After a good deal of training I was boarding the #19 bus out in Towson, heading back into what Solomon Kane would have called The Pit, but which I call home. The Africa woman who had been speaking to me was let onboard first by all of the men, 2 Mexicans, 1 big white guy in a dress shirt and tie, and two black dudes. The big white dude was a real traditionalist, at only 35 years, even insisting that my old ass gets on before him.
Five minutes later, just inside the City line in the mini ghetto of the Dutch Village apartments, two muscular black men boarded, one large and arguing on his phone with a domineering woman, the other small, coal black, not possessed of a bus ticket, and impatient with the driver’s insistence that he pay. At about 50 years of age he was ignoring the driver, pretending to count out a potential bus fare.
This is the scheduling gambit, where it is known that a driver at the head of a line is loath to get behind on his schedule arguing a point of payment. I can tell by his body language that the apish little man has no intention of paying, as he recounts the same three coins over and over again, his back to the driver, who does move off. The idea behind the scheduling gambit is to get a ride for a few blocks, then discover that you did not have enough change, and ask to be put off.
The big white guy sitting forward of me noticed the man ignoring the driver, and seeking to keep society running smoothly by reminding him that the bus driver has addressed him, said something with a polite tone that was not loud enough to be audible to me, three seats back.
Oh, know he didn’t!
I was laughing before the altercation had reached middle age.
“Who you talkin’ to?”
As soon as the white man tried to explain that there was no malice intended he was lost, drawn into a bitch-making pimp trap as the perspective bitch.
“Oh, I sure as hell know you ain’t talkin’ ta me, bitch!”
The bus driver yelled back, “Whoa, whoa, hold up!”
The little negmudgeon noting the heft and weight of the voice of the Mandingo driver, as well as his looming bulk, glanced at the progress the bus had made, noted that he was now at the Pakistani Gas Station of Infinite Delights, that was his destination in any case, and said, “I don’t got the fare, I’ll get off here.”
The white guy, finally in argument mode as the nasty little ghettoite reached the door and the driver sighed relief, said, “That’s right, get off, bitch.”
The driver groaned.
I put away my book; Andy Nowicki set aside for Flave-O-Flave minus his gold clock.
The little man walked up to the white man and said, “Say it again?”
The white man declined silently.
“Say it again, bitch—say it!”
The man declined silently.
“That’s right—who da bitch now! Not only is you a bitch, but yo mutha a bitch, and yo granmutha a dick-suckin’ bitch—swalloin’ the pipe back in the good ole day!”
The man sat silently, just pointing to the door held open by the driver, indicating that the righteous little man should step off.
“Step off with me, bitch. Come on, step off.”
The man silently declined.
“Oh, I knew I was dealin’ with a bitch. I know a bitch when I deal with him. You won’ swing fo yo mutha, won’ even throw down ova yo dick-suckin’ granny! You a bitch, a naked, raw, lickin’ my balls, bitch! See, a real niցցer would have swung, would have throwed down.”
He walked to the front door and then turned wrathfully, having had a far more significant free ride than he could have imagined; emerging as a prince from a conveyance he had boarded as a measly pauper. “You know what, you disgust me. I won’ ride a bus with the likes of your sorry bitch ass—and yo mamma too!”
Off our hero strutted into the slanting rays of the descending sun.
Never argue with blacks, or negrofied whites, in an African American Ethical Zone. There is literally nothing good that can come of it.
"Democracy is the theory that the common people know what they want and deserve to get it good and hard."—H.L. Mencken
Yes James, it is at once sad and comical, is it not? The white people in Harm City long ago handed control of their city over to the Leftists, who promptly handed control over to the blacks. Clearly the Left was not completely honest and forth coming about what they wanted to accomplish when they asked for the votes of the working class white Harm City dwellers years ago (Surprise!). Note that journalist H.L. Menken was at one time called the "Sage of Baltimore". Did he understand something in particular about the future trajectory of local politics? Nevertheless, many of the said same white folks still haven't figured out it's the black people who are now firmly in control of events and can say and do whatever they want. Including delaying a city bus merely because they don't have the money to pay the fare. Plus The Woman expects white people to be the "adult" in any interaction with one of her oppressed non-white children. Therefore, it is incumbent upon the white person not to initiate any altercation with an individual belonging to an officially recognized a non-white oppressed group, regardless of the provocation. Rather the white person should suffer in silence whenever an oppressed man/woman child insists on being difficult. Certainly whites should refrain from hurling gratuitous insults. Just as it would be unseemly to the public at large for an adult to trade insults and threats with child, so also will the Woman frown upon whites engaging in pissing contests with her oppressed chilluns. Plus, as you have pointed out numerous times James, verbal arguments in the ghetto can quickly escalate into physical combat (faster than you might imagine possible). Are you prepared to deal with the possible consequences of this? If not, best to refrain from any comment. So white folks, be "situationally aware" at all times of where you are and what can happen there.
I would have to say that the number one most important, most required, and most productive survival strategy in majority black urban environments is absolutely not to engage verbally with the criminal class.
Menken really got the character of urban Baltimore. I think what he was predicting was that the influx of rural blacks from the south, with better work habits and more gentile manners than the rude native Baltimoreans of both races, were going to be blunted, corrupted, and turned into what they have become, a reflection of the lesser angels of our nature, as fostered by the Liberal Left, which has controlled this city for over three generations.
BTW, our mayor has just cut police patrols in half as she waits for the hopeful fulfillment of her request for 20 million dollars in FEMA relief to rebuild what she instructed the police to let burn!
Enjoy suburbia Jeremy. Hopefully The Left will never do to suburbia what they've done to the cities.
Good point James about never verbally engaging. No sort of “verbal judo” is likely to be very effective in those situations, since in most cases the hood-rats will have already made the decision to kick your ass. What do they have to fear? Nothing you can say then, no clever remark you can come up with, will be likely to dissuade them from their violent course of action. In fact, any reply you make to their taunts or other ploys to gain your attention will likely have the opposite effect, like a trigger word. Like Sergeant Greg Parker on “Flashpoint” saying “Scorpio”. Further, given the current political climate, your words are even likely to provide the hood-rats with a readymade excuse for their actions, should they even have to explain themselves. Best to keep moving, to not respond to anything said to you and get out of the “kill zone” / “boned zone” as quickly as possible!
Actually I do not live in Suburbia James. I live in the outer belt of small cities circling a large metropolitan area. After roughly an hour’s drive though, I can be in the center of a city just as messed up and crime ridden as Baltimore. A city that has descended into chaos for the identical reasons that Harm City has. The crazy thing, the supreme irony, is that in the peaceful little town I currently live in I am allowed by law to go out in public armed to the teeth, with guns, knives, clubs, pepper spray and stun guns (the state now has a very permissive “shall Issue” concealed carry license system). Whereas you dear James, who dwells in the heart of darkness, must rely on a mere bumbershoot for your defense. There is some small hope that the very worst societal decay might be limited to the major cities, since in my state the Woman has suffered severe defeats politically. The people have in recent years pushed back hard against the chaos and PC lunacy The Woman has inflicted on them. But the fight is far from over; The Woman remains strong and insolent. She is filled with fury at having been thwarted and her minions work tirelessly to destroy all those who would oppose her will. We’ll keep praying for you James. May the Lord fill you with strength for battle and guide the strike of your bumbershoot.