So, I'm walking out of the Chicago Theater after the Kanye West concert on Thursday night to find my cousin Carla waiting for me. She came to help me navigate my way around the city. We walk to the bus stop on State St. to wait for the number 29 bus to arrive and take us back to the Red Roof Inn on Ontario St. The wait was to be about 15 minutes.
In that time span I overheard a man verbally harassing a lady standing behind me. There were probably 20 people waiting at this bus stop and everyone ignored what was going on - I guess they were used to this sort of thing. I kept glancing back at the lady. She was cute. Young, black with noticeably great skin. Her hair was curly like Tracy Ross's. She was petite (about 5'4"), skinny and in shape. She probably knew some type of defense fighting. I could envision her kicking this guy's ass.
The man harassing her was about the same height. He wore an over-sized doodoo-colored T-shirt, with ripped black jeans and some beat-up sneakers.
I mouthed "Are you okay?" to the lady. She responded with, "this nigga can't do nothin'. I can handle this."
Can you say Damn!?
While this was happening I noticed a crowd of people gathered across the street in front of two TV's faced out to the street. Inside was the ABC Channel 7 News studios. On the TV's was the Lakers vs. Magic game. The crowd oohed and awed at every point scored. I began making comments about the game and the man stopped harassing the lady to come give me some dap (I guess we were both rooting for the Lakers). He held his hand up for a good five seconds before I looked away and said, "Naw I'm good."
That set him off.
"Awww fu** this nigga! I ain't taking that sh**!"
Yeah, he was kinda offended.
I continued to ignore him. He then held up a can of 211 Beer (apparently its pretty dense) and threatened to hit me over the head with it. I just looked at him with a straight face. I then looked at the lady, only for her to smile back at me and say, "Your turn."
He went on and on for about five minutes before walking off across the street mumbling to himself. I turned to the lady with a perplexed look on my face. She had little sympathy.
"It's nothing," she said. "It happens all the time. Where are you from?"