About five years ago, I was walking home from school with my headphones on. A block away from my apartment, I notice some guy wearing a 49ers jacket walking toward me on the opposite corner doing hand signs but I keep walking/ignoring him since I didn't know him. At about half way to meet each other, I notice he's yelling, so I turn my headphones down and look behind me: nobody - I keep walking. When we're about fifteen feet away from each other, I notice those hand gestures and yelling were directed at me, so I take my headphones off to see what his problem was. Appearantly, he didn't like my Raiders shirt and began calling me a "scrap" and was asking where I was from and started telling me how I was in "norteño territory." Knowing he owed me nothing or hadn't done nothing to me, I try to get around him but he insists that we fight (probably because he was a 49ers fan and I was a Raiders fan.) He gets in front of me and punches me on the side of the head (with his inner forearm... tucked into his jacket), so I take my backpack off ready to have a boxing match, when out of nowhere... I see four more motherfuckers running from around the corner. At this point, I feel my balls drop to my ankles as everything turns dream-like. The guy with the jacket then gets behind me and gives me a big hug with my arms to my sides as his four friends proceed to punch and kick me. He eventually lets go but they keep beating on me so I start throwing wild jabs, uppercuts, and elbows. Seeing that my blows influenced them to keep going, I stop, cover my face, and lean forward. About three minutes go by and they stop. When I look up, I was in the middle of the street and the stuff in my backpack was all over the street and cars were souding their horns because wanted to get through. I quickly grab my bloodied-up back pack and stuff my school books back in. When I turn to look at the guys, they were walking away eating some chocolate bars I had just bought! To my surprise, one of them stayed behind and asked me how I was doing. After telling him I was fine, he gave me some advice on how not to wear a blue back pack, a Raiders shirt, and a pair of gray Ben Davis' all at the same time. I thanked him for the advice, the bloody school books, nose, and clothes and I continued my walk home as people who saw me looked at me like I was crazy.
I was thankful that I was not shot, stabbed, nor seriously injured but I regret not asking the guy who stayed behind if I was an official member of their gang!
~KvQ~
