Don't worry, I finished my list.

Sometimes my neighborhood is scary. Friday evening I was sitting at the kitchen table making another list...bananas, Matt cookies, turkey, pita bre.....

"No, n*gga, NO N*GGA, NO!"

I turned off our dining room light and ran to the front door to peek outside. There was a tall man, trailing another boy/man who was bike/walking (to do this, put the bike between your legs, but walk). The tall man was screaming in a very loud, bruising sort of way. I was able to catch part of the conversation; he was upset that he moved from Chicago to deal with this sh*t. He did not think it was cool of the other guy to tell people that he broke into some one's crib when he had his gun on him. He didn't "sign on for this sh*t" and all he wanted to do was go downtown to "f*ck some ho's".

I can kind of see his point.

It's highly irritating when someone makes bad your name when you are an enthusiast of firearms and enjoy carrying. Also, I know I would prefer to save Friday evenings for Ho F*cking and not Bike/Walker trailing. Sheeeit.
So, the police arrived in record time, and had both men up against the car, patted them down, let the younger, shy one go, and took the Windy City native into custody.
The sad (not funny sad, but real sad) part was that a couple little kids a few doors down watched the whole thing. I believe they are siblings or cousins of one or both men. That made me fume. It creates a division on our block, and, unfortunately, it appears to be a racial division because the screamer happens to be black. Why do I wish it had been a white guy? Would that help? How would I feel if I had children? I did think about how my nieces were visiting last weekend, and it triggered a different level of irritation in me. I imagined myself running outside, in my underwear, to scream "Shut the f*ck up, you loud, stupid piece of sh*t!" Then it became a more proper scream, "Shut up, immediately! I'm trying to write my co-op grocery list! Learn to RIDE that bike! Is it even YOUR bike? THIEF!" And so on...I felt very Girls In the Hood. Girlz 'n da' hood?

But I didn't do any of that. I stood in my porch, where the shadows could hide me, to watch as the police took one away and other one was left on the sidewalk, laughing, pulling his long, stupid t-shirt over his face to laugh INTO, flailing his arms about, yelling about how it's all "boooolsheeit! F*ckin' boolsheeeit", all the while those kids were still outside, taking it all in. That should be a great back to school story.