Mugs N' Hugs
Jesus. I'm back again. The computer had a seizure and decided not to connect to the internet anymore. Apparently the ethernet board fucked up, and the ethernet board is connected to the logic board, which means I had to get that entire fucking thing replaced. Thank god I've got that three year unlimited warranty. [Note: Never buy the fucking floor model.]
So, during my little offline sabbatical, I earned a story which I find worthy to repeat to others. It's been called 'the funniest thing that's ever happened to me', which I don't know how I feel about... Meh. Let's begin.
I arrive at Denny's around midnight, hoping to find Ursula still working. However, on this particular night, she has gone home early for the first time in weeks. I relax at the Denny's for a time, but finally decide to see if Keegan is still on the clock at AMC. It turned out she was working until 3am, but she'd be coming straight home after work. To shorten the exposition here, I decide to head to their [Keegan and Ursula's] apartment, but so to not simply be a mooch, I bring a pizza with me. I arrive at about 1:30am, to find no one at home. I later learn that Ursula never came home until the next day. I head to Wal-Mart to blow some time until Keegan can get back, and drive to the apartment again around 3:30am. Still, no one is home, so I decide to wait it out in the parking lot.
Let me tell you a little something about their apartment. It's in the ghetto. Every ghetto stereotype that exists is sitting right next door to this community. The complex is surrounded with barb-wire fencing. There are signs which request guest to go immediately from their cars to the apartment they are visiting. It's not the nicest place.
And, of course, like a jackass, I'm standing in the parking lot smoking a cigarette. A car pulls up.
"Hey, white-boy. What are you doing in this neighborhood?"
I turn to see three black guys sitting in a white four-door. They're all staring at me.
"Just waiting for a friend to get home."
"A friend? Well, you see boy, I'm neighborhood watch in the community. I want to know WHY you're waiting for your friend."
"I'm delivering a pizza to her."
"Where you from?"
"Clermont."
"Bitch, you're delivering a pizza from fucking Clermont? Don't lie to me, motherfucker."
"I'm not lying."
"Let me see the pizza."
The driver seems to be the talkative one. The man in the passenger seat looks like he's laughing to himself, which makes me think that they might just be fucking with me. The guy in the backseat, however, is flipping out. He keeps telling the driver to "leave that white-boy alone." I grab the pizza out of the car, and hold it up.
"No, no, let me SEE it."
I'm going to lose my pizza, I see. I hand it to the driver, who takes it into the car, and open the box. The backseat man is yelling at him again. "Give that white-boy his pizza back, give that white-boy his pizza back." The driver ignores him, and starts poking his fingers into my pizza... disgusting motherfucker. "Bitch, this sauce is fucking cold."
"I got it about 2 hours ago."
"2 hours?"
"2 hours."
Driver-man looks at me, look at me hard. "How much money you got in your wallet, white-boy?"
Fuck. I'm trying to keep my cool, I'm trying not to do anything stupid, or anything cowardly. I'm not going to let get to me, and they are sure as fuck not getting all my money.
"Give me the pizza back."
Backseat-man starts his flipping out routine again. "Leave that white-boy alone, leave him alone!" Driver-man turns around to face him. "Look niggah, if that white-boy has more than $500, I ain't gonna take his money."
I know, that doesn't make sense to me either.
"Now, I'll ask again. How much money you got in your wallet, white-boy? And don't fucking lie to me, or I will beat your ass."
I believe him. So what do I do? Lie to him, tell him I've got $10, have my ass beaten for my money, and then have my ass beaten for lying? Or tell him the truth, tell him I've got $250, and only have my ass beaten once? Decisions, decisions.
"I've got around $250. But I can't give you any of my money."
"What?"
"I said you can't have my money."
"Do you think I'm playing with you?"
"No, I don't."
Nothing is said for several seconds. He stares at me again in that hard-ass way he seems to be so fond of. As though if he stared at me hard enough, he could simply will me to hand him my wallet. I stare back, not moving. Driver-man looks over at the man in the passenger seat. "Man, this white-boy thinks I'm playing with him. Gimme my piece out the glove compartment."
