This is a "Sidewalk", Not a "Jack Me of All My Money Area"

People often think that I can't handle myself. They think that because I have never been from the "hood" or from the "streetz" or from the "soowerz" or just because I have never owned "gat" or have never "pulled the strap from the nine" or know what a "grill" is or just because "rap music frightens me" or I punch like an "infant" that I am somehow unable to handle myself in the city. And that is proposterous!

One night, I was out going around in a walk-type manner and I was taking in the fresh cold air, thinking about fine wines, fine clothes, and fine ladies and fine ladies wearing fine clothes and drinking fine wines and then being taken in by my fine charms. It was while I was having this magical journey of self that I saw someone walking my way on the street. I was fine with this, because that is what a sidewalk is for. "Walk" is right in the word and who am I to argue against this guy that he can't walk on it? I then moved over to one side of the sidewalk so that he may pass, because that is also suggested in the name.

As he approached me, he then veered towards me and pulled out an inch long blade and said to me "give me all your funky money". At least that is what I thought he said. He may have also replaced money with "monkey" but that doesn't make sense due to the fact that I clearly had no monkey on me. Although I did not necessarily discount the fact that maybe he wanted a monkey, because who wouldn't? I know I wouldn't but that is because they are high maintenance and if I would have had one, I would have given it to him. But the money thing seemed more likely and I was a bit incensed that he would demand my money. I mean, this is a "sidewalk", not a "Jack me of all my money area". I was only incensed for a split second as I realized that he was willing to cut me for my money (or monkey) and that is when I went into survival mode. My eyes opened wide and I paused a moment and then did the only rational thing and ran past him as fast as my gangly legs could take me. He started running after me, but I was much faster. Probably due to the fact that I walk a lot and unlike him who probably focused on his knife work or possibly homemade Christmas cards. He gave up and then turned to walk away as I ran for the safe haven of a Burger King. I noticed that he turned away.

At this moment, I knew that I could survive on the streets or streetz. And I did the only rational thing to do at that time. I yelled out, "EAT IT!" and then I went to go into the Burger King for safety. I got to the doors and to my horror, found that they were locked for the night. I checked to make sure that the mugger was not following me. He wasn't so I went home.

In hindsight, I should've followed him at a distance and called the police on him, but that was not on my mind as "I don't want to get stabbed" or "shanked" if you will.