I was just wandering the labyrinthine halls of the Westchester County Mall looking for a USB cable so i can attach my new printer/scanner/copier to my computer. It's a very unremarkable mall, not very big or very unique, if such an adjective can be applied when speaking about a mall. I was a bit annoyed because i had walked for several city blocks looking for an electronics place and had only encountered mediocre clothing store after mediocre clothing store. like a vast sea of crap i would never consider wearing.
then i passed a small sports wear store. a very small place that had all of it's walls covered with hats up to the ceiling. i don't wear baseball caps anymore and i certainly don't follow sports. but instantly i knew the place. it was like i snapped back 20 years in a flash. its the place that my friends and i used to drive up to for the every now and then Westchester bargain raid for a hat. My high school was in the Bronx and this mall was the newest and closest mall to the school. it was a good place for the allowance laden kids with a friend in ownership of a car. it was also a fun way to spend an hour and kick it far from the usual adult supervision. it was clean, almost exotic to city kids, and it was safe.
Or so we thought. we found out that even buying a hat in the suburbs can result in injury and assault.
realizing the old school connection i had with this mall was surprising since i have been in it a lot lately. i work right around the corner and just assumed that the mall was new and i had never been there before. recognizing the store reminded me of the day i went there and bought a Mets cap in 1989. I liked the Mets only because my mom is a big fan and i was riveted by the 86 world series. my parents had just divorced and watching my mom go crazy over this team was a welcomed event in my apartment. plus it was a great series, even for somebody who gets bored watching baseball.
i remember buying the hat with my friends, they each bought hats for themselves, each having one weird reason or another to have picked the team they chose. we were having a great time, just joking around, totally free and relaxed. i remember noticing a bunch of kids at the food court, looking all the same. dressed as if they were part of the group, New Kids On the Block. with mullets and tails, acid wash from head to toe. they were suburban kids. like rubber stamp clones of whatever MTV was spinning at 8pm. back when MTV spun music videos that is. i guess you can say these guys were a homogeneous bunch, much like today's O.C. kids. except they were most likely middle to lower class rather then the Range Rover driving kids of the O.C.
I think we noticed that they were staring, but i remember joking about how they had never seen "foreigners" before and then losing interest. after all, we were in the middle of nowhere, and people didn't seem very dangerous. i guess we underestimated the effects of boredom.
we walked around a little more, and then decided it was time to get back to the city. so we headed to the parking area. i was busy putting a bend in my brim so i kind of slacked behind a bit. my friends were probably 200 feet ahead of me as we approached the car in the lot. it was one of the only ones out there because it wasn't a very busy day at the mall. i put my hat on and yelled "yo, wait up!".
my friend Zar turned around and started to say something, when his expression got serious looking and he yelled "watch out!". i think i heard "crotch scout!" or something that didn't convey the right meaning, because i didn't actually watch out.
the next thing i knew, there was a sudden heavy pressure on the back of my head. my hat flipped off my head and flew through the air for like 10 feet. my semi long hair splayed out and ended up in my face. i had just been punched by somebody.
i spun around with fists already up. only i was facing a 4 foot fat guy. he yelled "what you think you tough?!" he was looking very proud of himself and i was already considering which of his teeth i was going to knock out. i had settled on the front top two, when i noticed over his head, what appeared to be dozens of bobbing mullets and baseball caps heading my way. it was the gang of N.K.O.T.B kids bearing down on me. i got it, this little shit was with them. he had gone against physics and hit me with the assumption that his friends would even out the size difference.
only somehow he had really gotten out in front of them. like by another 200 feet. it was as if he had personally been the most offended by our presence and needed the most out of all of them to exact his vengeance. i realized that i had an opportunity to vent my anger. i new that my friends were at the car. i knew that either way, they had to start the car. i also knew that if i turned to pick up my hat and run, this guy would get another shot at me.
so i punched him good. to my satisfaction, my punch had the same effect on his hat as his had had on mine. only my punch was to his face, rather then the back of the head. i am pretty much positive that he hadn't figured that would happen. maybe these guys were used to being the cock of the walk. maybe they were the top of the food chain in White Plains. maybe he was something of a Napoleon Bonaparte of his parts. well, now he was Tucan Sam with a big parrot nose that was nice and red.
but that sealed the deal. we had to get the "F" out of "D", at a high rate of velocity. i spun back around and barreled at the car as fast as i could run, not forgetting to scoop up my prized cap off the ground. we were clearly outnumbered and it was a do or die escape situation. my friends had managed to get in and the only door that was open was the back passenger door and my friends were all wide eyed and yelling "RUN!!". i didn't even want to look back to see if Donny, or one of those mullet mofos was gaining on me.
i remember diving into the car and looking up at the car roof and yelling "Hit it!". my friend Ruxpin, the guy driving hit the gas and peeled out. i pulled my legs in just as the door slammed shut from inertia. we had made it. i sat up while we were deep in a turn and caught the tail end of about 20 knuckle heads running at top speed and slowly giving up as we sped away. it was a huge relief to see them get smaller in the rear window. we were now free to go back to where we could feel safe again. the Bronx.
it was at this point in my reminiscing that i perked up, and gave the place a quick check for Mullet haircuts. they could still be around.
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