How I Spent Three Hours of my Tuesday Night.

Life is strange sometimes. I finished work and headed home. I had to stop and get cigarettes for the wife and since it was early enough I bought a lottery ticket. Hey, you never know! Anyway, home I go and that’s when I notice that I didn’t have my ticket. I call the convenience store and they’ll hold it for me.

So I eat dinner and watch The Daily Show and The Colbert Report. After that I head to the store. It’s only a couple of blocks away so I walk. To make it more pleasant I take my Discman. Sorry I haven’t moved up to iPods yet. Listening to the Marshall Tucker Band, (yea, I’m old), it’s a pleasant night and I have an uneventful walk to the store. I get my ticket and am on the way home.

Now the walk is simple. Cross and down Fourth Street, a four lane state route, past the supermarket and fast-food place. Then a pizza place and converted house that is a very nice bar/restaurant. That’s on the corner of first St and fourth St. I’m going to turn left and head to second St. to third St. where I live. At this time of night I cross a fairly deserted highway. As I pass fast-food place a black kid is walking towards me. He has earbuds in and we nod as we pass. Is it racist, I don’t know, but I’m watching for any quick shadows approaching from behind out of the corner of my eye. I don’t turn down the music, but better safe than sorry. I like to think I would have checked if the kid was white.

Nothing happens and I’m being foolish. So I continue walking it’s blacktop to the corner. About fifty yards from the corner I see a dark mid-size SUV pull up to the stop sign, sit there for a second and then back up.

“Dangerous Road” is playing and I’m approaching the corner. On this corner is the bar. Being it’s after hours the place is closed. The SUV is sitting there with just its parking lights on. As I walk past I look at the passenger and see a another black kid in a hoodie. Remember what song was playing? I walk past the SUV and hear a noise. (door slamming shut), I turn around and this kid is coming towards me fast. I pull the headphones off and this is punk is saying “Give me everything you got”

I start backing up and he’s just coming at me. That’s when I see the gun in his left hand. I’m a little worried. He racks the slide and points it at me. I keep backing up saying “I haven’t got anything”. I didn’t either. I had one dollar in my pocket, the lottery ticket, my Mets hat and the Discman. He’s holding the gun sideways. It’s not a large caliber. Probably a .22 but shit! My heart is beating just a bit faster. I’m talking just a bit faster saying, “I ain’t got nothing”. I can be forgiven the double negative.

Ever since I heard that door slam I knew I was trouble. My mind was racing a mile a minute with options. Most included not pissing my pants. I got nothing but my Discman in my hands, and I’ll be damned I’ll throw it at him! Sometimes that Scot blood shows through. By now I’d probably backed up about 15 feet but he was hanging close. I couldn’t charge him, he’d get a shot off and besides there was a second guy driving the SUV. I was fucked.

It was then that the driver did get out.

Shit! I might outrun one bullet. {Meaning a jack rabbit run and hoping he sucks at actually shooting it.} Then I start thinking how much it’s going to hurt. How far I can get with a bullet in me. I don’t like this one bit. Or….I start shouting at them, at the top of my lungs. “Police!” “You can’t have anything” “Help!” Now it’s 12:30 am. Houses are dark. Street is empty, other than me and two black kids. One of which has a gun pointed at me. I’m still backing up. Chuck Norris I ain’t!

I keep yelling at them and anybody else that happened to be listening, I hoped!

I see lights come on in the two closest houses. I’m still shouting. The two of them turn and run back to the SUV. That’s my signal and I head in the opposite direction as fast as my short legs will go. Think any Looney Tunes cartoon you’ve ever seen. Dust, blurred feet, those little curly cue lines. I turn my head just to make sure they are going. I see the SUV turn right onto the highway and that’s good enough for me.

I run down to the cross street and see a house with the downstairs lights on. I’m winded. The front porch is enclosed but the inside door in open. Some one is up. I knock on the door. Okay, I pound on the door. I guess my adrenaline was a little jacked. An elderly lady appears. I ask her to call the police. I might have still been shouting. Did I mention the adrenaline? She turns and heads into the house.

I don’t see a phone. I do see her husband appear at the back of the house. I ask him to call the cops. I still don’t see a phone. Around the corner comes a car. It’s my son. He was out on a date and was going to steal a flower out of a yard on our street. He sees me and thinks I’m arguing with the people in the house. Did I mention the adrenaline? I see him and tell him to call the cops. His date is a sheriff’s daughter.

She dials 911. I tell the cop what happened. Three times. Did I mention the adrenaline? Why do they need your name? You can have my name when you get here! Then I see a friend, a state trooper actually in his shorts at the other end of the street. He’s got his gun belt on. I walk up and tell him what happened. His house is about five down from where these kids tried to rob me.

Now black and whites start appearing. I give them a description of the vehicle and kids. You can’t outrun the radio. And they don’t. Two miles up the road at a Mobil station. They actually stopped at the pumps. One was inside buying almonds. And maybe dumping the guns and hoodies.

Back at cross street they ask if I want to go for a ride. Now usually, when I’m getting in a black & white, it’s in the back seat. Maybe bracelets. This time I get to ride up front. Lots of room up here. Back seats in cop cars, for those of you not familiar, are kinda cramped. Up to the station we go.

When we get there, there’s a lot of cop cars there. Sheriffs, city cops, K9 unit. Lots of goings on. I ID the kids. I ID the vehicle. The vehicle 95%. I didn’t get a good look at the plate, I wasn’t wearing my glasses. The kids I’m 75% sure. They matched the builds I remembered. Although I was watching the gun the most.

So I gotta work in the morning.

Finally I say so, loud enough so that they take me down to the station to fill out as deposition. Did I mention the adrenaline? So down to the police station and give my story. I’ve told it about eight times by now. So three more won’t hurt. Long story short. I’m there another hour plus. Meanwhile my son has arrived at the station to pick me up. I think this story isn’t finished.