#59-23: night, seconds, first-person aggressor
“This was outside a club, started by a chump. The Mac Daddy don’ have no wrong intentions. (Yes, the inevitable protestation of innocence!) I’m walkin’ up en this dude lookin’ at me like he know me—shouldn’ be lookin’ like that at someone he ain’t tight with. So I say, ‘What you lookin’ at? What’s yo problem?’
“He say, ‘What you lookin’ at niցցer?’
“Said it like that, like we in Mississippi—real nasty like. I said, ‘Who you callin’ niցցer?’
“His friend he was with was my friend. And he say to this chump, ‘If you start trouble you on your own.’
“Now he ‘bout my height, but only one-seventy to my two-seventy. He corna back size. I was offensive tackle—eat them boys fo lunch. Loved runin’ sweeps right ova they little asses—crunch!
“Now this guy grab me, which I thought was kina ill-advised—stupid actually. He grab me [by the lapel] with the right hand, and was talkin’ shit; stickin’ that jaw out. His left hand was down, not where it sposed ta be—and The Mac Daddy punch, punch fo keeps: right, left, right, all heavy in the jaw. He fall out face first in the pavement with a broke jaw.
“Chump pressed charges. I goin’ ta court at eight-thirty ta represent maself. The company lawyer don’ work but so many hours ‘fore he cost, en I owe ‘im fo the last assault case.”
The Mac Daddy’s last semi-pro football game was against a team consisting of cops. He was ejected and banned from the league for fouls, late hits, and excessive contact. He was, of course, innocent of each of these false allegations. Just ask his mother.
