In 1998, after a gig at the Red Sea just off of Cedar and Riverside, I was carrying my stuff back to my car. It was about 1:30 in the morning.
At the time, you could either pay to park behind the bar, or you could do what I always did and park for free a few blocks away in the park building lot behind all those apartments.
As I was walking back to the lot on the dim-lit street, a few of the local residents must have looked at me and imagined a big $100 bill carrying saxophones down the street, because as I was walking, these two guys got up behind me and started following me.
I don't know about you, but two against one carrying a bunch of stuff doesn't compute in my mind. So I did what any stupid white boy would do in that situation: act stupid.
I turned around and noticed that the bigger of the two guys was limping. I innocently asked, "Are you all right?"
The other guy said, "They jumped my boy." He told me how cut up and bruised his "boy" was, but honestly, I didn't see one mark. But I told them that that wasn't too cool and they should see a doctor. I kept walking to the only little red Honda Civic wagon in the dimly lit parking lot.
One guy circled to the right, and the other to the left. When I got to my car, there they were. What could I do?
One guy was standing against the driver's side door, and the other kept behind me. So I said, "You know, guys, that really does looks bad. You should get that looked at."
The guy who wasn't hurt got right up to me and said they needed money for a cab. "Good idea!" I said, "I can help you guys. Just let me put this stuff down." I put my horns in the back, closed the door, and said, "I've got at least $10 in my car. You can have it. I really think you should see somebody about that."
I got the idea that they might not be buying my line because the "hurt" guy was still standing in front of my door. So I decided a new tactic might be in order. "Hey, you know I just took a CPR class in school. Why don't I take a look at that arm you're holding. Maybe we can do something to help right now." I motioned toward his arm, but he shrugged me away and stepped aside. "OK," I said, "It's your arm. Let me grab you guys some money so you can get that taken care of. There's at least 10 or 15 bucks in here you can have."
So I opened my driver's side door and made it look like I was searching under some papers, but then got in and closed the door and locked it. They banged on the windows, but I started the car and pulled out of the spot. As I drove away, I rolled down my window and said, "Sorry, dudes."
Of course I'll never know if I talked my way out of an ass-kicking, or if they were just stupid. But hopefully they got the "help" they were seeking. I mean, $15 is a nice-sized dime bag. That would have taken care of both of their problems, right?
