Many of my former readers remember a scene from five years ago where I singlehandedly tried to fight five black people on a NYC subway who tried to steal a woman’s purse and iPod. The problem with these fights is there is always at least one person whose way bigger way badder than you.
I returned about 3am from a fundraiser and walked to the local bodega on Madison Street to purchase a vanilla coke. On my way in two black teenagers (or in their early twenties) were standing by the potato chips aisle and freezer asked me to give them a pound (a handshake with a fist) Looking harmless I give them a pound. I opened the fridge, grabbed a vanilla coke and put it on the counter. And that is when I feel someone standing next to me. I turn my head and there is a thug about 5’10 who looks down at me. I asked him if he had a problem because I was just paying for the soda. He yelled that I should just pay for my soda and then proceeds to yell at the cashier for his sandwich.
When I exited the bodega, one of the guys who asked for a pound is trying to break up an argument between his friends and an older man and woman couple. I didn’t make much of it but as I cross the street, the next thing I notice is a half eaten sandwich thrown across the street but missing me. I turn around and walk patiently across the street and ask if anyone threw the sandwich. At which point the guy breaking up the scuffle tells me just to leave them alone.
As I make my second trip across the street I see a Diet Coke also go across the street at which point I storm back across the street and demand to know who is throwing stuff at me. The same thug who is staring me down across the street proceeds to follow alongside me yelling in my face while I just keep on walking back across the street. Suddenly out of nowhere I am struck on the right side which stuns me and then another punch also lands on the left cheekbone. He starts walking away and I look back at him and he yells “What are you going to do? Call the cops.” His friend returning across the street starts apologizing.
I didn’t feel any pain, but I had lost my glasses and realized that I couldn’t find them because it was so dark and my uncorrected eyesight has deteriorated over the years. By luck I actually found them again to the nearby vicinity where I had been punched.
When I returned home the adrenaline wore off but I didn’t feel any pain unless I pressed down on my left cheekbone or the back of my right ear. I tried to put my head down and go to sleep but I couldn’t so I took a walk back outside to see if these guys were still at the bodega…they were not.
Notice the title of this entry….Another fight with black people part #1….because if I ever see this group there will be a part #2 and I promise my readers either him or I will be seriously injured.