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I got acquainted with Stan at XXX Adults Only!!! University in the fall of �90. We had just finished our first class for the semester and as I slowly walked outside, I saw Stan chilling out in the gorgeous August sun smoking a cigarette.�� I just nodded to him, when he said �Hey, dude; are you taking Architecture 1o1 class too? Do you know which building it is in?�� I replied that it was in the Stimson building and was going down there myself. So we started chatting together and walked down to the class.
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That Thursday, we were just walking along after finishing up a class (our eyes cheerfully checking out the girls going to their respective classes J), when I said to him � �Boy, wonder where all these good looking girls hang out?�� �Well Dude, we will have to find out!� Stan said with a smile. �Hey, want to get a soda?�.�� So we went and got a soda and soon we were talking about Drifel U., the places we grew up in, and the schools we had gone to.�
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We then proceeded to check out the game room at the Student�s center. The game room was filled mostly with freshmen hanging out doing the arcade game thing.� A couple of students shot pool at the pool tables while yet another few were having fun at the bowling alley. Further down from the game room on the right, was the college radio station. With the beginning of a new academic year, there was an air of expectancy all around. New students tried to get adjusted to the new surroundings while trying to make friends; while those who had been there for a semester or more, went about their daily business in a nonchalant manner.� Stan and I decided to shoot a game of pool and enjoyed it thoroughly, though each thought that one was better than the other.
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Stan was a huge, strongly built dude with long black hair that stretched way down beyond his shoulders. He claimed that he had played a lot of sports while in school but that he hardly found any time for it nowadays. He often greeted me by saying� �Hey, dude� .� Slowly, in turn after some time, I started referring to him jokingly as the �the Big dude�.� We both liked to take breaks from our studies by above all hanging out on Friday nights.� Drinking beer and checking out the girls at one of the watering holes around University City was our favorite style of hanging out.
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After hanging out for a couple of weeks at one of the nearby college joints; we decided to do something different by checking out the city bars. So we decided to meet up at my place that Friday night and then later go out drinking.� I was living then around 49th and Q Street. The general impression was that the area where I lived was a quiet and peaceful neighborhood; though a couple of streets down, there were places that seemed rundown.�� But then I never did get the time to explore the vicinity around where I lived.
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On Friday, we met up at my place around 7.00 pm.� I decided, on our way out, to stop by at an ATM to get some money.� After I took some money out, I called out to Stan (who was standing back smoking a cigarette)�� �Yo, Big Dude!� Let�s go hit the city!�.
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Without warning, I suddenly saw a guy come up to me and say � what�the�� f%@##� %### did you call me?� I stood there, all confused.� Stan rushed up and said �Dude, Its ok! He was calling me.� Sorry, about �it�.��� Its cool �man� ��. �.ok?��� and we quickly walked down the street.
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I felt a lump in my throat.� The guy was stoned and I could see that his eyeballs were nearly popping out in a senseless gaze.� We walked hurriedly down to Market Street to take the campus shuttle to the university, where we were to meet up with our friend.
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With furtive glances behind us, we walked quickly down the couple of blocks towards the corner of 49th and Market Street. The area was poorly lit and I had never been down that way before at this time of the night. The place looked all deserted and there was an eerie feel and appearance all around the place.
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As we stood waiting for the campus shuttle, suddenly we noticed a couple of guys walking down in the general direction towards us. There must have been about 8�10 of them. They then just stopped across the street and stood and watched us.�
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The corner of 49th and Market was very inadequately lit. There were graffiti scribbled all over the walls. A nearby empty parking lot looked dilapidated and littered with junk. Close by, ran an overhead section of the subway trains that ran into the city. The whole area looked as if it was in the midst of decay and much like a derelict section of an old American city.
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Behind the shuttle stop where we stood, was a Chinese take out place. It seemed like that it had been years since it had seen a coat of paint.� The walls were scribbled with graffiti and the windows were all barricaded up. It seemed it was the only shop open around at this time of the night. The area was dimly lit and the streetlight at the corner did not work.
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The group members (I assumed they could even be part of some gang) were staring and gesturing in the general direction towards us.� On seeing this, Stan said, �Man, I don�t know what the deal is; but it looks like they must be some kids after our money. It has happened to me before. Now, if they come over and ask for the cash, just hand it over, OK?�
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I just nodded. I could feel a wave of nausea all over. My mind was whirling away trying to figure out what was happening.� I was not at all pleased at the prosp[1]ect of handing over my money, as that would mean being out of spending money for the whole month. And what would happen to my wallet and its contents?
