his eyes were drunk/stoned and wild and he looked at me with intensity, and then glanced over to his friends.

When I was 20, I was The Driver for some younger friends (I think they were like 15, no car. I had car) and they wanted pot or whatever.

Well, they were friends, I had car, they had money and they shared freely and I was stupid. So whatever.

Drove them to a few neighborhoods away, to “the black streets” at about 2am.

I TRIED to stay in the car while they went up to the dealer.

One black guy who was sitting on the steps jumped up and came up to the car and was like, “come out, come out, I want to SHOW you something.” He was drunk/stoned/whatever. Big dude. So i got out of the car.

He grabs my arm and does a slicing motion across it with his lighter and starts doing a dramatic Martin Luther Jr speech with me to his friends.

“If I CUT you, DO WE NOT bleed all the same color?” etc – his eyes were drunk/stoned and wild and he looked at me with intensity, and then glanced over to his friends.

I realized I was unwittingly part of a play. So, I let him lead.

15 minutes of him aggressively grabbing and doing jabbing and slicing motions on my bare arm, jostling me around a bit but I’m tall myself so it wasn’t a big deal, just unexpected.

I was glad when my friends came back out. Didn’t go back to that street again, but it was unforgettable.

=

Well being part of a play for me was always a stomach churning, awkward, blushing experience for me where I felt like wetting my pants but I manage to get through it.

That’s what “part of a play” is for me.

I think blacks always liked me ’cause I either have a Jesus look or “hacker dude” look when sans beard. I never had the King Tutt thing going for me like you but that’s pretty cool.

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