Hello, WORLD!! Still here. Haven't been blogging as much as I usually have. I know, I know. I keep saying I'm going to post more but yeah, I don't. Sorry. I'll get better. Maybe. Or not. Who knows? Anyway, I've been holding off posting about this incident for a week. I might as well get it over with.
This funny thing from the blog's title happened exactly a week ago, around 1AM. I was heading home from the Egg, the nickname of my old block on 75th and Eggleston, drunk as Esther's husband Woodrow (I got a no-prize for the first person who can name the TV show these characters come from.) when I hit Halsted and started heading toward 71st street. I walked down to about 73rd or 72nd and Halsted and that's when I first heard the shots then the screams. If you know anything about me, you know I'm bout as blind as a bat and as I stated, I was very intoxicated. Maybe, had I been sober, I probably would've stopped walking and try to make sure I wasn't the intended target. Maybe. Needless to say, I didn't even try to figure out where the scream and the shots came from.
I just kept walking.
As soon as I got 71st and Halsted, the shots started again, louder this time. A somewhat beige looking four door car bends the corner by the gas station, some guy hanging out the window on the passenger side. Then I hear people yelling. Me? I'm knowing whatever is happening ain't got nothing to do with my drunk ass so I just kept going. Then I felt something hit me in the chest once then I felt more of whatever it was hit me in my chest and my arm. Still walking, never stopped walking actually, I look down in time to see some square shaped things bounce off of my chest. I have no idea what they were but I was just glad they weren't real bullets. I waved it off like no harm no foul after checking myself and making sure I wasn't bleeding for real. I laughed it off and continued on my way home while several people who were outside near the gas station on 71st and Halsted were on the phone I'm presuming with the police. I did indeed hear sirens getting louder at that point.
See, it didn't really dawn on me what had happened until the next day. It hit me while I was a t my desk at work. Hey dumb ass, do you remember when you got shot yesterday? OK, so it wasn't a real gun. I'm more than sure it wasn't even a BB gun. Those weren't pellets I was getting hit with. They felt too soft. But I was shot and hit with something. This time, I'm cool. Still alive and kicking.
Am I still walking home that late? Yeah. I know I need to be more careful. I know this. And I know I need to take this for what it's worth, like what if this was some type of warning? What if this was some kind of sign that maybe I need to get home a little earlier or maybe I should simply be on some home and work and that's it type of routine? That would be the safest thing to do in Chicago but that's not living, is it? I shouldn't have to fear for my safety just because I'm not indoors but that's how Chicago is these days, isn't it?
The thing that I'm getting the most from the whole thing is maybe it's time to close the book on Chicago as my home. I've had a week to think about it and I got to admit, the idea of leaving Chicago is sounding more and more like my next move. Probably the first major move I make in 2016.
Later, WORLD. Hopefully.
Smokkee (@MrGBIZ)
