Good call

Something weird was in the air this summer...
something that made guys fight... a lot.
I blame the cartel wars.
Dudes try to put up a brave front... when in real life, they're pissing their pants just like the rest of us.

This year, I witnessed three fights... and all three where out of the blue.

Two fights occurred at the park. Both times, they were over "bad calls" which I made... hahahaha! I'm horrible. But hey, they WEREN'T bad calls!
Anyway, the fights would leave me sad, oddly enough... because you can tell these kids don't want to fight... it just happens. There's this really sad... shame on their face, especially from the innocent party. They want to cry, but they'd be ridiculed for it... ugh, it makes me sad thinking about it.

Then there was the third fight.
That shit was GOOD.
I say that now, now that I know the whole story. At the time of the problem, I almost had a heart attack, I almost pissed my pants, and I couldn't control my legs.

Let me start with the basics:
I live two houses away from the town Cantinas.
I've never been scared of being home alone, but this day I had been alone since 6 PM and it was already 10:30 PM.

I hear faint voices arguing... the voices get closer.
Should I turn off the lights and go to bed... or sit here and listen? Ah, fuck it, I'll let them fight.

No me hables asi, cabron!!

Vete a la chingada!
Hmm... they don't sound familiar...
I hear the two guys run down the street, and stop in front of my house.
It's pitch black outside, I can't see shit.
I hear punches... then someone getting kicked... all kicks now... a beer bottle breaks!
They scream into my door, at the top of his lungs:
ME ESTAN MATANDO!!!!
FUCK!!!! WHAT DO I DO?! Someone's getting killed!

CALLATE, HIJO DE TU CHINGADA MADRE!

Oh my God, oh my God!! WHY AM I ALONE RIGHT NOW?! What do I do?!
So I did what any normal person would do: in one swift motion, I turned off the living room light, then the television, and I ran into the bedroom with the thickest walls. I stood away from the door, in case a stray bullet came in... duh!
(Last year a similar fight had ended in an AK47 being shot... and I can't even begin to describe the horror I felt then... I was hoping the story didn't repeat itself this time around)
I sat there, my legs shaking to the point where I had to kneel on the floor, listening to the sound of a guy getting the shit beaten out of him.

After about two minutes the sound stopped, and I heard one person limp away... then I heard someone SWEEPING in front of my house.
Jesus Christ, they're getting rid of the evidence... please don't knock on my door... please don't knock on my door...
I sat in dark silence for ten more minutes, until Mom showed up, and I screamed at her.
WTF MOM? WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU?!
I was... what the hell is wrong with you? What happened?
Was there blood outside?
I don't know... I couldn't see...

So I went off and told her what I heard.

The next morning I saw one of the guys involved.
How did I know it was him? His foot was bandaged up and his face was swollen... along with his hands and arms.
I asked around to see who else was fucked up, and it turned out it was my sister's ex who had gotten into a fight with one of my neighbors. My neighbor had called him a fag and all these other derogatory terms, and when Sister's Ex finally had enough, he started beating his ass.
Well, then Neighbor threw a bottle at him and wound up cutting him in the foot... which sparked Sister's Ex's ire and that was the ass beating I heard.
Sounds stupid, now that I know the complete story... but at the time of the beating, I was scared shitless (I dare anyone NOT to be, if placed in my situation: not knowing who's fighting... and considering Zetas are running around doing shit like "La Corbata" to their victims. What's "La Corbata?" "The tie," where they slit your throat and pull your tongue through the slit as you sit there freaking the fuck until you bleed out. Fun shit, right?).

And that, ladies and gentlemen, made me realize: I'm glad I'm not a dude... I'd be so gay.
(That, and my staring problem when it comes to dudes with nice smiles would out me. Speaking of liking dudes, trip to Mexico was a bust as far as "not bugging Darcy" goes. Well, I didn't bug while in Mexico... but... ha... I'm weak, ok? He asked a simple question, and like always, I ran at the mouth... probably a little weird to him... I'm sure he has to think "What the hell is wrong with her?" at some point, but I can't help it)