Seeing as how an encounter with an angry, armed, trained, 200-something pound detective was not on my to-do list, I continued to move at the same steady pace away from him. He bellowed my name. I was conflicted: afraid to stop and afraid to not stop. I had no time to weigh the pros and cons of each. I spun smoothly then advanced towards him warily. I halted when I was still a fair distance from him.
In between flinging zingers at me, he stayed busy trying to contact someone on his cell phone. It was clear he’d reached… whomever, and he sat on a nearby bench alternating his gaze from me to the area he obviously expected his backup to come from. I told him “I’d love to stay and chat but… I don’t think so” and, heartbeat roaring, moved cautiously away. He said and did nothing to stop me. He did, however, trail after me, all the while still communicating to his buddy. Not once did I look back.
I crossed Monticello Ave, keeping on 2nd Street. A slow motion in blue in my peripheral vision and I knew just who exactly Longhead had called: Porn Star. I shook my head and anxiously wondered where this would lead. Presuming both men were inside, I watched the pair pass by and disappear. Utilizing the only means of protection I had, I slid a camera out of my jacket pocket and flipped on a recorder under my shirt.
As I was coming up to Garrett Street, I saw the Honda pulling over to the curb diagonally across the road. As if one wasn’t frightening enough, now there were two angry, armed, trained, 200-something pound detectives coming at me.
Fortunately for me, a considerable amount of people were around as potential witnesses -- the majority of the reason I went that route.
After an excellent visual display of outstretched arms and a thuggish “you want a piece of me,” Porn Star treated me to a onslaught of insults -- everything from calling me a “nutcase” to telling me my writing sucks; I waited for the “you’re ugly and your mother dresses you funny” but I guess in his rage he forgot that. Like high school jocks, the duo played well off each other. I honestly found that part mesmeric. I listened while they stated, mostly to each other, that I was unintelligent; they had several variations on that theme actually. But when Porn Star made a certain threat, I was done listening. Much like I had moments before with Longhead alone, I managed to extricate myself unhurt.
My vehicle was parked in a somewhat shielded area, affording me far less security than I was okay with, and I was worried to go directly to it. As I moved through the neighborhood on foot, the Honda orbited around me. I called Longhead and told him if they wanted me to leave I couldn’t until they stopped circling me like vultures. He claimed they weren’t restricting my movements.
The three of us crossed paths one more time before they let me go. That discussion set off a few days of negotiations. I thought we’d made a deal but Longhead, being the punk-bitch that he is, broke it. Works for me; I get to post on iHeArTEjade again and the experience gave me more stuff to write about.