Oh Hell no.
"You don't have to get shit out of your glove compartment."
He puts the car in park and gets out. He stands several inches taller than me. "What? What? You want to get your truck stolen?" Every nerve in my body is saying, 'Run, get the fuck out of here, just get the fuck out. Get in your car and take off, jump the fence, fuck the barb-wire, RUN!'. Driver-man starts walking toward me. "I will grab you by your fucking hair and beat the shit out of you white boy, you want that?" Keep your cool Dan, keep your fucking cool. He isn't going to do shit, just CALM THE FUCK DOWN.
"Gimme fifty dollars, white-boy."
"No."
"Gimme fif-" He's cut off my the Backseat-man getting out of the car, with pizza in hand. He rushes to me with the box, and shoves it in my chest. "Just give him twenty dollars and get out."
I'd rather lose the pizza, but fuck it. I give him twenty dollars. Driver-man looks more insane than ever. He turns around to yell at his friend. "Niggah, are you fucking crazy? Are you crazy? Stupid motherfucker, fucking crazy!"
Driver man slowly turns back around to me, and when he does, the emotions on his face are a complete 180 of what they were before. "I want to thank you."
"...For what?"
"For not lying to me. See, if you had lied to me, I'da beat your ass."
"Alright...."
"Now c'mere."
"What?"
"I want to give you a hug."
And he does. A 6 foot-something black man who just took my money is holding me in the parking lot of a ghetto while his friends watch, and I hold a cold pizza. How the fuck did this happen?
He releases the hug, but doesn't stop holding me. He's all smiles. "Now, I want you to stay out of this neighborhood. It's dangerous. But I want to thank you, again. See, I have an addiction, and this helps me. Now, I want you to go home. I want you to smoke a joint. Ha Ha!'
"I will."
"HA HA! I want you to pray. Now go home, white-boy."
I put the pizza in my truck, climb in, and take off.
And so this is where I get my sometime-but-not-so-popular-nickname: Mugsn'hugs.
Ursula was talking to a neighbor of hers not too long after the event. She told the woman my story. The neighbor looked at Ursula, looked to the pavement, and then back to Ursula. "He's caucasian, isn't he?"
So, during my little offline sabbatical, I earned a story which I find worthy to repeat to others. It's been called 'the funniest thing that's ever happened to me', which I don't know how I feel about... Meh. Let's begin.
I arrive at Denny's around midnight, hoping to find Ursula still working. However, on this particular night, she has gone home early for the first time in weeks. I relax at the Denny's for a time, but finally decide to see if Keegan is still on the clock at AMC. It turned out she was working until 3am, but she'd be coming straight home after work. To shorten the exposition here, I decide to head to their [Keegan and Ursula's] apartment, but so to not simply be a mooch, I bring a pizza with me. I arrive at about 1:30am, to find no one at home. I later learn that Ursula never came home until the next day. I head to Wal-Mart to blow some time until Keegan can get back, and drive to the apartment again around 3:30am. Still, no one is home, so I decide to wait it out in the parking lot.
Let me tell you a little something about their apartment. It's in the ghetto. Every ghetto stereotype that exists is sitting right next door to this community. The complex is surrounded with barb-wire fencing. There are signs which request guest to go immediately from their cars to the apartment they are visiting. It's not the nicest place.
And, of course, like a jackass, I'm standing in the parking lot smoking a cigarette. A car pulls up.
"Hey, white-boy. What are you doing in this neighborhood?"
I turn to see three black guys sitting in a white four-door. They're all staring at me.
"Just waiting for a friend to get home."
"A friend? Well, you see boy, I'm neighborhood watch in the community. I want to know WHY you're waiting for your friend."
"I'm delivering a pizza to her."
"Where you from?"
"Clermont."
"Bitch, you're delivering a pizza from fucking Clermont? Don't lie to me, motherfucker."
"I'm not lying."
"Let me see the pizza."
The driver seems to be the talkative one. The man in the passenger seat looks like he's laughing to himself, which makes me think that they might just be fucking with me. The guy in the backseat, however, is flipping out. He keeps telling the driver to "leave that white-boy alone." I grab the pizza out of the car, and hold it up.
