On that note... I have a story of some other people who needed to chill eff out. This tale happened when I was a wee girl of only 10 years old. And thus begins the development of my street cred.
My next door neighbor's daughter came and stayed with him every other weekend. She and I would hang out on those weekends. And while she was 4 years older than me, for some reason everyone still thought this seemed like a good idea. And while, in retrospect, it is SO clear that she was a gang member, everyone still thought this seemed like a good idea. And while her life was a TOTAL train wreck, everyone STILL thought this seemed like a good idea. I would like to point out that this was a horrible idea...
One weekend my "friend" had her friend (also known as her fellow gang member) come stay at her dad's with her. We were dropped off at the Super Savor Cinema in Rossmoor...maybe it is in Seal Beach... I am not sure... this detail is not relevant. It is relevant to say that it was in no way considered a "bad part of town" or what I frequently refer to as "ghetto". We were going to see Curly Sue. We arrived too late for the current showing and decided we would go to the next one. To kill time we headed on over to Thrifty for some ice cream. While waiting in line, a group of girls walked by us and bumped the shoulder of my friend's friend. Her response was, obviously, "Watch it bitch." This was accompanied by some serious mad dogging.
I don't think that I even got any damn ice cream because the next thing I remember is that these girls are in our faces demanding to know where we are from. The 2 girls I was with are saying really classy things like, "It's none of your f*cking business." I could feel the situation escalating and had no idea what to do. The strangers then started demanding to know how old we were. Now, I knew that I was much younger than all parties involved. But I also knew that i did not LOOK much younger than them. When I was 10 I was often mistaken for much older. So while the tough girls refused to answer any questions, I said very firmly and loudly, "I am ten. I am TEN years old." I am sure that the message I conveyed with my tone was, "I am only 10 years old, please do not kick my ass." Because that is what I was feeling.
Some of the details are hazy... but I do know that there were more of them than us. (Especially when we all know I was not even part of that "us".) I also remember the moment that it was decided that shit was about to get real. Two chicks, the shoulder bumper and the shoulder bumpee, were about to brawl it out. The agreed upon instructions were that it was between these 2 girls and no one else was going to jump in. Gotta have rules...even on the streets...
The obvious place for 2 teenage girls to fight is in the middle of a parking lot where cars are trying to drive. The obvious thing for girls to do when fighting is always to pull each other's clothes off. So here are 2 teen girls, scratching and slapping one another in a full out stereotypical cat fight. Cars flashing their lights and honking at them. My friend's home girl must have been losing, because my friend decided she needed to jump in there. She turned to me and said, "Hold my purse." I declined. She shoved her purse into my chest and said, "Hold my purse!" I declined again. She yelled, "BITCH!" This is when I decided to bail.
I am not quite sure why it took me so long to decide to leave. But I guess when your "friend" calls you a bitch because you don't want to help her beat the shit out of some people, this is when it is kosher to get the hell out. I went and found a pay phone and called the parentals. As I hung up the phone with my pa, I saw the group of stranger girls rounding the corner and coming towards me. I just sat right where I was as they approached me. I don't remember feeling scared or anything. I just remember thinking that I wasn't moving from that spot until my parents came.
This group of girls, who obviously won the fight, apologized to me. They told me that they were really sorry that I witnessed the whole scene. They told me that they felt bad that I had any part of it. They asked if they could wait there with me until my parents came and picked me up. WHAT?!?! But that is exactly what they did. As soon as I commented that I could see my parents car, they took off.
Later that evening, the "friend" knocked on my door. She apologized to me with the most insincere apology I have ever heard (and I worked Juvenile Justice Services, so this is quite the honor.) She gave my parents a similar apology. And then...I never saw her again... It was like she never existed and none of it ever happened. It wasn't talked about. She wasn't talked about. It was just over.
Now that I have developed more street cred... I totes understand that, "Damn it feels good to be a gangsta."
(WARNING: there are some "F-words" in this soundtrack...
so don't watch it you don't want to hear.)
that office space scene is my most favorite scene from a movie...ever. that is one of my favorites...i own it. you can come over and watch it. my favorite is when michael bolton goes back to kick some more ass and they have to drag him away.
ReplyDeleteand i'm questioning your street cred...i've never seen you krump.
I don't front. I krump. Where did I learn it? On the streets of the LBC. You don't have to believe my street cred, but you best believe I will straight shank you. Ah sheeeeeeeeeeeet....
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