The things you do for friends

About two weeks before my biggest asthma attack ever I was over in my old neighborhood waiting

for some someone to show up. It was friday afternoon and I decided to hang with my friends before

going home. After sitting on my grandmother’s porch for about an hour or so my best friend

arrived. We talked about our experiences so far in high school and whatever teens boys at that

time talked about. After a while we decided to go get something to eat. Chinese food, ribs and

average American fare awaited us three blocks over. On our way there we spotted this kid

getting his ass kicked by a bunch of Vice Lords. My best friend and I knew this nigga but he was

kind of a asshole to me so I didn’t give a shit. It would not have been the first time I saw

someone get their ass kicked. My best friend knew this guy longer then I did and he wanted to

defend him and since my best friend was my best friend I had to defend his stupid ass. While

we confronted these seven or eight gentlemen the guy who were trying to protect split the

scene. The ringleader hit my best friend with one punch and knocked his two front teeth out.

Fuck I thought to myself now I actually have to fight. Being born and raised on the Westside of

Chicago I made it a point for most of my life to carry some kind of weapon on me and that day

was no exception. I had a brand new acid wash denim jacket (Fuck you it was 87′ acid wash was

the shit then) with a nice length of chain in my pocket. I took it out wrapped it around my hand

a punched one guy in the temple as hard as I could. I didn’t even get a chance to see if the nigga

I hit went down. The next thing I remember I was crawling up in a ball getting the shit kick out

of me by six or seven motherfucker. getting up from the beating I recall this old man smiling at

me saying something but I guess pain makes you deaf for a while. After we got up and went home

my best friend was headed to the doctor with a bruised and bloody face. My oldest cousin who

was a State Trooper happened to be visiting on Sawyer asked me if I wanted to handle it. I

thought about it for a second and said no. I didn’t live there anymore but my best friend did

what would have happened if these niggas tried to pay him back? No I just went home with a

pounding headache that lasted a week and a little blood in my urine. Ah the good old days.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s