- Wed Apr 18, 2012 9:51 pm
We had this friend, Colin, in late High School/Early College. He was really into rap, and used to speak in mumbles, mainly saying "huhuhuh, yeah Son"....everything went back to son."That's what I'm talking about, Son"...."That is the shit, Son"...."What's the plan, Son?", etc. A big dude, he wasn't slow or anything, just unique, and really into hip hop. We'd go to parties, and he'd sit alone, giggling with a 40, and mumble to himself "yeah son" when we were at the diner afterwards. Girls thought he was weird, and he never hooked up. I liked the guy, honestly. One night, after a party, the guy who drove the car there was too drunk to drive home, so we plopped him in the bitch seat in the front, passed out, another friend driving. Colin was in the passenger seat, me in the middle back, and one friend on either side, 3 deep in both rows. We were all drunk, and I said something, I can't remember what, and this dude turned around, mumbled something with "yeah Son" in it, and slapped me in the face. Fucking slapped ME....in the face. I reflexively punched him as hard as I could, right in the middle of his forehead. Knocked him back into the dash, and the two guys on either side of me sat up as I rebounded back, and hit him 3-4 times each, leaving him crumpled in the footwell. The original driver never woke up, still passed out in the middle, the reserve never even looked over, and we continued the ride in complete and total silence. No one even looked at each other for that ride home...and everyone went their separate ways as we were dropped off. No radio, no hooting and hollering, just 4 dudes sitting in a 1986 white Malibu looking straight ahead, one passed out in the middle, and one cowering in the footwell.
To think back on that now......I'm not sure if I feel good, bad, or indifferent. You know?
Lord let me die, but not die......out