Topic: The Craziest thing I've Done

I would say that most crazy things I’ve done have involved a boy in one way or another, but that’s not entirely true.

The car chase through Amberly Village was definitely an all-girl endeavor. Robbing the pony keg was a group effort, and not driven by any hormonal need.

But then there were the times that I went to strange college boys’ student rentals, heedless of the danger involved.

I think that one of the craziest things I’ve done did involve a boy. Or, at least, the evening started out with a boy. The boy in question was the reason I’d gotten into the situation in the first place.

It was my senior year of high school. Summertime, I believe. I had been hanging out at my friend Jim’s house with Alan and some other people.

Alan wasn’t my boyfriend, but he also wasn’t just a dude. He and I had spent a good deal of the evening making out in Jim’s bedroom.

I honestly don’t remember who else was there, but I do know that I didn’t have my license yet, and that I had gotten a ride to Jim’s house.

As the evening wore on, it got closer and closer to time for my curfew, but the guys were still drinking. I think the person who had given me a ride had gone off with someone and wasn’t planning on returning.

Both Jim and Alan had transportation, but neither one of them was in any condition to drive.

Since I didn’t live too far from Jim’s house, they decided to walk me home, at 1AM.

Here’s the thing. Jim lived in a nice neighborhood with gas lights and stately homes. Although it bordered his, my neighborhood was much different. The houses were smaller and the streets were lit by sodium lights.

Most importantly, there was this stretch of Vine street, between his house and mine, that I knew we had no business walking down at that time of night.

I hadn’t really been drinking and I had my temps, so I’d suggested that they ride along while I drive back to my house. Then they could sit in the car, sober up, and drive back.

No dice. They insisted that we walk.

So I and three guys set out for my house, crossing from Jim’s staid, suburban area, to my more chaotic and urban environment.

Woolper was kind of a buffer zone between the two neighborhoods, and it was an easy, and uneventful walk. Then we got to Vine, at the bottom of the hill.

We turned left and headed toward my street, down an essentially deserted Vine St. Deserted save for one dude with dreadlocks across the street from us.

I noticed him notice us. I plainly saw him lock eyes on us, three white boys and one girl, as we walked several yards ahead of him on the other side of the street. He was like a cat that had locked eyes on prey, and I knew that if we didn’t stay together, he would pounce.

Well, Jim and the other guy crossed the street, leaving me and Alan alone. I tried to tell them not to run off but they thought they were invincible.

Just as I had suspected, the minute Jim and the other guy got across the street, the dude with dreadlocks was on them. They stopped and talked for a long time while Alan and I continued walking.

I had considered just going on to my street, and leaving them to their fates, but I couldn’t.

With Alan in tow, I crossed the street to where they were. As we got closer I could hear Jim saying “I don’t have any money.” When we finally got to them, that’s when I saw the knife.

Now, here’s the deal.

When I looked at the knife, I saw a short, dull bit of blade. Like a butter knife. Barely anything to worry about, and something we could all easily handle if we just worked together.

Later, they would insist that it was something along the lines of Crockodile Dundee’s knife, complete with serrations and a wicked curve.

Dreadlock dude was wild-eyed, obviously in over his head, and quite possibly high on something.

So, the first words out of my mouth were “We can take him.”

The boys weren’t having none of it. As far as they were concerned, they just wanted the knife-wielding man to go away, and they figured that if I gave him my purse it would do the trick.

“I’m not giving him my purse,” I said. “Look, I’ll kick the knife out of his hand, and you guys tackle him.”

Nope.

“Fine, I’ll tackle him. But you have to have my back,”

Nope.

“Look! It’s just a butter knife. We can take him.”

Nope.

So while the four of us are arguing about whether or not I should kick this guy’s ass, the mugger is looking wild-eyed between the four of us, brandishing his knife at each of us, and trying to regain control of the situation.

“Look, all I have to do is hit him. The knife isn’t even that sharp.”

“What if he has friends?” They said. “What if he’s not alone?”

“If he had friends, they’d be out here by now. Let’s just go.”

“No, give him your purse.”

“Fuck, no!”

“Look at him. There are four of us and one of him.”

“But he has a knife!”

“It’s a butter knife!”

“No it’s not!”

“Yes it is, look at it! Just kick him!”

On and on, back and forth. I was adamant, but so were they, and there were more of them.

I’d had half a mind to hit the mugger in the head with my purse, knock him down, and then kick him a few times just to show these pussies how it’s done. And to drive home the fact that they were pussies.

But, at the same time, I realized that on the off chance things didn’t go my way, they’d all crumble like a poorly-built house of cards.

So I gave the fucker my purse.

He was afraid of me. I could tell by the way he reached for the purse. It was almost as if I were mugging HIM, forcing him to take it.

But take it, he did.

Then he backed away warily, until he was far enough away from us, and ran off into the night.

We continued the rest of the walk to my house in silence, me seething with unsatisfied anger.

I was pissed off at the mugger, I was pissed off at my friends for not having my back, and I was pissed off at myself for getting into this situation. I was REALLY pissed that I had to give up my really cool purse.

Every now and then I wonder what would have happened if I’d just walked away and left them there. But I couldn’t do that. Even though they didn’t have my back, I’d had theirs – which is why I gave up my purse.

But I still think I could have taken him.