Hunter gets jumped.

This has been the first week of summer. I’ve moved back to my parents’ neighborhood on the near west side of downtown Cleveland where I’m renting. I love summer with the exception that Katie and I have been separated. Gasp! Yes, Katie has moved back to Maine for the summer. Does this mean that, due to our separation, random stupidity no longer exists in our individual lives?

Hardly.

A large part of my summer is to be spent working. One job I have is at a restaurant about a 10 minute walk from my house called The Flying Fig (www.theflyingfig.com). After a conversation with one of my managers last week at the restaurant, it had been determined that I would be working Wednesday, today, at 4:00. I walked over as the weather was decent. When I got there I realized I had actually not been scheduled. Awesome, a night with nothing planned. No complaints.

With nothing else to do at four in the afternoon, I started walking back to my house. As I don’t have an ipod, I use my sidekick to listen to music whenever I walk places. I was fiddling with it when I notice a car with three black kids inside drive past and make deliberate eye contact. Weird.

I’ve lived in the neighborhood for several years and never had a problem. I dismissed it as maybe… mistaking me for someone they knew?

Still, better safe than sorry, right? So instead of taking my usual route behind the local grocer, I decided to cut across the store’s busy parking lot. As I was exiting the parking lot I saw the same car had circled the block and was now pulling in. They yelled out the window to someone they knew. Whatever.

By this point, I’m walking down a relatively busy street. It’s lined with homes and an occasional restaurant, including my parents’ restaurant about two blocks in front of me. There’s a older black guy walking down the street with his toddler daughter. The randomness of the kids in the car is still running through my mind so I look around just to evaluate where I’m at, if there’s anyone else around, where can I run, etc.

Keep in mind, it’s still bright daylight out and I’m on a busy street surrounded by houses. What could possibly happen?

Famous last words.

I’m listening to music, I’ve got my sidekick out, probably texting, when the same car pulls up and parks across the street. I only see one person get out from the corner of my eye. He runs up to me saying he wants to ask me a question.

For those who have sensitive vocabulary, the following bit may be a bit offensive…it gets a little explicit.

“Hey! Yo! I wanna ask yuh a question! Hold up bro, lemme ask ya somethin.”

Kid 1 is maybe 17 and wearing a hoodie. I continue you walking but I say I’m listening.

“Yo dog, stop man.”

“What is it?”

“You know my nigga Jonny?”

Jonny who? Why would I, some random white kid you’ve never met, know your nigga Jonny? Polite as always, I reply with:

“No dude, sorry.”

“Hey man, stop. We’re uhh… conductin a investigation.” He pauses. “So yeah, put your hands up.”

What?! He has no gun and he’s obviously not in law enforcement. Kid 2 and kid 3 are now out of the car and standing behind me. This isn’t looking so great. I still remain optimistic, however. Maybe it’s because I know I have nothing in my wallet to steal…

“Fuck no, I’m not putting my hands up!”

This is when it gets a little blurred for me. I’ll try to convey the following as best as possible:

Kid 2 grabs me from behind so that I can’t go anywhere while kid 1 goes for the Sidekick. For some reason he just grabs it thinking he can simply take it from my hands. I, however, have just spent $110 that I didn’t have on replacing this phone and have no intentions of giving it up (my exact thoughts at the time). While this struggle takes place, kid 3 is standing guard and kid 2 has his hands all over my ass. He is groping me.

Are these assholes robbing me or sexually assaulting me?

Kid 1 loses his struggle for the phone so as an alternative throws me in a headlock. Kid 2, I realize, is attempting to find where my pockets are to steal my wallet (why this was such a process, I’m not sure). Kid 3 is still watching. I get out of his weak headlock while managing to keep my wallet in my pocket. A small wrestling match ensues where it’s just me holding on to my stuff with one kid making sexual advances on my ass with his hands and another kid trying to steal my phone. Two black kids against one, 150 pound white kid.

Something’s not right here. I’m not in pain and I have all of my stuff. Are these kids total n00bs?

I get shoved up against a fence, take a fist to the jaw and the wrestling continues. At this point, I just want to sit on the ground so kid 2 will stop groping me. Kid 1 has put me back in a headlock, only this time I’m facing him. What do I do? I swing for his balls, of course.

His pants sag too low for me to hit anything. Fuck.

Still, he gets the idea and lets go. I immediately sit on the ground and kid 2 backs off. Suddenly there’s another set of feet. It’s the Black Dad with his daughter. Awesome.

“Hey! Move on now! Do you want to go to jail?! From one brotha to another, leave this kid alone.”

Kid 2 blurts, “He called us niggers!”

Oh bitch, no you didn’t…

“Are you fucking kidding me?! No I didn’t!!! I was walking home and they fucking jumped me!” I’m back on my feet now and thinking maybe Dad has helped me out.

Nope.

I turn to see kid 1 swinging for my face. He hits me on the left side of my head and proceeds to take on his best fighting stance. He makes his fists like a six year old girl. Before I can react, kid 2 has his hands back in my pocket trying to grab my wallet. This was getting old so I shoved an elbow in his face. He didn’t like that very much.

Kid 1 grabs me and throws me to the ground and kicks me in the shin once or twice. Why would you kick me in the shin? Not the stomach or the head. The shin.

Black Dad has now become more proactive and they let up. Amongst various explicit remarks and complaints they walk off and I dash into the restaurant that’s literally two houses down. Thanks Black Dad, you’re my hero.

I wait for them to drive off, wait a couple more minutes, and then sprint down to my parents’ place.

As the evening went on, I realized a couple things. I’m not complaining but it was apparent these kids had either never done this before or just simply sucked at jumping people. I’m no expert on robbing people but there seemed to be some elemental flaws in their attempt:

-First, busy streets in the middle of the afternoon is not the best setting for robbing someone. Pretty basic.

-Second, when trying to rob someone, if you’re going to tell them to put their hands up, either have a gun or make it look like you do. Generally speaking, you know you’ve failed this step if the person effectively says “fuck you” and refuses.

-Third, if you’re going to mug them, it’s important to actually kick their ass. Usually, in the crime world, it doesn’t look good when a scrawny white kid can hold off two black kids at the same time. On the same note, when trying to restrain your victim, a loose headlock is not the best option.

-Finally, actually steal something. Ideally, the person shouldn’t even be able to hold on to the items in question. Either you threaten him and he hands it all over or you kick his ass mercilessly and then take the shit. If you suck too badly to accomplish either of these steps (repeatedly), you should probably stop robbing people.

The end result was some bruising, a broken set of headphones and a retarded story. I think this story is one I’m glad Katie was NOT there for…