now here’s my side of it.
i woke up at my girlfriend’s house which happens quite a bit. we lay in bed together, she’s already super late for work but we’re just laying there enjoying the last of wonderful bliss of sleep.
we hear the unmistakable sound of gunfire which is a pretty normal thing in pretty much every city and apartment i’ve ever lived in. paying it no mind, we decide to make her a little for work, which doesn’t take me long but she was a good 5 minutes later 😀
anyway, i put on the camo, boots, black shirt, messenger bag, out the door to catch the magazine bus. now it’s not every morning i start drinking before 9am but i was thirsty. Dats grocery store(yeah it says Dat’s on the sign) has these $1 16 oz cans of Mickeys which are a great post sex breakfast to drink on while i wait for the bus. I remember thinking i shouldn’t be drinking in the mornings but “this one beer won’t kill me”. There is a guy in a FBI jacket talking to the woman owner of the establishment talking about what she heard.
i go in, grab the beer, pay my $1.00 bill for my $1.00 beer, get a brown bag and walk out. There’s a old dude wheeling in some beer off a coors truck. I nod to him and he says “how you doing”. I reply i was doing well.
I get probably 40-50 yards away when i hear gun fire. Not distant like it was in the nice safe house earlier. I take off running up magazine, beer in hand. i turn to see what is potentially something awful for my existance, any cars speeding at me or anyone pointing anything. i’m suddenly a little glad im wearing camo. The guy in the FBI jacket has pulled his gun and is firing, the coors truck dude is flat on the ground. i’m too far away to see the look on his face but i’m sure it was “i cant wait to write about this on my site” type grin.
i walk up and immediately open my beer and begin walking up magazine watching several squad cars tear ass around the block and more yellow tape going up. i end up walking home since the bus was obviously not running down magazine at a regular pace. got home, took off the camo, put on a fresh pair, put the phone headset on and got back to work.
i thought about all day long how bad ass it would have been to get hit by stray fire and that just be it. walking home from his chick, shot down on the streets. can take a boy out of the ghetto but can’t get the ghetto out of the boy. i would hope the media would spin it as me being some how directly involved. people in memphis would sending out their bulletins saying “omg”
really makes you appreciate morning sex before going out into the mean streets.
