Sitting at the bus stop, minding my own business, I found myself caught between a rock and a hard place. Looking back on it after the fact, I can laugh about it easily, but that was sadly not the case while in the moment. Let me explain.
While babbling at a bar about my passion for the Boston Red Sox organization, I realized that there was a fellow baseball enthusiast in the house. Her name is Megan and she has been a faithful Giants fan since the creation of their present ball park, AT&T Park. We talked and talked about petty statistics and former players, which eventually lead to an invitation to see a game with her and her family. I obviously accepted this invitation and am very glad that I did. I had a great time, aside from the fact that my brain was mush, I acted like a zombie during the entire game, and had a canker visible on my lip. The latter effected me to an absurd degree, forcing me to avoid direct, close eye contact. Self consciousness runs wildly throughout the majority of my family and close friends, sadly, but I have plenty of experience in dealing with it.
While taking public transportation, I got a call from Megan telling me to get off immediately and she would pick me up. I did so and waited at a bus stop where she said she told me to go. While waiting, and while being the nosy person that I am, not looking over at the group of Mexican gangsters was impossible. It was as clear as day that they were dealing drugs and I couldn't help but watch. There were about five very hard looking thugs conducting their business freely and openly until one of them noticed me staring. Knowing very little Spanish, I heard something that may have been in reference to me. That frightened me. I postponed my nosiness for a moment. In that moment, I noticed one of the hoodlums walking toward me. He was walking in a fast, aggressive manner, but that didn't change my approach at all, surprisingly. He got to an uncomfortably close area in relation to my personal space and said, "Are you a cop?"
Almost flattered by this interaction, I gasped with relief and replied, "Am I a cop? Nope. Not a cop."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, positive."
He walked backwards, back toward his group of fellow gangsters. All things considered, he was very a lot more cordial than I imagine he should be, given the exact context of our conversation. As I waited to be picked up, I pulled a book out from my bag and made it look as if I were reading it. Time passed, and a bus came and went. While the Mexican thugs were watching me, I realized that the bus that had just left is the only one that stops at that specific stop. Adopting the persona of a cop, still sticking around the bus stop after it had just left must have looked suspicious in the mind of my thug counterpart. And I realized that quickly. It was then deemed necessary to flee.
I briskly left the scene and walked in the direction that Megan and I would intersect the soonest. Glorifying the situation in my mind, I felt like Jack Bauer/Indiana Jones/Bruce Willis-in-just-about-any-of-his-roles. It was fun to think that way, knowing that these petty drug dealers had probably since forgotten about the situation entirely.
This is where I'd like to say that I narrowly evaded gun fire coming from every possible angle. Minutes later, Megan drove by and I safely left the scene.
