One GT reporter shares a first-hand account of Saturday night’s riotous events
My Saturday night started peacefully enough—studying at a cafe, and later deciding to take a walk with a friend. Around 11 p.m., as we returned to Pacific Avenue from our stroll to the Wharf, we heard the murmurs of a crowd and went to see what the commotion was about. The first thing I saw was a shattered shop window next to Lulu Carpenter’s, and two guys in sweatshirts pulling a mannequin out through the broken glass, smiles on their faces. On Lulu’s outside patio, a grown man in a business shirt and tie was seated in a chair, clutching his face and crying. A shard of glass, it appeared, had hit him in the eye and roughly 30 people were gathered around watching while someone poured milk over his face in an attempt to expel the glass.