They came running down the street, three black guys; two with their shirts off, muscles rippling, shiny with sweat, moving in on the third. They reach my storefront, dancing and weaving, fists up, ready, yelling all the time “what’s up nigga”, “you want some nigga”, “come and get it nigga”, “you want some, you want some, you want some”; they dance around the arcade in my storefront, moving in, closing up the space; he runs between them, back out onto the sidewalk, and BAM they’re on him, and he’s on the ground. Now there are ten people in a mob around, three or four laying into the guy on the ground who is curled up, fetal; yelling; cars pulling over on the sidewalk, and if there were serious intentions they’re dropped, because the guy’s allowed back up, and he retreats up the street, shirtless, pants wet where he pissed himself. At this point his girlfriend appears, and a friend, and they start walking with him. The mob starts walking away, but the two original attackers follow the retreating group, yelling “don’t come back, ya hear nigga”, “get out of here nigga”, “don’t come back, don’t come back”. The girlfriend turns and yells something back at them, which causes a girl to detach from the mob, run forward, and attack her, pulling her hair down by her braids, slapping her face, “shut up ho”, “shut up bitch nigga”, “ho bitch”. The beat up guy makes a step forward, but is held off by one of the attackers, who has picked up a large rock, and throws it at him, missing him by six inches. Some more minor jousting and it’s over, the defeated group walking warily away, the mob spreading out. Someone yells “poh-leeeetz”, and some cops drive lamely by, having totally missed the action.

Just another evening in downtown Vallejo.

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