So I was in the city minding my own business getting my quarterly payroll done by my accountant. I parked my Vette in one of those $20/all day type lots only because I was pressed for time. Mind you I was about 4 blocks from where I should be but hey, what the fuck.
The black boy at the lot took my money no problems. In hindsight I remember him being overly smiley and possibly picking up his cell phone and making a call although much of that is a little blurry. Anyhow...
I got a block and a half away and this dark brother comes out from an alley (right before I got there) and asks me if I smoke. Well of course I do, I have a Camel hanging from my lip. He asks me if I am looking for some Marlboros in the box. Apparently he has a shitload, and can tell that me in my Armani and his monkey son at the car lot that I have the dough... at least I can get it.
I tell this boo that I have no interest in his bullshit smokes and that I have a place that I need to be. He sees me carrying my briefcase and most likely thinks I am some kike diamond merchant and pulls out asome piece of shit nickel plated .22 from God knows where.
I hit the deck, slapped open my Samsonit, grabbed my Glock .44 and popped a cap between that Neanderthal's eyes from about 4 feet. His buddy ran, I collected my self, brushed off my suit and continued on to my accountants offie (sweating all the way and back).
No red and blues, no nothing. Fuck the monkey.
