It was the wee hours of Saturday morning and I was working one of my hu$tles. My day had already gone over the 12-hour mark; I was tired, cranky, and ready to call it a night. As I approached an intersection, I eased onto the brakes because of the car stopped at the light ahead of me.

What I saw next was like something out of bad dream: a shadowy figure falling into the street. But it wasn’t a carjack or a homeless person asking for money. It was an elderly man; he went down just behind the back bumper, coinciding with the traffic light turning green before the driver sped off. As my headlight illuminated the struggle, I could make out two dogs attacking him. One was a sandy-colored pit bull and the other was a Rottweiler mix. They were working in concert, biting the man’s head, face, hands, and legs. He put up his forearm to keep them away from his throat.

Unlike what’s suggested by the title of this post, there is no way anyone would expect to run across something that random. But being prepared is a perpetual state of mind that allows the observer to take in what is happening, no matter how shocking, and take appropriate action.

Getting as close as I could, I leaned on the horn and yelling at the dogs from my window. At first, they paid me no mind and, with only a pocket knife in my immediate arsenal, I began to think I was going to have to get out and confront them. I don’t have the best luck when it comes to attacking dogs and, considering they might be rabid, I didn’t want that. Thankfully, they backed away and I rolled my vehicle between them and the man, telling him to jump into the front passenger’s seat.

He was bloodied, grateful, and alive. I had a feeling that, had I not been rolling down that street at that exact time, he may not have fared so well. As he rocked back and forth, begging me to retrieve his bag which had been left in the street, I argued with the 911 dispatcher. I know it’s standard to ask certain questions but the details weren’t as important as getting some help on scene ASAP. Fortunately, a police unit happened to roll by, and I was able to get their attention.

In a creeping, hoodoo-inflected orchestration, New Orleans-based Dr. John spins his musical tale about being in the right place, but at the wrong time. It’s almost comical, definitely danceable, and funky as hell. And, sometimes, those are the cards life deals: a hand that is unexpectedly bad. However, it’s our duty to observe the landscape, analyze the situation, and make the correct decision.

“Study long, study wrong” is a saying used by domino players, trying to get their opponent to hurry up and, hopefully, lay the wrong tile onto the table. I chuckle because no one typically talks shit during a chess match. Every move is pondered before being executed.

So, what does all this have to do with hu$tling? It has everything to do with conditioning the mind to, within reason, be limber enough to adapt, strategize, and hopefully overcome.

You should expect that certain things are be addressed in regular intervals, like paying bills; these can be planned for and scheduled. Other situations present themselves on the fly or at random occasions, such as an opportunity or a tragedy. Between extreme optimism and permanent pessimism is a baseline reality. Live there. Put yourself into positions where you are ready for great things to happen but not completely rattled when the unexpected rears its ugly head.

“Luck” favors the prepared and it just so happened luck was on my bloodied passenger’s side that night. He got the medical attention he needed and the canines took a shotgun-assisted ride to Doggy Heaven, or wherever the hell bad dogs go. We never exchanged names and it really doesn’t matter. Once in the ambulance, he thanked me. I nodded, we bumped fists, gave the police my information, and I was on my way. Crisis averted, it was time to get back on my grind. Shit, there was still money to be made.