Thursday, May 14, 2009

Safe in the hood...

I never thought I'd say this, but it pays off to call some of the scariest people in my hood my "friends" (ok... this word might be pushing it...). The reason I give some of those guys even a second of my time is usually - plain and simple - fear. The fear of... what!??? Well... let's see. The other day I came home from work, but coudn't go my usual route, due to police blocking off the entire road. As I turned left to get around the obstruction, I caught a glimpse of a white sheet in the middle of the street, covering up a body. Now - I am not sure ifthat person got shot, stabbed or hit by a car, and frankly I don't care. All I know is that my behind will not be found in such an unfortunate position if I can halp it. So yes... I am a sissy, I own up to it, and that's the end of that tale.
On my way to buy cigarettes in the evening I might pass one of the "crack houses" and might be stopped by one of the guys asking me for a cig. And instead of saying "sorry... I don't have any", I say "I am getting some right now, and I'll give you one on my way back".
And so, one of my "friends" is a rather dangerous looking guy who works at the liquor store around the corner. He's got the whole nine yards... tatoos everywhere, a big scar running down his face from temple to mouth... the kind of guy who surely carries at least two weapons with him at all times. But - liking my beer as much as I do, and being a "regular" there, we greet each other by name, shake hands and are pretty much buddies.
Quick shift in story;
recently I have gone back to taking public transportation again. Maybe because it is getting warmer and I don't mind listening to my "gay- pod" for the hour the bus takes to go up to work. And in the morning it is no problem at all. The people at the bus stop are there for a reason and with the purpose of going to work. But the other day I had a "split shift"; meaning: I went to work from 9am - 11am (which I took the car for), and then had to go back to work at four, taking the bus. Now... at 3 pm the bus stop is another story. This time around you have all the crazy ones just "hanging" at the corner, looking at me like I am from Mars. It became clear very quickly that this was no place for little old me to be spending my time. Rowdy guys started a "play- fight", pushing each other closer and closer in my direction, kids looking at me up and down, whispering. I am sure it didn't help that I nervously played around with my $300 mp3 player or my BlackBerry. I finally reached the point where I thought: "I'll give this bus two more minutes before I go back home and take the damn car. Screw going green!!!" And just in that moment, the crowd on the street got quieter, and I notices how the loudest kids on the corner shut up and moved out of the way. From the distance I saw Will - my scary liquor store friend - walk down the street to work. I mea... people litteraly move out of the way to let him pass. And what does he do? He walks right up to my with his hand reaching out to me, said "wassup, ben (he thinks I'm ben... but who cares) how you doin'? good to see you!" and walked on. From that moment on I was the safest person in Trenton. Nobody blinked at me... not a peep!
Yayy... here's to victory and to the right kin of friends at thie right time!!!