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clavus · 01-06-2005, 05:37 PM

The morning was so beautiful it was almost painful to experience. Sunny enough to warm your skin, and breezy enough to keep you cool. Birds sang. The night’s rain left the air clear and clean. It smelled good.

I parked at the far end of the parking lot, just so I could enjoy the walk to and from the store. And as I returned to my car, basking in the impossibly perfect morning, I realized that I was about to get mugged.

He was built like a bull, with a neck thicker than my leg. He was all bandannas and tattoos. If you look up “vato” in the dictionary, you see a picture of this guy. In one huge hand he carried a cane. He didn’t use the cane to walk. He carried it like a club as he strode right at me.

Time slowed to a crawl. My adrenal gland came to life. My eyes dialated and I took in every detail of every object. I was very aware that there was nobody else anywhere near us. My armpits got sticky. My mouth dried up. My world had suddenly changed.

“I got a question for you,” he shouted as he closed in.
“Can I ask you something?” he challenged.

Now you may think I’m paranoid or racist or whatever. But I can read body language. This guy was not walking over to ask a question. He saw a little guy all alone and was walking over to kick the little guy’s ass. Maybe he wanted my wallet. Maybe he wanted my car. I don’t know. But he sure as shit wasn’t planning on engaging in a lively question and answer session.

I stopped, centered myself, and dropped my hand to rest on my pocket. I looked him in the eye and said, “You can ask.”

He stole a glance at my hand, and all at once his attitude changed. His whole body suddenly deflated just a bit. The cane lowered. A smile formed.

My hand sat lightly on the handle of my knife. It was folded and still clipped to my pocket. The knife is a medium size folder, with tanto blade. It is wicked sharp and plenty strong. I’ve seen its mate punch through a car door. The man facing me could undoubtedly beat me to death, but he’d bleed too.

“Um…ya…can I…ah…borrow a dollar?” he asked.

“You got the wrong guy,” I replied.

He turned and walked away.

A bear can kill a porcupine, but it chooses not to.

01-06-2005, 05:37 PM	#1 (permalink)
clavus pow! Location: NorCal	clavus and the mugger The morning was so beautiful it was almost painful to experience. Sunny enough to warm your skin, and breezy enough to keep you cool. Birds sang. The night’s rain left the air clear and clean. It smelled good. I parked at the far end of the parking lot, just so I could enjoy the walk to and from the store. And as I returned to my car, basking in the impossibly perfect morning, I realized that I was about to get mugged. He was built like a bull, with a neck thicker than my leg. He was all bandannas and tattoos. If you look up “vato” in the dictionary, you see a picture of this guy. In one huge hand he carried a cane. He didn’t use the cane to walk. He carried it like a club as he strode right at me. Time slowed to a crawl. My adrenal gland came to life. My eyes dialated and I took in every detail of every object. I was very aware that there was nobody else anywhere near us. My armpits got sticky. My mouth dried up. My world had suddenly changed. “I got a question for you,” he shouted as he closed in. “Can I ask you something?” he challenged. Now you may think I’m paranoid or racist or whatever. But I can read body language. This guy was not walking over to ask a question. He saw a little guy all alone and was walking over to kick the little guy’s ass. Maybe he wanted my wallet. Maybe he wanted my car. I don’t know. But he sure as shit wasn’t planning on engaging in a lively question and answer session. I stopped, centered myself, and dropped my hand to rest on my pocket. I looked him in the eye and said, “You can ask.” He stole a glance at my hand, and all at once his attitude changed. His whole body suddenly deflated just a bit. The cane lowered. A smile formed. My hand sat lightly on the handle of my knife. It was folded and still clipped to my pocket. The knife is a medium size folder, with tanto blade. It is wicked sharp and plenty strong. I’ve seen its mate punch through a car door. The man facing me could undoubtedly beat me to death, but he’d bleed too. “Um…ya…can I…ah…borrow a dollar?” he asked. “You got the wrong guy,” I replied. He turned and walked away. A bear can kill a porcupine, but it chooses not to. __________________ Ass, gas or grass. Nobody rides for free.