Tuesday, October 04, 2005

HumanityCritic and his "Life of Crime"

It occurred to me at an early age that I was never suited for a life of crime. I mean, of course I have had more handcuffs slapped on my wrists than a freaky dominatrix, but those situations usually involved fighting in some bar, that's all. When I was a kid I was never scared to get in serious trouble because I was a minor, as an adult I was never worried too much because if I happened to break some assholes jaw, it was because it was provoked. So basically one would be led to believe that I am a hell raising-rebel rousing dread-locked bastard who shuns rules whenever possible ,huh? Well, not really. People would be surprised(or maybe not) that any other form of criminality and the consequences behind it, through the tenure of my life, I have ran from like Paris Hilton runs from a steak sandwich. Here are some true life tales, albeit embarrassing, where the prospect of having my prostate checked in a correctional facility by men who aren't licensed doctors, scared the living shit out of me.

Gimme the Loot-Gimme the loot: When I was a teenager I had an acquaintance named Craig who was known for being a natural born bad-ass. I was known for punching some random asshole for saying some slick shit to me, Craig was known for fatally shooting people for the same reason. I wasn't particularly scared of Craig, just the trouble that surrounded his ass like the dirt cloud that surrounded that "Pigpen" character in Charlie Brown and shit. One day when I am at a traffic light I see Craig, his girlfriend, and a friend of his that looked like he should have been in a police lineup walking to some undisclosed destination. I hoped that he wouldn't see me, because the last thing I wanted to do was give these fucking deviants a ride anywhere. "Fuck!", I said loudly as Craig and his ragtag crew approached my car and asked me for a ride. I accepted, not because I was trying to help out a "friend", but because Craig was the same motherfucker who shot his cousin over a 10 dollar bet, so I was basically in survival mode. I start to take them somewhere and we are having some small talk when Craig says, "HumanityCritic, can you run us to the store before you take us home??" "No problem!", I said as we headed for the nearest 7-11. As we sit in front of 7-11 they are just sitting there motionless, staring into 7-11, not saying anything for about a whole minute. Then Craig shouts out, "Are y'all ready??! Lets go!!, then they proceed to pulls guns out and head for the store. I yell out the car, in a way that just shows that I was a novice in the age old tradition of robbery, "You motherfuckers are robbing this place!??!!" As I sit there freaked the fuck out, I start to think silly thoughts like, "Think about the street cred I will get after this!! How much respect I will get on these rough and tumble Virginia beach streets!!(Don't laugh! OK, but just a little) Then that angel appears on my shoulder once again. Angel: I know I am an Angel and shouldn't be cursing, but get your motherfucking ass out of here. You want to go to jail? because with that butt those inmate will; "fill you out like an application", do you want that?? Go! Go! GO!" He was right, so as they came out of the 7-11 I left their ass there, as they chased after my car dropping money and miscellaneous corn chips behind them. I must have driven for miles without my headlights, mainly because I didn't want anyone to see my car. Looking back I am surprised that the security camera didn't identify my car, but then we were parked on the side of the building. I kept waiting for Craig to shoot me full of holes for what I did to him, but that never happened since he pissed off the wrong guys and they treated his head like a human pinata, beating him to death.

Drug deal gone bad: When people learn that you can fight you get asked to do the silliest tasks. I was asked to be a bouncer once, but that wouldn't work because I would just be fighting everyone the whole night. I was asked to be a Bodyguard once, but couldn't really see myself taking a bullet for some untalented pop princess or some wanna-be gangsta rapper. I was asked by a bookie to do "collections" for him, but if my money isn't in jeopardy then I couldn't see myself breaking someones arm or fingers because some schmuck didn't get his. But I did agree to something that I regret, being there for a friend who was selling a "Cheech and Chong" amount of marijuana to a very shady individual. My friend informed me that he needed my help, that the guy he was dealing with had his own "muscle", and he gave me a handgun just in case something happened during the deal. The whole thing seemed like a foolish decision on my part, I have the wrong temperament, and me and handguns don't mix the same way "soap" and "Courtney Love" don't really go together. But because the guy is a friend I went against my better judgment and went along. We meet this asshole that my friend is selling a duffel-bag full of weed to and the shit seems suspect immediately. For one thing, the guy's muscle kept looking around nervously, and the guy was stalling with small talk instead of handing my friend his money quickly. Well I am a paranoid person by nature, so I tell the buyers "muscle", "Get your fucking hands out of your pocket!!" The buyer looked at my friend and said, "tell your boy to calm down!" as his muscle inches closer to me. I'm not into drug deals, I am a suburban black bastard and what I know about "street life" could fill a fucking thimble, so I just got out that gun and hit that guys "muscle" with it as hard I could. He hits the ground and I go through his pockets and grab his weapon, all this while hyperventilating because of being in a unfamiliar situation, and tell the guy "Just pay him the fucking money already!!" The guy does and me and my friend are on our way, driving off as fast as possibe. He then turns to me while we are driving off and says "It was going OK, why are you still paranoid??" Still holding the gun that he had supplied me with, I accidentally point it at him and say, "It's not like I know anything about the drug game, I'm from Virginia Beach for Christs sake, not Compton!!" He balls himself in the passenger seat because of me mistakenly pointing a loaded firearm at him, so I lower it and say "My bad" Lets just say that that was the last favor he asked of me, ever.

