The summer I graduated High School I was a bit high on life and walking around the streets of Buffalo late one evening on a block on Elmwood Ave.   There were four of us.  Maazookaavetch, Montana, Vercingetorix Sol and myself.  We were strolling along and feeling jaunty and good about ourselves in the warm evening air.

As we made our way up a particular block there was a group of black guys sitting and standing in and around an open car hanging out.  There was about 8 of them.  Well I guess they were looking for trouble because one of them calls to us “Hey look at the faggots”.  Then they all start saying it, like “hey white faggots”, “hey faggots”.

They outnumbered us so we just walked by and didn’t say anything.  But we had had it.  Our egos were all a bit bruised.  These guys were from another part of town and just came to try to make some trouble because they had nothing better to do.  That is how it was in Buffalo and probably still is.  Small minded people with a miserable life trying to make other people more unhappy than they are.

We kept walking but we were all a little silent.  None of us, I think, really wanted to admit that we felt that we had pussied out, but we had.   Even though, it would have been a disaster if we had tried to fight them.  I don’t think it would have been worth it.  Or to stand there and argue with them would have made no sense.  “Hey guys, we’re no faggots, fuck you!”

Still there was this feeling.  I said “Those fucking assholes, coming over here causing trouble.  Who the fuck are they.  We ought to make them fucking eat shit.”   We might have joked about it a little but the general sentiment was that we wanted to destroy them.  We kept walking and thinking about it.  I think the feeling kept building in all of us.  Those fucking bastards ruined our good times.  They made us feel like pussies.  And what could we really do about it?  Go fight them?  4 against 8?  Then I saw the answer right in front of me.

On the ground next to a tree, next to the sidewalk was a bunch of foot long metal pipes.  They were lead pipes and could really do some damage.  I could imagine taking the pipe and busting a few of their faces nicely.  But I had a better idea.  We all grabbed a pipe and headed to Maazookaavetch’s pickup truck.  It wasn’t some old hillbilly pickup or anything.   It was a Toyota pickup, with no roof in the back.  Montana and I got in the back and Maazookaavetch drove with Vercingetorix Sol in the passenger side.

I was already feeling exhilarated.  I could feel that justice was going to be served.  The truck pulled off and suddenly the night air felt warm again.  We sat quietly in the back waiting.  Montana and I nodded and smiled.  We were ready for action.

We got to the light and waited for it to turn green.  The pipe was in my hand and felt good there.  I couldn’t wait to deliver my special gift to those fucks.  The truck slowed as we neared the block where the car was parked.  The guys had all left and were probably out making trouble somewhere else.  I imagined them walking around bullying everyone with their big posse of pussies.  The truck drove up slowly next to the car.  There was no one on the block, dead calm, no cars in sight.  All perfectly meant to be.  Montana and I stood up, him at the back windshield and me at the front.  Then it was like “Go” and we launched the huge pipes right through the window and BOOOM!  They both exploded.  Then we shot out of there like lightning.  Exhilaration!  I think we all went home after that, but with a warm fuzzy feeling instead of a deflated balloon feeling.

Lets never forget, when life has you down, play dirty!