|
Well, I never got molested or anything, but I did have a gun pulled on me by a... (Searches for politically correct way to say this.)... considerably less than happy African American.
Here's the situation...
I was 19 and on my way to my buddy's house on the Eastside of St. Paul. (The eastside is a ghetto, for those that don't know.) So I'm walking up the steps to my friends and this one homeboy comes across the street and starts asking me if I'm looking for weed. Coincidently, I was. He said he could get some, right across the street, so I followed him to this apartment complex. We went up three floors and he knocked on a door.
When the door opened, I see this MASSIVE brotha. Seriously, this guy was HUGE! Bigger than most pro football players. Anyways, I see this big dude along with a cracked out, passed out white girl laying on the couch. The next thing I noticed was a silver handgun laying on his coffee table. He let us in and shut the door. For that split second that we were in the doorway, he seemed nice enough...
Once the door shut, his vibe changed drastically. For a reason unbeknownest to me, this big dude was furious at the little dude that I showed up with. (Keep in mind, I had never met this guy before he approached me while I was walking up the steps to my buddies house.) The big dude was screaming at the little dude in an extremely threatening manner. (The thought crossed my mind to make a break for the door, but fear and the desire for weed kept me there.)
Then the big dude decided to focus his attention on me. He yelled at me and asked how much money I had on me. I told him I had $50 bucks, I just wanted a bag, and I didn't even know this other fool. He then went over to his coffee table, grabbed his gun and pointed it at me, instructing me to open my wallet. I did. He reached in and took my $50 out and then said "This n*gger owes me $600 and I've killed motherfuckers for less than that!"
At this point, I wasn't sure if I was being robbed or buying a bag, so I remained quiet. He proceeded to yell at/threaten the dude I was with a little bit more, making sure that he knew he wasn't fuckin' around about wanting his money. Then he opened the door and told us to get the fuck out.
I never did get my bag.
|