"Tales From the Hood" Part 1
This began on a cold-ass February night. My weekend was just beginning and I was kicking things off with a 40 of Olde English 800. Man, I drank a sea of that shit. I can see why the old English came to America, back in the day. If THAT'S all they had to drink? I woulda left, too. Shit.
My veteran, Bill was also working on the OE. Which I bought for the cheap fucker. Let me give you a little background on my vet. Bill was a stone hippy in 1972 when he got drafted and shipped off to 'Nam at the ass end of the war. He was shot on his first patrol. First day out! POP! Probably by someone in his unit who knew best. I love Bill. Well, I like Bill. Liked him, at least -- past tense. Not a real stand up guy, but funny as fuck. What's he used to say? "Fuck me runnin!" "Oh, shit Mase, he was fartin' like a raped ape." "I'd eat a hundred miles of shit and glass to suck the dick that fucked you last." Yipes. That last one is naaaasty. Which is probably why we got along.
We were chillin on the balcony walkway at the 301, sipping, bullshitting. A little white truck pulled up. Pablo's truck. Pablo lived in on0e of the two bedroom apartments occupied by 15 young men, who slept in shifts and worked their Oaxacan asses off. Pablo's little truck pulled up short of the 301's parking lot. And Bill and I noticed two black guys sitting on either side of Pablo. The guy who was driving stepped out of the cab, wearing a puffy jacket and immediately demanded ten dollars from Bill and me. Bill said, "Fuck you. I ain't givin' you SHIT." "I'll kill this motherfucker." He pointed at Pablo in the truck. Pablo didn't look happy. "Shit. I'll come up there and shoot YOU in the fucking face." He reached into his jacket for a gun that may or may not have been there. Enough. Bill compromised and floated a five dollar bill down to the driver. I felt kinda detached. On some TV watching shit. I looked at my beer and thought, "I can't believe how WELL I'm dealing with this. God bless alcohol." I think it's important to remember that this happened a few years ago. If this woulda happened last week? Shit, I would've floated down on some Crouching Tiger, Vomiting Housecat, Masturbating Baboon shit and drop kicked that fucker in jaw. End of drama. But I was hood rookie at the time.
Anyhow, the black Jesse James scurried over and grabbed the fiver. Instead of letting Pablo go, he got back in the truck and took off. I began to not handle things so good, at this point. I figured I'd seen the last of Pablo. I was flippin, even though Pablo and I haven't always seen eye to eye.
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