"No, no, let me SEE it."
I'm going to lose my pizza, I see. I hand it to the driver, who takes it into the car, and open the box. The backseat man is yelling at him again. "Give that white-boy his pizza back, give that white-boy his pizza back." The driver ignores him, and starts poking his fingers into my pizza... disgusting motherfucker. "Bitch, this sauce is fucking cold."
"I got it about 2 hours ago."
"2 hours?"
"2 hours."
Driver-man looks at me, look at me hard. "How much money you got in your wallet, white-boy?"
Fuck. I'm trying to keep my cool, I'm trying not to do anything stupid, or anything cowardly. I'm not going to let get to me, and they are sure as fuck not getting all my money.
"Give me the pizza back."
Backseat-man starts his flipping out routine again. "Leave that white-boy alone, leave him alone!" Driver-man turns around to face him. "Look niggah, if that white-boy has more than $500, I ain't gonna take his money."
I know, that doesn't make sense to me either.
"Now, I'll ask again. How much money you got in your wallet, white-boy? And don't fucking lie to me, or I will beat your ass."
I believe him. So what do I do? Lie to him, tell him I've got $10, have my ass beaten for my money, and then have my ass beaten for lying? Or tell him the truth, tell him I've got $250, and only have my ass beaten once? Decisions, decisions.
"I've got around $250. But I can't give you any of my money."
"What?"
"I said you can't have my money."
"Do you think I'm playing with you?"
"No, I don't."
Nothing is said for several seconds. He stares at me again in that hard-ass way he seems to be so fond of. As though if he stared at me hard enough, he could simply will me to hand him my wallet. I stare back, not moving. Driver-man looks over at the man in the passenger seat. "Man, this white-boy thinks I'm playing with him. Gimme my piece out the glove compartment."
Oh Hell no.
"You don't have to get shit out of your glove compartment."
He puts the car in park and gets out. He stands several inches taller than me. "What? What? You want to get your truck stolen?" Every nerve in my body is saying, 'Run, get the fuck out of here, just get the fuck out. Get in your car and take off, jump the fence, fuck the barb-wire, RUN!'. Driver-man starts walking toward me. "I will grab you by your fucking hair and beat the shit out of you white boy, you want that?" Keep your cool Dan, keep your fucking cool. He isn't going to do shit, just CALM THE FUCK DOWN.
"Gimme fifty dollars, white-boy."
"No."
"Gimme fif-" He's cut off my the Backseat-man getting out of the car, with pizza in hand. He rushes to me with the box, and shoves it in my chest. "Just give him twenty dollars and get out."
I'd rather lose the pizza, but fuck it. I give him twenty dollars. Driver-man looks more insane than ever. He turns around to yell at his friend. "Niggah, are you fucking crazy? Are you crazy? Stupid motherfucker, fucking crazy!"
Driver man slowly turns back around to me, and when he does, the emotions on his face are a complete 180 of what they were before. "I want to thank you."
"...For what?"
"For not lying to me. See, if you had lied to me, I'da beat your ass."
"Alright...."
"Now c'mere."
"What?"
"I want to give you a hug."
And he does. A 6 foot-something black man who just took my money is holding me in the parking lot of a ghetto while his friends watch, and I hold a cold pizza. How the fuck did this happen?
He releases the hug, but doesn't stop holding me. He's all smiles. "Now, I want you to stay out of this neighborhood. It's dangerous. But I want to thank you, again. See, I have an addiction, and this helps me. Now, I want you to go home. I want you to smoke a joint. Ha Ha!'
"I will."
"HA HA! I want you to pray. Now go home, white-boy."
I put the pizza in my truck, climb in, and take off.
And so this is where I get my sometime-but-not-so-popular-nickname: Mugsn'hugs.
Ursula was talking to a neighbor of hers not too long after the event. She told the woman my story. The neighbor looked at Ursula, looked to the pavement, and then back to Ursula. "He's caucasian, isn't he?"