Blue - Apple

There was no need for the beginning of this to be so close to an end. Was I to take a bite of this pretty blue apple, and bite off more than I could chew. I'm sure we have all been through those type of been there and done that episode's and gone thru what we could only imagine among ourselves as a litany of deadly and lethal confrontations. Probably some of it in-which we caused or brought about ourselves. That's where this story takes place....

I walked harmlessly into a bodega- you know, the kind you discover when visiting in your nearest ghetto hood, I don't normally visit these kinds of places, I try and limit myself to my birth right, especially since I did a George Jefferson years ago. On this day I was sent in to get a friend her smokables - still holding the top spot choice in the hood,(Newport's) aka as ports. I was not in the store for a good five minutes when I was getting irritated by the clerk who was paying more attention to his favorite visitors, whom seemed to be more interested in his count of money, than the story he was spitting out. I was no more amused then they were as we seemed to begin the battle for the store clerks attention.This other person who was standing in front of me seeking to do the same, did not hesitate to let me know that they were in the bodega ahead of me. As we waited patiently for the clerks servitude, in walks a slim built dark brother, looking like he doing a little working out. This kat steps right in front of my view of items I was interested in, said a few words as he went by, which I interpreted as a sign of disrepute. Don't know why I didn't like this kat from the jump street; just something about those dark tats had me in a 0 - 60 anger filled mode real quick. In my wild mind I was not going to take this, nor was I going to allow this youngster to get away with it. I had to speak up, I had to get my say in, how dare you disrespect me in such a way, I am not your not "son". Even before I stumbled to get the last of words which told how I felt, out spews such bold and prolific profanity for the likes I never bear to want to witness again. Instant threats of deadly force with intent to use bodily harm were thrown out and hurled against me as this kat walked up on me. Closer and closer trying to bait me, pleading on me to get in the first swing; while every one to include his boys who stood in this bodega watching and now laughing at me. He kept talking, I kept talking, ,him wanting my mouth shut, me wanting to get out of here with out killing anybody. I expected and awaited at any second to have his rain of blows start beating down upon my head, and body. I stood there frozen at first,not wanting to look up, or turn my back towards the kat. You see a face to face is not at your advantage as a sucker punch was coming if I moved or turned away. A beat down was about to commence, and I was right in the middle of it.

If it was not any clearer to me than ever before, that yes; now ; right now, any sudden movement would be the recipe for an instant ass whipping to progress and create sweeping chaos inside this bodega. Cries of I'll beat you down in my friends bodega were the norm on this day, this moment, this hour, as I stood before this kat not wanting for a second to give him any hint that I was fearful. I hate first strikes, and then again I love first strikes, you see even the king cobra does not usually do a first strike, its when you come upon its space that it bolts on you and strikes you with venomous deadly force, all the while not and never allowing you to gain a second chance to strike. I was ready and motivated to fulfill this role. Its so strange how a person feels when instantly faced with such a predicament. Everything seemed to instantly slow down, as my thinking became clearer, my eyes became sharper, and I had an amazing thought, remember when the United States talked about first strike capabilities, somehow does this fall under that umbrella, my mind braced itself for immediate impact.

At any given minute we were about to step toe to toe, as he walked ever closer into my space. I felt the, "use of force was going to be fully authorized", except for one little malfunction. This kat was in front of his boys, all three of them who stood there - eyes wide, mouths open, savoring for me to move an inch towards there kat. Plus this kat never hesitated to warn me he was going to mop the floor with me in his friends store. I stood there reluctantly as this kat boldly dared me to do the unthinkable. I wanted to , hell yea, (I wanted to ) I wanted no other pleasure than to sweep the store aisles with this kat. Was I going to achieve it, one will never know since; there is a well known adage "sometimes you need to live another day to fight another battle" under your own terms.

Was it at last time to fight or was it time for flight. To just turn away and run from it all as if it never really happened. How could I be faced with such a tremendous accountability. (The term "fight or flight" is often used to characterize the body's reaction to very stressful situations. It is an evolutionary adaptation that allows the body to react to danger quickly. Dilated air passages, for example, allow the body to get more oxygen into the lungs quickly, increasing physical performance for short bursts of time. The blood vessels contract in most of the body, which redirects the blood toward the heart, lungs, and major muscle groups to help fuel the reaction.)

When a person encounters a potentially dangerous situation, the hypothalamus in the brain signals the adrenal glands to release adrenaline and other hormones directly into the bloodstream. The body's systems react to these hormones within seconds, giving the person a nearly instant physical boost. Strength and speed both increase, while the body's ability to feel pain decreases. This hormonal surge is often referred to as an "adrenaline rush." It was as if my body in an instant felt alive, felt as if I could take on the world and in this world stood before me was this kat who was still mouthing off in front of me "come on jump for him, so he could beat me down. But here I was with every inch of my body coming into being, with a rushing sense of forced energy flowing throughout me. I felt brand new again, no one can harm me, I was going to be more invincible than I ever was before. Why this kat was not seeing this I don't know, as I awaited his first strike.

It was calm before the storm as everything around me and standing before me was about to be turned upside down. At first I didn't want the fight, I felt it was best to turn the other creek. But now with this rush of adrenaline flowing through my artery and veins. I wanted to fight, I wanted the pleasure of smashing someone, anyone, and who better than to teach a youngster some old tricks and bust his ass up just to get it all out of me. Yes I wanted more than anything to experience the enjoyment of a fight. To obtain the thrill of being alive and have all your senses in seemly complete warrior mode. This is only something we all get to experience while sky diving, or riding a roller coaster, but here I wanted more I wanted revenge, I wanted to exact pain, I wanted that young boy to be hurt. I felt nothing else mattered at this point, as if everything around me was in an instant black out, yet I was alive in it and thinking please swing youngster, please swing at me. Yes I was now in an enjoyable atmosphere, and state. This was something I could control and maybe lead to my own demise, yet I was in a calm state. Finally after our squabble seemed to simmer down, the person who was in line ahead of me, and who was finally served by the clerk and uttered out to me, that the young man did respect me the whole time by uttering out "excuse me sir" in which my ears failed to interpret. This whole time I was about to get into a fight over something I failed to hear correctly. Yet I waited patiently to enjoy the moment.

"Boy do I yearn for those good ole days again" !