Brave (or Stupid)

This isn’t an entry about the movie. I haven’t seen the movie and for some reason, I don’t have an urge to.

This is about me verbally kicking two perverts asses.

Tuesday night. The night before July 4th. All of Stamford–as all across the USA, I’m sure–is half drunk on their asses. I’m not. After a few rounds of our favourite board game, Jamie and I become frosty towards each other. Both of us pissed about one thing or another. He walks out without me noticing. This is after 10 pm.

When I realised that he was missing, I make the stupid decision to go out looking for him. We live in the scummy, beach-side of Stamford.

Long story short, two guys on bicycles followed me from the beach all the way across the park. At first they were sneaky about it, hiding amongst the bushes and trailing me at a distance. Being an avid Sherlock Holmes fan as a child, I was used to noticing strange things about my surroundings. I knew how long they’d been following me. So I quietly make my way towards the more populated main street.

Once on a main street, the boys catch up to me. I heard one of them break behind me as to keep the same speed that I am walking at. This was when I stopped, turned around, and said, “Stop following me.”

Out of the two, only one of them spoke. He was wearing a dark red t-shirt. “Baby, why would you say that? We’re not following you.”

“Yes, you are. And I would like you to stop.”

Red shirt’s buddy, black shirt, made kissy faces at me. “If you don’t stop following me, I’m calling the police.” An empty threat, as I had left my cell phone on the book shelf at home.

“C’mon. We’re just going home.”

“Then go on ahead.”

“Why you so mad, baby? Why you accuse us of such things?”

“I apologize. Now please be on your way. I say again: I will call the police.”

Red shirt shrugged. “Go ahead. Call them.” Either he has very good eyes and has already deduced that I couldn’t have been hiding a phone under my skirt or tank top (a bad choice of clothing), or he was fairly confident that the Stamford police would be much too busy that night with all the pre-July 4th shenanigans.

I crossed my arms, assumed what I hoped to be a threatening pose. “Where is your home?” When he didn’t answer, I pointed in the direction that I had been walking towards. “Is it that way?”

“C’mon… hang out with us for a bit…”

“I’m going to go this way,” I point in the direction we just came from. “And you are going to go on ‘home’ in the other direction. If I find you following me, I am going to kill you.” I took a gamble, hoping they were stupid enough to buy my threat. For all they know, I could be a kung fu master. I am Chinese, after all.

Still, I didn’t wait for a response. I turned my back on them and started walking back the way they followed me from. I turned around a couple of times to make sure they were doing as I said. The black shirt made one last kissy face and the two of them turned towards the direction I ordered them to go and they were off. As soon as I saw that they weren’t watching, I ducked into the bushes, hidden. I knew they had already watched me before, and so I was going to make sure they couldn’t watch me again.

I waited until I saw them stop at a stop light, far enough from where I was for them to see me even if I emerged, then I bolted in the direction towards home. I cut across the field that Jamie told me never to cross at night, there were a small grove of trees here that the homeless guys had taken to sleeping under. Still. I’d rather risk pissing off some homeless guys than heading up the street where the two scumbags could jeer at me some more.

I ran diagonally across the grassy field, then made a huge arc to the right in order to avoid the homeless grove. In less than a minute, I was on our street. Our quiet, relatively private street. I’d made it home.

It’s Thursday today, and I’m thinking back on those events. Things could have gone a lot differently. The guys could have called my bluff and kicked my ass. They could have easily done a lot worse than just jeer and harass. I’m ashamed as well to say that I gave them a lot of opportunities to do so: at one point I had cut across the darkened empty field from the beach to the street. They had followed me through there and if they had wished it, they could have hindered me in the field and no one else would have seen it.

As for my bluff (I don’t know kung fu. And I doubt I could kill anyone), all I have to say for myself is that I’m lucky I have a great poker face.

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