Good Cop-Bad Cop: Because my penchant for extremely loose women and potent marijuana, during college I used to frequent a residence that we all affectionately called "The Smoke House". "The Smoke House" was my main hangout everyday because of the women that would be there giving up their bodies like suicide bombers, and because I stopped a guy from beating up one of the drug dealing owners of the residence, it meant free marijuana. I never thought about all the people who came in and out of that place, and how "hot" it was police wise, I just knew that that place was a piece of unadulterated heaven to me. I guess the police were monitoring that place for a while, on some surveillance type shit, because the cops picked me up as I walked to class one day. They knew who I was, told me that they saw me frequenting that place regularly, and wanted to ask me some questions. I was scared shitless as I sat in the back of their cop car, but I had seen one too many cop shows to know to say, "Fuck y'all, I wanna see my lawyer!!" They ignored that, and asked me if I knew about the heroin that my friends were peddling out of there. Even though that was news to me, primarily because I just thought they served bud, but I said, "I don't know what you fuckers are talking about?" They then said that they would find something to charge me with if I don't tell them what they wanted to hear, but I knew that they were just talking shit so I giggled a little at them. Then, in a move that I have seen on shows like "Cagney and Lacey", "Hill Street Blues", and even on an episode of "21 Jump Street" once, they proceed to tell me that people that I considered friends have eluded to the fact that I am the drug dealer. They said that my friends had ratted me out and that "I would be facing major time". Even though I knew it was standard cop bullshit, I was getting scared, scared shitless actually. As they lied their ass off all I could think about is prison, and how I didn't want to go to jail for some motherfuckers that I hardly knew. On the outside I was cool as a fan, giggling like a bad-ass to the cops and their threats, inside I was about to cry like a teething child, about to sell my mother down the river if it meant avoiding the "big house". Right when I had head enough, right when I was about to give up everything from names to birthdays to Social Security number to the drug dealers "pet peeves", the cops said "Get your ass out of the car, we're done with you!" I stepped out the car and defiantly said, "Fucking pigs!! "Thinkin' every ni**a is selling narcotics!!!"(NWA reference) As soon as the cops turned the corner I dropped to my knees and began to throw up, violently, for about 15 minutes. It just seems that I am not suited for a life of crime I guess.

34 comments:

glory said...

yeah uh... stay your ebony posterior outta trouble. we ain't got no bail money for you, and it ain't like you can blog from jail to get us to take up collection like they had to do in houseparty.

Oliviasmommi said...

Yeah I have to go with Glory on this one...keep your ass out of jail cause you have too many folks relying on your blog these days...LOL...Plus, you can't marry me from prison *wink*.

Brother OMi said...

"the women that would be there giving up their bodies like suicide bombers"

man you should've been an MC... lol

Nia said...

Stop it...I can't believe you left them niggas with money and corn chips falling out of their hands. Yeah I have to believe you do indeed have an angel because another nigga might not have lived to tell this story.

The Urban Author said...

wow. unbafuckin' leavable. what i can always dig is life experience. if you went through it, it comes out so real (detailed) when you retell it. you should write a book or three

TMJ said...

That was some hilarious shit! I think my favorite was pistol-whipping the muscle with the gun during the weed deal...man, my poor white conservative place of employment would be appalled at the reason I keep laughing uproariously out loud.

Breez said...

Like suicide bombers? You're killing me, lmfao!!

blackcaesar said...

too real.
people don't expect big guys to ever be scared. most big guys never even see conflict like that. i say you go out a slap someone just to reminisce...

soxlove said...

" It just seems that I am not suited for a life of crime I guess."

Ya think??? Boy, was that an understatement or what?

But seriously, Nathan McCall in Makes Me Wanna Holla talks about just how difficult living the life of crime is (albeit from the perspective of selling drugs), but I think the point is still valid. Take care and be good...

Amadeo said...

All my police encounters had some B.S. attached...the worst...getting locked up at Kings Dominion on Black College Day.

indigo said...

stay out of jail... shit is real man (not that i know from firsthand experience or anything...) :-D i like ur blog tho.

