Ich bin ein Brooklyner
Sep. 19th, 2009 02:20 pmLast night I noticed some kids hanging out on my stoop. My parents are away and my brothers were having a party at the time, so I checked with my brothers to ensure the loiterers were not theirs. They weren't, so I asked them to please get off my stoop. This one kid said no, he wouldn't, he and his friends lost something and anyways they were only going to be a few seconds. Oh, and he also swore at me. I asked him if he had already looked for it, and he said he had, so I repeated the request. He said he wouldn't, after all, what would I do, call the cops? The cops know him, he said, and they'd just laugh. He then said that he'd likely been in the neighborhood longer than I had, even though he was half my age and called me a yuppie.
This is about where I truly lost control of the conversation. I told him I grew up in the neighborhood. Never saw me, he said. Probably because I have a job and a life. This went on for a while until one of my brothers came out and also asked them to leave. The kid then said that if I wasn't going to call the cops, then he'd just have to fight me right there on the street.
Eventually, one of my brothers' friends came out, knew the kid through his sister (they are much more integrated into the locals than my family and I are) and gave him $10 for his lost property, and he went on his merry way.
The lost property? A dime bag, of course. They wanted to smoke up on my stoop. Which would open my parents' property up to search and seizure in case a police officer wanted to make a case of it. Which would have been bad for my dear brothers' party, no?
I just felt so helpless and useless. I hope tonight goes better.
This is about where I truly lost control of the conversation. I told him I grew up in the neighborhood. Never saw me, he said. Probably because I have a job and a life. This went on for a while until one of my brothers came out and also asked them to leave. The kid then said that if I wasn't going to call the cops, then he'd just have to fight me right there on the street.
Eventually, one of my brothers' friends came out, knew the kid through his sister (they are much more integrated into the locals than my family and I are) and gave him $10 for his lost property, and he went on his merry way.
The lost property? A dime bag, of course. They wanted to smoke up on my stoop. Which would open my parents' property up to search and seizure in case a police officer wanted to make a case of it. Which would have been bad for my dear brothers' party, no?
I just felt so helpless and useless. I hope tonight goes better.