To preface this, I’ve still managed to never have been in a fight. I’ve come close a few times, but never has anyone’s fist hit my face, stomach, or any other part of my body, other than my arm/shoulder/thigh.
It was the middle of June, and it was hot. My church was having their annual “Fiesta Mexicana” and the whole (neighbor)hood was out having a great time enjoying carnival. That year, there were actual rides like the scrambler, the spinning apples (barf), the paratrooper, the gravitron(?), and your basic kiddie rides.
My cousin Rudy and I were hanging out going on ride after ride, being the hotshots we were. Rudy was a little more rough around the edges than myself, and though we both went to catholic school, Rudy was more experienced in the ways of the streets. This made our run in with some ruffians far more likely than not.
In the midst of our running around, there were two other boys around the same age who passed us by. I couldn’t tell you what set them off, but they immediately tried to start something.
My cousin, who I assumed had been in fights before, started talking back.
“What’s good? You don’t want none!”
I heard one of the kids answer back, “I ain’t no bitch!” And continued walking to opposite way.
I thought to myself, “Oh snap! It’s like that!?”
Rudy and I continued on. He looked at me as we walked side by side through the crowd, and assured me that we could take them because they “weren’t shit”. What Rudy failed to realize was that, I, at the age of 11 had never even been close to fighting anyone.
But there we were, about to throw down with two kids a little more street savvy than both of us put together.
The afternoon went on, and we continued to have our run-ins with those two hoodlums. Both parties shouting obscenities back and forth, until finally things actually got heated. As we made another lap around the parking lot, we passed by the pair again. One of the boys put his shoulder into Rudy, and Rudy shove him back.
I looked at the other kid “like square up” and he actually did. I got scared, and starting moving backwards. Rudy, who was much tougher than me, started moving the same direction. We turned and ran, and they ran but in the opposite direction in order to cut us off.
I saw them as we got to the back end of the parking lot, and I put my arm out to clothes line one of them. Needless to say it didn’t work, as I hurt myself more than the other kid.
We continued running, and I noticed that the line for the paratrooper ride was nonexistent. I motioned to Rudy to head towards the ride. Veering off towards the ride, we got in line.
After we had gotten on the ride, and it started up, the two kids we were trying to avoid were there waiting for us. As we went around and up, I saw one of them standing along the fence. Coming back down, he flipped us the bird. I looked at Rudy, and just as I was about to ask him what we were gonna do after we got off, I threw up.
Motion sickness had gotten to me, and I revisited the two walking tacos that I had eaten a mere 2 hours prior.
The other two kids, grossed out, walked away. Because, well, nobody wants to fight the kid that just puked on himself.