Sunday, May 10, 2009

Girlz in da hood

Here is a classic store from my hood. Last Thursday night I was meeting up with some people to watch game 6 of the Bulls playoff. My “L” stop is super ghetto and was dubbed by the paper as the station that smells most like urine and fried chicken. We have only two turnstiles. When I approached the station, I noticed a whole group of large angry black women were gathered in front of the turnstiles. They were having a heated argument when all of a sudden one shouted out “Bitch, I’ll CUT YOU!” and then lunged at a girl. The two started to kick, punch, scratch, pull, etc and did the other girls try to separate them…hell no! They circled around wagging their fingers cat calling with “uuummm huuummm, I said that bitch gonna fuck you up”. Of course they are fighting in and around both turnstiles preventing the growing number of us from entering the station. Also a train had just arrived, so there was a whole flock of people who wanted to exit but couldn’t. We kept doing a little tippy toe dance with our fare cards out in the chance they decided to move out of the way.

The fight was very much like a Jerry Springer show. You know, where the two would fight, the separate for a moment or two while they circled each other like lions while spouting out various obscenities only to lunge back together with fists flying. I wasn’t the only one who found this highly amusing. I saw a few people in the crowd stealthily take out their cell phone cameras and snap a few pictures.

Nearby was a CTA worker who obviously had only ten minutes left on his shift. He sighed and was all “girls…come on, really…do you need me to call the cops”. Meanwhile, I said in my head “wait, I know exactly where the cops are…they are right outside my apartment busting some dope deal”. Eventually the fight moved off to the side and all of us waiting to enter/exit the station all ran through the turnstiles in rapid succession. I am sad I didn’t snap any pictures because the girls looked hilarious. One’s weave was all sticking up on one side, the other was bleeding from a scratch on her forehead and her shirt neckline was all stretched out. I called some friends to relate the story while waiting on the train platform. Sure enough, while I was talking to one, the background was filled with police sirens.


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