It's 8:30 in the morning, slight drizzle, a chill in the air. I'm making my way to work. In front of me is a beat up Chevy with no break lights. The driver is doing ten below the speed limit. We both take the right turn onto Illinois Street. Without warning he speeds past me, jumps in front of me I instantly rear end him. It's a construction zone, it's a low speed collision. But I had two people call in sick, and I've been listening to Nardo Wick so I'm feeling like this is a setup.
He pulls over, I follow. The white guy behind me in the big ass pick up truck pulls over. I'm on edge, I snap back to the mentality of 22 year old OriginalKingD, I'm not afraid of anything. The mindset of Liam Neeson, I wish a negro would. The temperament of Riley Cooper, I'll fight every knicker here.
The man hops out his truck, yelling. "You see what you did to my truck," I've moved out of the hood, but I still work with the hood, I'm still in the hood. I know a sting when I see one. This old Black man is a dope fiend, a crackhead, a cluck, he is on that shit. By his side and yelling, a woman who looks just like Wanda fron Holiday Heart. She's got the bike, she's got the bike. Meanwhile Larry the Cable Guy has rolled down the window and is leaned out and watching the commotion.
"Look what you did to my truck," yelled the cluck.
"Your truck was already fucked up," I calmly respond.
"Just give us $200," Wanda yells.
"Let's exchange insurance because I don't carry cash," that was a lie.
"Nah just give me cash & it's good."
"Well let's call the cops to document this," This is the first time I had ever threatened to call the police. I didn't feel the rush that so many white people feel making that threat. They were just words to me, because I was not calling the cops.
"Nah, it's cool, but you was wrong," he mumbled.
"Yeah, wrong," Wanda echoed.
The two entered the truck quickly and crossed three lanes of traffic to get to White Castle across the street. I turn to Larry the Cable Guy.
"You handled that good, I saw that shit they were pulling. Wasn't going to let them play you," for once the persistent white shadow in my life had intervened on my behalf. I thank the man for taking the time to observe and he pulls away to do whatever kind white men do. Probably eat a peanut butter & nutella sandwich. I hope he enjoys it.
I pulled into the parking garage and double checked my car. Not a single scratch from the low speed set up. I was enraged with the situation, adrenaline still pumping. I had to ask myself "why are you mad?" I've got a lot to be mad about, but this is something to let go. I sat down at my desk, took a big sip of water and began the day.
Not a joke, this is a true story.
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