How Not To Act in a Hostile Situation

For lack of anything else to talk about here is a fun story about me a being pretend badass one night a year or so ago:

It was around 2:30 a.m., I had just gotten off the metro on my way home from work. The walk from the metro to my house was about a half mile. As I’m sure many of you know you, could live in the safest neighborhood in the world (which I certainly didn’t) and you still wouldn’t be super comfortable walking around it in the middle of the night. Unless you’re drunk of course, then it’s totally natural taking a 4 a.m. stroll through where ever. I didn’t have the benefit of my beer muscles so I was on the lookout for any sort of mischief. Maybe I’m just naturally paranoid, or maybe it was the fact the it was P.G. county, but every time a car passed me I was pretty sure I was getting jacked, I was always suspicious of the person walking towards me, but for the most part I made it home unscathed on a nightly basis so my paranoia was unfounded.

On this night as I was walking home I noticed 4 kids walking up ahead, approximately 15 to 17 years of age. So that natural suspicion kicks in again and I think to myself, 4 kids wandering the streets this late on a Tuesday cannot be up to anything I want to know about. With that I mind I decide I’m just going to lag behind until they pass my street where I can turn and go home. There seems to be a fundamental difference between a bunch of kids hanging out doing nothing and someone who spent the last 10 hours getting beers for drunk a holes, because they simply were not walking at an acceptable pace. Eventually I gave up on avoiding potential trouble and just passed them. That was my first mistake, remaining patient is a key to avoiding potential conflict. Here’s the conversation that ensued as I walked by and one the little pretend gangstas jumped in front of me:

Fake Thug: “Hey man, what’s up?”
Me: “Hey”
FT: “Don’t run away.”
Me: “I’m not, I’m walking home.”
FT: “What’s in your bag?”

I should mention that I had a bag slung across my shoulder carrying random things that like my iPod, a book, change of clothes, etc. I should also mention that I was a waiter at the time so I made all my money in tips. I would usually try and get to the bank every few days and deposit the cash so I didn’t spend it as quickly. That day was one of those days, only I had forgotten to stop at the bank so I had like $800-$1000 in my bag. There was no way I was letting these little dickheads take my bag.

Me: “Don’t worry about what’s in my bag.”
FT: “Motha fucka you see all these brotha’s behind you, you better give me your bag.” (Note: edited for content because I’m white and I’m pretty sure even if it’s in a quotation I’m still not allowed to use the word he really used.)
Me: “Dude, I’m not giving you my bag, just leave me alone.”

Right then one of the other kids grabbed my bag and tried to rip it off my shoulder, spinning me around in the process. The original FT used this opportunity to start sucker punching me from behind, which I thought was pretty weak but whatever (also he didn’t have much pop, he hit like a girl). As I’m wrestling with one guy for my bag and getting punched in the face by the other guy I can’t help but notice that the other to kids seem pretty nervous about the whole ordeal. This only helps in hard my resolve. I mean, how can I get robbed by someone whose heart isn’t even in it? If you’re going to commit a crime at least commit to it. So I throw a few elbows and eventually wrestled the two kids off of me. I guess me fighting back was a little unexpected because they gave up and started walking away. That should be the end of the story, but then you wouldn’t be factoring in my usual bad decision making skills.

Maybe I had a bad day at work, maybe it was the redhead in me kicking in but I was feeling a little feisty that night. I started taunting them. Probably not the best idea, but really, you just had an unsuccessful attempted robbery of a 140 lb. white kid, you deserve to be made fun of. In anyone found out you might even get kicked out of the ghetto. Anyway I may have called the one kid a “bitch” and said something to the effect of “why don’t you come over and try something without your boys backing you up.” He took this to heart apparently. The two more aggressive of the bunch turned back and started walking towards me.

One kid was threatening to stab me. I didn’t put much stock in this threat because he was wielding what appeared to be a broken coat hanger. The other guy said, “what did you say to me motherfucker?” (He had a bit of a potty mouth) To which my response was, “I said you are a bitch.” He got in my face and grabbed my shirt with both hands. That’s when I saw my opening; he dropped his guard, so I absolutely drilled him in the nuts. I mean right square in the balls. I know it’s kind of an unwritten rule that a dude doesn’t kick another dude in the junk but he wasn’t fighting fair so why should I. Anyway, he dropped in total agony. The other kid was few yards behind saw this, abandoned his stabbing threat, and took off running. The end.

So what did we learn from this whole trial? First thing is that I’m an idiot. Who narrowly avoids a complete ass beating and then taunts the people for not getting the job done? Second, I’m a badass. I didn’t think I had it in me but I was wrong, I am definitely badass.