Friday, April 24, 2009

On How We Were Raised

I passed some guys as I was almost home tonight. The street was quiet and the it was about 12:45 a.m. This guy came out between cars holding a dangling something, looking rather tweaked. I was nervous as Hell when he waved at me.

Only as I past directly by him did I realize he was holding a pair of jumper cables.

After deciding I didn't want to feel like crap leaving this guy alone, I tucked away my iPod on the off-chance this was a set-up and looped around the one-way streets and pulled up. The guy and his friend thanked me profusely, and after both failing to get my hood up I finally found the trip lever and we were failing to successfully jump his car.

After pleasantly failing miserably, we roped it all in and went our separate ways. That is to say I drove off and they were left on the side of the road, across from what I later realized was a massive party. I felt bad not offering to abuse my AAA privileges and pretend like I was riding with them, especially after the main guy remarked to his friend that he had $4 to his name and couldn't afford a new battery, but I sincerely doubt the tow truck driver would have believed I, a tiny, Jewy creature, would have been riding in a cramped coup with 3 incredibly urban black guys.

Oh, did I not mention that? They were black. Suddenly this story takes on a different turn for you, doesn't it? So what's the moral after that?

I still checked for my laptop bag in the back seat as I drove off, just in case this was all an elaborate ploy. It was not, and I laughed to feel a little less racially paranoid. Fuck.

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