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We walked slowly down the street away from the gang and away from the bus stop (which was also the stop for the shuttle).� After walking a couple of meters, I stopped. I was not all pleased at the direction where we were heading. There was no street lighting down that side of the road, and everything looked even more desolate and gloomier.�
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Back we treaded softly to the bus stop.� As we waited and watched; I slowly sensed the gang grouping up and trying to decide what to do.� Suddenly, a thought raced through my mind �What if I could pretend that I had a gun?� I took off my jacket and hung it over the top of my shoulder. As the group slowly started moving towards us, I slowly put my hand into the inner pocket of the jacket, trying to give the impression that I could possibly be concealing a gun.
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The group walked up towards us, one or two members stared menacingly at us, and then started moving away to the side. Then a couple of members slowly started to move in a sinister manner towards us. One of the members seemed to be the guy who had accosted us some time earlier. On seeing this, I felt a wave of panic slowly come over me. We waited a couple of minutes doing nothing but just standing motionless.� I still kept my right hand on the inside breast pocket of my jacket, while trying my best to appear cool and calm.� Gradually collecting my wits, I told Stan that he would have to watch our backs while I took care of the front.� Hopefully, this would prevent them from becoming too eager to jump on us.
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After a few tense moments, not being at all happy at the developing situation, I decided to try my chances inside the Chinese take-out rather than outside on the streets. I walked slowly inside with Stan following behind me.� A tired, weary-eyed oriental man peered out behind grilled windows.� The front of the counter was all grilled up such that there was just an opening for the person behind the counter to take money and pass the food out.� The place was decently lit inside but a shade too gloomy, and stark naked of any kind of furniture.
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We stood inside and waited to catch our breaths. Soon, some members of the gang outside followed us into the Chinese take-out. They stood around while just talking among themselves. I frantically looked around for a way to escape out of the present situation.
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The Asian man behind the counter looked at me anxiously. He could sense that something was going on but was not sure what it was. I thought the best avenue of escape would be to try to get to a telephone for help. I asked him if he had a phone I could use. He pointed to the outside, gesturing towards the location of a public phone.
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I decided that I would have to try to make my way slowly out and attempt to use the phone.� As I looked out towards the door, I caught my breath on seeing the gang member who had originally accosted me standing right in front of the door, straddling the entrance. Reminding myself to avoid direct eye contact and yet not look cowardly downwards, I proceeded to walk towards the door, all the while looking blankly at some object at some infinite distance. The gang member stood his ground and did not move an inch. As I reached towards the door, I managed to walk past him without touching him, only to catch the glimpse of a cocky smile, stoned eyes, and the look of supreme contempt of a person to one and all around him.
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I calmly walked up to the public phone.�� I reached out and picked up the receiver, only to see that the telephone cord had been cut. Curse my luck! What could I do now?
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Despondently, I slowly walked up to Stan, who had by now managed to walk outside, and explained to him about the phone.� I looked back towards the Chinese take-out and saw that most of the gang members had moved away from the Chinese take-out place and back onto the street. I walked gingerly back to the take-out and asked in a hoarse whisper if there was another phone I could use, as the phone outside was not working. The man shook his head in the negative. Feeling claustrophobic and not wanting to be caught inside the take-out joint again with the gang members; I walked quickly outside and joined up with Stan who was chain-smoking furiously away.
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The Asian man at the take-out soon afterwards slowly walked outside, walked up to the phone to find out for himself what the problem was all about. On seeing the cut telephone cord; he shook his head and walked back quickly to take his place behind the barred take-out counter.
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I waited anxiously with Stan for whatever would happen next. I was anxiously meditating on what had brought me to this place on Earth! Soon afterwards, a ray of hope appeared when a police car drove up. I wanted desperately to wave out and try to make it stop. Trying to remain calm as much as possible, I tried to take a few steps in the general direction of the police vehicle. However, the police vehicle just drove by and was soon out of sight.
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As I saw the police car fade away out of our view; a sense of dejection swept all over me. I resignedly waited for whatever was to happen next. The whole place seemed eerily quiet. The half moon too had disappeared into the clouds.
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After a few minutes (which seemed like eternity), we suddenly saw the campus shuttle approaching the stop. Quickly, Stan and I ran up to the shuttle and hastily jumped aboard. A sense of relief swept all over us as we slowly pulled away from the shuttle stop.
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That night, all we did was to talk about what had happened to us. I personally thought that I could have been dead by now.� We all drank and drank and tried to steal solace from our friendships. As the night slowly died, we finally took cabs back to our houses. We had survived another night in the city of brotherly love.
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