Clint For a Day

Alright, first I’m gonna write about all the stuff that went wrong yesterday, then I’m gonna write about why it doesn’t matter.

As I stated yesterday, I lost money thanks to the bank’s garage being closed for Labor Day and I threw my back out lifting weights. After work yesterday, I noticed my battery light was on so I went to Advanced Autoparts to have them run a test. The test determined that I have a bad alternator. I went back to my car and tried to start it up, but to no avail. My car was dead! So I had to call off (something I’ve only done once in over two years) from the shipping depot job and I lost that money too. The GMC Jimmy had to be towed to Monro Brakes ($70 for the tow) and Sha had to drive me home. Today I had to walk to work. As I’ve stated many times before, I hate walking to work because I have to go through Butterscotch Street, one of the worst streets in Smalltown. Even though I walk on a dangerous street wearing a fucking suit with a laptop bag, no one really messes with me. This morning, however, was a different story.

Some douchebag sitting on his porch saw me coming and quickly got up and came down in front of me. He said, “Brotha, lemme hold a dolla.” Lemme hold a dolla. That’s a nice way of saying “Give me your money or I will fuck you up!” So I said “Sure”, then took out my trusty Iraqi Freedom knife and gripped it hard. He kinda gave me a smile and said, “Nigga O.D.in’”. I remember the term “O.D” (overdosing). Whenever I would give my students a lot of homework, they would say “Mr. Dodger, come on man! Why you O.D.in’?!” I stopped looking at his face and started looking at his hands. I was waiting to see them move towards me in any way so that I could defend myself immediately. Instead, he went back to his porch, and I heard him say “pussy-ass nigga wit’ his knife” which kind of confused me. I mean, if I’m the pussy then why was he the one walking away? Anyhow, I stood there and watched him for a couple of minutes until he screamed “What the fuck you lookin’ at?!” To be honest, I wasn’t sure why I was still standing there. I guess my adrenaline was so high that I was waiting for something to happen. I put the knife back in my pocket and headed off to work.

I’ve said many times before that I never get out of bed unless I’m mentally prepared to have that day be my last, and I meant it. My bout with cancer taught me that. But there were three things I had in my favor. The first was that, when the confrontation occurred, I was listening to Smashing Pumpkins’ “Eye”. Anytime I hear that song I get into a weird trance, and it makes me a bit numb to reality. The second thing was the area. Butterscotch Street is a shady place and, at six in the morning, it’s an even shadier place. At the spot of the confrontation, there were so many trees and bushes that someone could get killed in the daylight and no one would notice for hours. The feeling of being able to get away with something only fueled my acceptance of getting into it with this idiot. The third thing was that he was high and I was looking at his hands. His hands were completely still until I took out my knife. Once I did that, his fingers were moving around a lot and so were his hands in general, but never towards me in any way. He was at the very least nervous, and I think it scared him more when I didn’t say anything. This could have been bad for me. But nothing happened and I’m on a cloud right now. I feel like Clint Eastwood. Shit, even Clint Eastwood doesn’t get to do stuff like this!

Now look, I completely understood the situation. Yes, he could have killed me. When I took out a knife, all he had to do was take out a gun and that would have been it. No more real estate. No more money. Nothing. I get that. All he needed was a gun and a box of condoms and I would be been fucked. But I guess when the pressure is on, I revert to the kind of person that I truly am. When I’m asked to do something that I don’t wanna do (and I’m not being paid), I don’t do it. In this case, I didn’t want to give this bum my money that I work my ass off for, especially since he’s most likely one of the bums that get money from the government which comes out of my paycheck. If I can’t get my car done today, I’ll have Ola pick me up for work tomorrow morning to avoid that situation altogether.

So I’ll end this day with lost wages from missing work at the shipping depot, higher car maintenance costs than I want, without a vehicle, a backpain that is making it very painful to walk around and I still haven’t been able to pick up rent at the PO Box. But the way I see it, those things come and go. Confirming for myself that, when push comes to shove, I shove back is something that I will (hopefully) never forget.

P.S.: Just got a call from Monro Brakes. Cost of new alternator and new battery plus labor is $400. Ugh! Oh well. Still Clint. Good news is that they said my brakes and rotors are in good condition, so no costs there.