Ddot the King said...

Good post HC. I guess we all have a little Tupac in us! I haven't seen you over at my blog in a while holla at me!

kathi said...

You are simply adorable. Yeah, I know you're probably cringing at that, but it's what I think.

Chubby Chocolate said...

You are hilarious. My favorite post I've read from you so far!

Good story.

piranha said...

at least something! :) girls like rockstars anyways better than gangstas. you know....so giving yourself an outlet for your aggressivity through punkrock or whatever it is you do is way better than let this aggressive POTENTIAL (yes it is a potential, just needs to be applied properly,...lol...do i sound like a shrink>???) being abused for some major bullshitchains operating in dubios businesses.....

loved that post and boy, you had me laughing........

Anonymous said...

"Plus, you can't marry me from prison *wink*."

Damn, even in the cyber world white girls chase black men. Why can't y'all just let them be?

Laylah Queen of the Night said...

You couldn't make this stuff up if you wanted to. I can't believe your life of crime. Your azz is destined to be somebody cause if it was anyone else they'd be taking a dirt nap! lol...

Oliviasmommi said...

@ Anonymous...

First of all, since you obviously do not know me or the author of this blog personally, why do you assume that I am "chasing" him? Truth be told, it was HC that made the first move in contacting me on another online site.

And Damn...even in the cyber world, hating is running rampant...at least in the real world people say shit to your face and do not hide behind anonymity!

Tameka said...

@ Oliviasmommi: Don"t worry about that anonymous jackass, that is probably one of HC's haters just talking shit on his blog. Shit, HC first came to my site and that is how I found his blog also, so that asshole can't accuse me of "chasing him" either..lol Good post HC.

theclamwhisperer said...

Just tuned into HC's blog and realize these comments are taking on a life of their own. Down girls! I know it's documented somewhere that violence on television causes random acts of hostility but I've never read any data on pre-meditative blogs causing aggressive behavior. Regardless, it was a great read. Keep it up you dredlocked druid...

Anonymous said...

And Damn...even in the cyber world, hating is running rampant...at least in the real world people say shit to your face and do not hide behind anonymity!

Oh calm your canine behind down already, you're about to start foaming! I just said that out of boredom. Laughing at you taking serious offense. Get over it *wink*.

Timmy said...

Great post...the most entertaining thing I've read in a long time.

Oliviasmommi said...

@ Anonymous...

And I am laughing at your inability to know the difference between a simple retort and "taking serious offense".

Kathryn said...

Most people tell other to stay away from crime. I am going to need crime to stay away from you!.

Sparkling said...

Trying to imagine you running like Paris Hilton... or Paris with dredlocks... nah!

Count said...

That's funny as hell. At least you kept it real. I've known lot's of suburban cats that would've cried and pissed themselves in shit like that. Check out my blog ... www.countsworld.blogsource.com
It ain't poppin' like yours, just a lil place to talk shit. Keep writing man ... peace!!

Ms Peculiar said...

Humanity Critic - good work. I am not going to try to marry you while you are in prison. But I might give up the conjugal visits. MU HU HAAAHA A
Just kidding. I just wanted to act up. sorry. Since I am mixed does that mean that I can only HALF chase you? Dang thats gonna be strange.

Oh dang forget it. I forgot I'm married. lol
I swear I never knew blogging was so dangerous...

Tif said...

See, I don't get it-- I lived a life of crime- no reprocussions, now I'm living this psuedo corporate life and I got all types of legal woes for going upside peoples heads. If HC lived in MD you would be be in the pennitentary. They treat ass whippings like gun shots here for some reason. Otherwise yeah stay away-- you broke like umpteen hood laws in each of those stories.

Cressida said...

when I was in jail for 8 hours I blubbered like a 4 year old the whole time. The experience has left me indescribably scarred. I only have to think of the green jumpsuit and I shudder.

David said...

Great stories HC!

ManNMotion said...

Have to lol @12272

On bodyguarding, dude, what if this was your route to Rosario Dawson? I'm sure she needs a bodyguard from time to time!

miyna said...

man, listen...
i'm glad you didn't/don't go that route. where would the blogosphere be without your rowdy ass lightin' shit up every once in a while?

Sankofa said...

I am not sure what is funnier...this crazy ass paot of the women figting over you in your comments.

By the way ladies, no need for anyone to "chase" HC. After all the years of smoking weed, his chubby ass can't run anyway.

Love you Papi! ;-)

Sankofa said...

I am not sure what is funnier...this crazy ass post of the women fighting over you in your comments.
By the way ladies, no need for anyone to "chase" HC. After all the years of smoking weed, his chubby ass can't run anyway.
Love you Papi! ;-)