Another life experience
This entry will be relatively short, since I have to go through the bother of alternating between typing an dholding an ice pack to my head. Why an ice pack, you question? Well, it's funny that you ask me that, so here we go down flashback lane.
The time was 9:15 p.m. The place, the Pleasant Mart on Pleasant Heights by my brother's house. I had just dropped Autumn off, and I was stopping to buy a black n' mild for Matt. Irrelevant to the rest of our story is the fact that I was cut by 2 dudes in line while I was already standing there. I went back to the car and got in, where Rich (for those of you who know him. No, I'm not talking about Rich Romanosky) was leaning in Matt's window talking to him. There were 4 black guys chilling around the car who began talking to me whilst I was bound to stay in my parking spot because of Rich occupying Matt. They were saying the typical type of shit I've heard on a number of occasions from people trying to get rides.
"We're just going to the other hill."
"That's essed up making us walk in the rain."
etc. etc.
Now I must admit that the entire incident was my fault because I was STUPID enough to succumb to these guys' pleas for a ride. They say that nice guys finish last. I guess I've never believed enough in that statement to let it affect my actions. Thus: I'm giving 3 strangers a ride--just to Lawson, I said.
As our car approaches the bridge, they tell me to take a left, so I do. We proceed one block up, and I stop and unlock the doors. I have three shifty guys in my back seat, which is piled high with hats, clothes, and other stuff from me staying places over the qweekend, and I don't want anything to turn up missing.
In geting out of the car, it is a serious understatement to say that they took their time. Making all delay and throwing dumb excuses for it my way, they got into position.
I hit the first one up through my partially opened window, then opened it farther to hit the other guy up who got out my side. As I went to shake his hand, the other one delivered a full-armed punch to my face. The adrenaline was explosive, but above all I was shocked and confused, not really being sure what was happening. Before I could gain my bearing, my door was pulled open and the larger of the African American gentlemen was punching me with all he had in the head. Meanwhile, the African American citizen who got out Matt's side punched him twice and tried to reach for my keys. Somehow, they had managed to turn the car off, but not get the key. Thank God for Matt, who blocked the one guy's hand from getting the keys, which allowed me time, eventually, to get the car started and in gear and speed away, doors slamming close from the acceleration. Just to think, the one had been trying to unlock my seatbelt, and the other was going for the keys. If I would have been alone, who knows what would've happened. If they would've succeeded in pulling me out of the car...?
All I know is that I took in excess of 4 punches to the head. What does this mean? I'm going to have a huge black eye and probably a swollen lip. I'm going to the police station to sign some papers or something tomorrow morning. Thankfully, Matt knew two of the guys' names, so they're not getting away for nothing. Also: I'm totally not going to class tomorrow. I'd say getting jumped is a pretty good excuse, eh?
The time was 9:15 p.m. The place, the Pleasant Mart on Pleasant Heights by my brother's house. I had just dropped Autumn off, and I was stopping to buy a black n' mild for Matt. Irrelevant to the rest of our story is the fact that I was cut by 2 dudes in line while I was already standing there. I went back to the car and got in, where Rich (for those of you who know him. No, I'm not talking about Rich Romanosky) was leaning in Matt's window talking to him. There were 4 black guys chilling around the car who began talking to me whilst I was bound to stay in my parking spot because of Rich occupying Matt. They were saying the typical type of shit I've heard on a number of occasions from people trying to get rides.
"We're just going to the other hill."
"That's essed up making us walk in the rain."
etc. etc.
Now I must admit that the entire incident was my fault because I was STUPID enough to succumb to these guys' pleas for a ride. They say that nice guys finish last. I guess I've never believed enough in that statement to let it affect my actions. Thus: I'm giving 3 strangers a ride--just to Lawson, I said.
As our car approaches the bridge, they tell me to take a left, so I do. We proceed one block up, and I stop and unlock the doors. I have three shifty guys in my back seat, which is piled high with hats, clothes, and other stuff from me staying places over the qweekend, and I don't want anything to turn up missing.
In geting out of the car, it is a serious understatement to say that they took their time. Making all delay and throwing dumb excuses for it my way, they got into position.
I hit the first one up through my partially opened window, then opened it farther to hit the other guy up who got out my side. As I went to shake his hand, the other one delivered a full-armed punch to my face. The adrenaline was explosive, but above all I was shocked and confused, not really being sure what was happening. Before I could gain my bearing, my door was pulled open and the larger of the African American gentlemen was punching me with all he had in the head. Meanwhile, the African American citizen who got out Matt's side punched him twice and tried to reach for my keys. Somehow, they had managed to turn the car off, but not get the key. Thank God for Matt, who blocked the one guy's hand from getting the keys, which allowed me time, eventually, to get the car started and in gear and speed away, doors slamming close from the acceleration. Just to think, the one had been trying to unlock my seatbelt, and the other was going for the keys. If I would have been alone, who knows what would've happened. If they would've succeeded in pulling me out of the car...?
All I know is that I took in excess of 4 punches to the head. What does this mean? I'm going to have a huge black eye and probably a swollen lip. I'm going to the police station to sign some papers or something tomorrow morning. Thankfully, Matt knew two of the guys' names, so they're not getting away for nothing. Also: I'm totally not going to class tomorrow. I'd say getting jumped is a pretty good excuse, eh?