Hard Times
When I started this blog up, I really wanted to record the events of my days in all their boring splendor, while interjecting some stories, and backgrounds on them. That is still my intent, but I doubt that I will be posting every night, unless something of interest happens to me every night of the week (and that doesn’t even happen in WoW).
Well, to start this off, I got robbed in the Walmart in Jacksonville, AR (where I reside) on this past Sunday. I fucking hate Walmart with a passion, and this put the icing on the cake for me. I avoid going to Walmart durring peak buisiness hours, which are roughly 730am-1am. I usually make my trek over there at around 3am, when the only people there are employees. That was just not the case on Sunday. I was making my way over to electronics to take a look at Xbox games, and grab a WoW card for the next two months. On the way back I was going to pick out some flowers for my wife (I fucked something up that day), and head home to grab a power nap before the kids got up. DENIED.
I was almost to Warcraft bliss, when a black guy came jogging up to me, and asked if I could help him out real fast. ‘Well, shit,’ I thought. ‘May as well.’ Instinctively I turned around and started heading to the back of the store, with him next to me. He told me that his car had run out of gas on 67/167 heading toward NLR, and needed some help, because his daughter was in the car. No prob, bro. As we hastily approched the exit, a few things occured to me;
1) Why would anyone have their kid out with them at 3am? 2) This guy is wearing Sean John jeans, Ecko kicks, a nice watch, and had three teardrops inked on the left side of his face (no good) 3) I noticed finally that he smelled of beer.
By now we had come to the exit of the store and I stopped dead. ‘What exactly to you need me to do, man?’ I asked. ‘I need a ride out to my car, so we can gas it up.’ Hmm. ‘How are we going to do that if your car won’t run?’, I retorted. ‘I got a gass can I can use,’ perplexing. ‘Then why didn’t you go to the gas station down the street, its a lot closer than Walmart is, and they have gas there, also.’ ‘You gonna help me or not, man?’
‘Look man, I don’t really give rides in my car out to anyone in a situation like this, and what about your daughter? I thought she was in the car with you, is she by herself on the highway right now?’ At this point there was nothing in the world that would get me outside and into/near my car with this fucker. At this point he stepped up real close to me and said, ‘If you ain’t gonna let me in your car, how you gonna help me, nigga?’ There was more than a little venom in his voice. What to do, what to do. As far as store workers go, there was one cashier on duty, who was a black woman. No use going to her for some help. No security in the place to be seen either. Well, maybe I should go outside with this shithead and curbstomp his ass, AHX style. I used to be one bad motherfucker, once upon a time. I looked down, and around, and noticed that he had reached around to the back of his pants, and lifted his shirt up a bit, yet his hand remained back there, almost as if he was holding onto something, but not letting me see it. Okay, maybe he has a gun, knife, or a pack of starbursts, all I know is that I don’t want to find out. Curbstomp is out of the picture, he’d probably kill me and take my car, which has my addy in it, and rob my house on the way to his nigga’s crib. Now he leans in real close and says ‘Lets go out to your car right now, nigga.’ By this point I have come to the realization that I am either being robbed, or am about to be. No way I can let this nigger get my address, or my fucking car, so I can’t go outside with him, no fucking chance. ‘We ain’t going outside, so you can steal my car, I can’t walk into that.’ I was a bit suprised with the steadfastness of my response, but I don’t fuck around when my family could even possibly become involved in something like this. ‘I guess we have a problem, because we are not going out to my car, and I’m not going anywhere with you.’
‘Aight then, we gonna walk over to the ATM and you are gonna get me some money.’ You have got to be fucking kidding me. I started to go over an alternate chain of events in my head, one that did not involve giving this nigger any money. I could just walk away, and possibly get a knife in my back, because he is already on the security cam. Or he could split, and wait around for me outside, and wind up with my car anyway. The logical choice for me would be to go over to the atm, take out some money, and then hang around for a while to make sure he left before going home. So, I turned and walked over to the atm, with him following, took out my card and gave the nigger $25. He took it, looked at it, and said ‘Thanks a lot, nigga.’ He then left quickly, I hung around about a half hour, grabbed some flowers, and left.
Thats just the start of my week, but I’m tired and don’t feel like typing anymore.
