I hit the storage unit I own last week and it reminded me of an experience when I seen the jacket above. It's hard to remember what year it was but if Mack Jr. (my son) is 13 now then it had to be around 2001. I had landed a charitable job in the mortgage industry located in Livermore, CA and decided to move close by (2.5 miles). After establishing myself as a true "go getter" I treated myself to a fly apartment in the desirable neighborhood simply because I could afford it. Everything was so close as far as a night life, there was no need to drive. After several months with getting familiar with my surroundings, I decided to step out vs. heading back to the comfortable tenderloins of Stockton, Ca. I walked downtown and hit a spot that was knocking some Too Short. I had on a jean Platinum Fubu outfit with a crazy nice logo of Fat Albert on the back, pants too! Black Timberlands and a cell phone that was about a year before its time.
I hit the club and posted at the bar. Clearly I felt out of pocket, there's no colored folks in site. But like some hard headed black people like myself I said fuck it. I stubbornly felt invincible to my surroundings. The DJ plays some Mac Dre and that's a signal for those who understand the "Thizz" movement, to hit the floor and commence to "giggin". Two white girls feel the swagger and decide to join. Hey, its all good right? They were friends but obviously trying to out do one another. I recognized and when the song was finished I bought them both a Redbull and Vodka just to chill out. (wine would have been better, now I know) The ugly one got aggressive and I gave her a straight arm just so she could recognize game, chill out. She started poppin off at the mouth and I was like whatever! Clubs over and time to go home so I start to stroll.
I'm was on my phone feelin myself talkin to the ex-wifey telling her I made it and shit. A Ninja was clockin $80k suggesting she should come visit. Half way strolling to the crib, I look back and Livermore Police Department drew down on me (pulled out there guns). I dropped my phone and cooperated! No explanation, no reason, for arrest until I got in the back seat. The aggressive white girl in the club was the Sergeant on Duty's younger sister. I told him, "on my life I never was aggressive with her or threatened her in any way". He was not hearing it and told me I was lucky just to be going to jail. That's when I got quiet and said Fuck! There goes my job. But it was Wednesday and for sure I could bail out and be back to work by Friday. I had good money!
I sucked it up and caught the flu immediately when I hit the main pod and a bunk at Santa Rita County Jail in Pleasanton, Ca.. My immune system shut down due to stress. I called my best friend G-Mac and he excepted every collect call. They wouldn't let me bail out until Monday and I was so sick I couldn't make it to chow time. Breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Thank God brothas recognized me from Stockton because of a local Rapper that goes by Melly Mel. They blessed me with oranges, apples, and fluids so I could gain my strength back over the weekend. Men in there call the place "the concrete curtain" because no matter your situation, nobody really could see your pain.
I believed in my friend G-Mac and he got me released Monday morning round 9am. I jogged 3 miles to the bus stop and on the way home, I hit the Plesanton Mall to pick up my sons Christmas pictures we took. Boy was he shining! When we took those pics I made sure he got a good nap prior and was full of Ms. Fields Chocolate Chip cookies! We had three outfits a piece and were feeling like celebrities at the JC Penny's photo department. The Puerto Rican dude taking the pictures was really having fun too. I remembered him well.
Once I got off the bus and arrived at the mall, guess who I opened the door for? That's right, the same girl who put me in jail! I smiled and asked her why? Her and her girlfriend ran to the car and I told her we would she each other in court. Picked up my pictures of Mack Jr. and headed straight to work. My bosses were white but they knew I was out of place trying to kick it in the Livermore night life. Plus my value on the job was too great to let go of me. I raised the bar for the hole office and they were glad I was back. During lunch I called a lawyer and scheduled an appointment with him the next day. Wrote a check for 5 racks thinking I'd be all good. You see paying for your innocence everyday on television so I was comfortable. Not the case. All the money did was drop the accusation to a misdemeanor battery charge and community service for basically letting a white girl know I'm cool...
The crazy thing is that when I decided I had enough of Livermore and bought a new KB home in wine country Patterson, Ca, I came home from the grocery store and laid down upstairs and heard the next door neighbor whooping his woman's ass! I woke up and said damn...how can I go over there and settle that shit down? I had never introduced myself. I grabbed the unopened bottle of Belvedere I bought recently, found an adhesive bow, and headed there house with the house warming gift. Took a while for them to answer the door but guess who it was? Yep, the same Puerto Rican dude that was the photographer at JC Penney's. He was embarrassed and his girl was hella fine! I never touched her though. Neighbors are too close for comfort. But you never heard him putting hands on her again. A single, black, and successful male with all the big boy toys right next door can have a positive influence when your an insecure man putting your hands on your woman.
Life is crazy..Somebody told me long time ago that taking a personal inventory was important to let go of unfortunate fluke circumstances that occur. Write the shit down, mail it, and be done with it. So poof! Be gone. I'm good and still here. Thanks to all the Stockton, Ca black men that recognized my illness while on lockdown and my close friend G-Mac. I had breakfast with him this morning. I will always keep this jacket, it's a trophy.
Author: C. Gonzales
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