Bloods or Crips?

I didn’t realized I lived in the hood until today.

I always kind of suspected it but it became clear today.

On my running trail there are a lot of loiterers. Typically I am the only white person out there. All jokes aside, I really am not racist.

No matter how many times I pass the same group of young males leering at me, I never get comfortable.

So today, on my run, I was rocking out to David Guetta (don’t judge me.  I dont judge you to your face, do not judge me) having a good time when I notice a young man on a bike.  I have my little wave and smile that says “I enjoy running from nothing” prepared when I notice that he is not sharing the path. So to accommodate i shift a little further to the right, hes on a bike and probably needs more room to move around than I do. He gets closer to my side of the path.  Then I realize that he is targeting me. He flys past me within 6 inches of my left arm and calls me a bitch.

Now keep in mind, I am not bothering anyone.  I was minding my own business on the right side of the path running along listening to bad dance music. I never did anything to him that would evoke such a reaction. In fact, I was overly accommodating.

Perhaps it was the way my shoes match oh, so perfectly to my iPod nano or maybe it was the kick ass kitten I have on my shirt that pissed him off. Or maybe it was the fact that my running shoes cost more than his bike, knock off ed hardy shirt and gold plated chain combined.  Ok, that was a little bitchy.  But it’s only actually bitchy if it isn’t true.

Since I had to come to a complete halt in order to save my own life I had to get back into my rhythm when I got back on the path. Going out I passed my neighbor.  His mom is missing teeth and his dad is very tall.  He calls his momma a “fucking bitch” in the parking lot. Coming back in i was tempted to ask if they saw the assailant. But then I realized…what would I say?

So I rehearsed in my head what I would say to this troubled young man.  Would I tell him that I forgot my anti-psychotics this morning and I will find his mother? Would I tell him that I understand he is upset because I am white but I cant help it and he needs to get over it? Would I use one of the sticks on the ground and whoop his little ass? Maybe I would treat him to a trip to Barnes and Noble where he could buy a book and educate himself on the proper way to share a bike path or the acceptable ways to address a woman in public? Or would i simply engage him in a staring contest because I would be too scared to actually say something.  So I practiced my evil eye behind my mirrored aviators the whole way back in.

Now that I have my look down, I hope we meet again but this time I will Tonya Harding his ass.

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