Hip hop night. Closing time. Knuckleheads who couldn’t get into the club loitered across the street. Punks without a post-club coital date turned into parking lot pimps. Idiots drunk, high or a combination of both. Dumbfucks with guns.
I stood my post at the front door. Tense. Anticipating.
Yelling and cursing in the parking lot across the street. Posturing. Two idiots “motherfucking” each other. Three gunshots silenced one motherfucker. The crowd scattered like cockroaches. Cars spilled out of the parking lot, sped towards the freeway.
One Jeep Cherokee remained in the lot, passenger door wide open, crimson puddle underneath. Groaning from inside the car.
I approached the car. A fat black man in the passenger seat bled, arm hanging limp by his side. Blood trickled from his seat, slowly made its way to the growing blood pool on the ground. I asked: “Where’d you get hit?”
“Yo man, nigga shot me in the motherfucking ass!”
I bit my tongue, tried not to laugh.