I’m Not Racist…

June 26, 2014 at 11:10 am (Cussed Dumbers, That's not funny...)

I get punched by random black guys all the time.

I wish I were kidding, but it’s true.

I was in a fight in 1989. It was pretty cool, I was tripping on acid and defended my home and women from a drunken intruder. I threw his ass down the stairs and left him half-paralyzed for six months. Sure, I felt like a tough guy, but it was silly, and it cost me an already-dead friendship. I’ve never been much of a scrapper, preferring to talk my way out of things. It’s worked well for twenty-five years.

But sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do…

I’ve already gone into the first fight, which wasn’t so much a fight as a random dude walking up and punching me in the face.

I mentioned a Samuel L Jackson lookalike. His name is Kevin, and he IS an asshole. He’s been living in the shadows of The Avenue as long as I have been working the Nightclub Store. He will come in to bum books of matches, and call me names when I charge him a nickel. He does a lot of fast-hands action, which I watch like a hawk. Then I get it.

The race card.

“You watching me cuz I’m black?”

“No, I’m watching you because you’re acting shifty.” Telling it like it is.

“Fuck you, white boy, you hate all niggers.”

“Dude, have you seen my girlfriend?” Rain, in case I haven’t mentioned it, is black. So is Angel. Yes, I am as ginger as Miss Grant.

“You know, I have seen you walking with some sisters,” he muttered.

Hmm, is that what this is about?

After more insults and name-calling, I decided to kick him out. Not 86ed from all stores/picture on the wall kicked-out. Just simply “I’m not serving you. Leave the store.” I have that right.

There’s another guy, Darrell Q Thomas. He’s a crackhead and aggressive bully, also a lifer from The Avenue. He got on the MAX one night, decided to ride almost all the way home with me. He sat across from me, half a train-car away, giving me the death-stare. I gave it right back. I also spent most of the trip planning what I would do if he got off at my stop. There is a long walk with a lot of brush, and if he tails me he will not live to see morning.,

Fortunately for both of us, he got off two miles before I did. But it left me on edge, and I decided I’d better gear up for a rough summer.

Things mellowed out for a couple weeks. I relaxed, quit looking over my shoulder. Then, one night Rain and I decide to go downtown for a night stroll and a low-impact date. I stopped at the ATM at Big Pink downtown, and as we left the building a MAX train approached. Cool!

We walked toward the MAX, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Kevin approach. He was marching straight toward us, with a purpose. As he got within a couple of feet he raised his hand, yelled “Don’t you EVER disrespect me, you fat motherfucker…” He took a swing, and I ducked aside just in time. He grazed my jaw in the same place cracked-out Spike Lee did. Aughh!

I came around quickly, grabbed the sleeve of his jacket as he kept throwing punches. He couldn’t connect, and it was making him madder. Rain dove into the mix quicker than Courtney Love at a Slayer show; she got between us and screamed, “DON’T YOU HURT HIM YOU DIRTY MOTHERFUCKER!” She was scrapping and scratching, and trying to de-ball him. I fell a little more in love with her at that moment.

Back to the action: He was trying to get me down, and I wouldn’t go. We spun a couple times, and I squared up. I looked him in the eye, brought my hands up to a defensive position, and said, “Okay, motherfucker, I’m ready now.” I eyeballed him, as Rain grabbed my sleeve.

“C’mon, get on the train. C”MON!”

I went to the train. The operator was on the phone, presumably to the cops. Great. The last thing I wanted was a friendly pat-down. I’d have some ‘splainin’ to do. So I hopped the train, and stared at Kevin and his piece-of-shit bicycle as we pulled out. He glanced away first. I think he thought he was attacking The Cowardly Lion, and got Chewbacca instead. Portland Police rolled past me and gave me a hard look, but nothing came of it.

I split with Rain. I met her at the Nightclub store, where I documented the event in the crime book. Since I wasn’t on duty, I didn’t *have* to call the cops. This is one I want to handle in the schoolyard.

Kevin was scarce for a couple weeks, then he popped up again. He’s been lurking in the shadows near the Nightclub Store, and comes in when I’m not working. Testing the boundaries, seeing how much he can get away with. Dr T and Rumpole have asked if he’s 86ed, and I tell them to use their best judgement.

Don’t do it on my account.

Because what I have planned for Kevin will work a lot better for me if I can catch him inside the store…

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: