite. But, bad luck helps too. I must have both working for me. You see, it just so happens that the closest metro stop for me tonight is the one located right in the middle of the National Mall, and, as I got there, there just so happened to be a mugging taking place.

At the top of the stairs leading down to the metro, I’ve come across a man holding a young black woman a knife-point. The guy couldn’t even wait until they got down the stairs where no cops would see.

Like I said, bad luck.

But, maybe not all bad. You see, a few weeks ago I failed to act in this type of situation. An armed robber was in a convinence store that I was at, and I—someone who likes to think of himself as a moral person—did absolutely nothing. I’ve felt like crap ever since.

Now I have a chance to redeem myself. Now I have a chance to do something.

The guy doesn’t even see me coming up behind him. He’s too busy telling the woman in front of him to give him her purse.

A car for the Capitol Police has just turned to come up the street. I’m going to have to make this quick, because that guy’s going to run the second he sees them.

I close the ten yards between us and swing my fist as hard as I can, connecting with the back of the man’s head. He hits the ground, completely limp just as the police switch on their lights.

There’s no way I’m going to stick around to talk to the police. The woman is screaming now, she’s so scared that she can’t grasp what has just happened. I notice that she’s bleeding from he left forearm and looks to have been crying for quite a while. I can’t begin to think of how she must feel.

I turn and run. The police aren’t going to follow me, not with an injured woman and an unconscious mugger to deal with. It won’t matter if they radio in my description and get the other officers on patrol to look for me, because by then I’ll be blocks away, waiting for another train at another metro stop.

As I run, for the first time in as long as I can remember, I genuinely feel good. I’ve made a difference. I smile.