STABBED

 

On Hollywood Boulevard at night in my heyday (photo by John N.)

Gather around the campfire, boys and girls, I have another true tale to astonish you with.

In my previous post, "Misconstrued", the subject of stabbings came up in the comment section. Bizarre, of course, but then, my blog is infamous for unconventionality. That's why you like it.

I'm seldom boring. Boring mundane things annoy me.

Okay, let's go back to my youth in Southern California. I'll forget the murders in Orange County.....and transport you to Hollywood.

I was extremely familiar with Hollywood and downtown L.A.  Both places, of course, could be dangerous after dark.......but downtown L.A. was extremely dangerous. I could reveal numerous hair-raising stories that I had in L.A., but I'll get to the stabbing.

I carried a switchblade in my right boot. Never thought I'd need it, but it accompanied me.

By the way, switchblades were illegal in L.A. County and still, I think, everywhere in California.

I bought mine in Mexico. It was easy to bring illegal stuff across the border back then. I brought fireworks and.......huh, other things....

Couldn't do that nowadays.

So, I resume my fascinating story - - -

It was very late one night when I happened to be walking around downtown Los Angeles. You're risking your life doing that. No lie.

The main library downtown is on Fifth Street. It was closed that late night. Coming from Sixth Street, I made a HUGE mistake by taking a short cut through the library property.

Dark. Deserted. Dangerous.....

Here's a daylight picture of the library. Imagine it after midnight....

I wasn't expecting anything. I was walking quickly, and

Suddenly

a guy came out of the shadows. A small, heavyset Latino....pulled a gun, demanded money....my wallet.

The shock almost killed me. I wasn't prepared. But I acted extremely quickly. Pretended to reach for my wallet.....reached in my boot.

The switchblade was ready for action - - - I slashed his gun-toting hand. Not enough for a serious wound, but enough for the gun to fumble. Was it a real gun? Don't know.

I ran like a bat out of hell, ran faster than I ever knew I could go. ZigZagged somewhere, here there, wound up on Main Street. Still clutching the switchblade. Wiped it off....on my jeans.

Holy Sheee-it!!!!

Was I a criminal? Was it all real? Was the mugger okay? It was only a superficial wound. Probably a neat scratch.....

Truth to tell, I am vehemently against violence. I'm anti-war, I abhore hunting. Hate fighting.

BUT

I ain't no sissy, boys and girls. I'll protect my sweet ass if I have to.

The little Taco Mugger certainly survived, probably with a neat scratch....but maybe he learned a lesson.

TACO?? Hell, I ain't no racist. I just use....colorful phrases....to impress you.

Moral of the story?

Beware of knife-toting Gringos near libraries after midnight. That's me.

So.....where else can you find true fascinating free entertainment like this?? Maybe in the public library.

And in my memoirs, when they're published.

Jon 💚  entertaining and cute

P.S.

I suspect the mugger had been following me before I got to the library....who knows....