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I was walking down the street and I felt incredibly thirsty. Noticing a bar, I decided to stop in and get a Coke.
The bar was situated so that there was a front door, (the one through which I came), and a back door, which opened on to an area which was not a street, but more like an arcade, with shops, restaurants, etc.
The bar itself was in the center of the establishment, but not circular or rectangular. It was more of a right angle shape, like an L with both sides of the same length. The view across on one side was blocked by one of those silver containers or refrigerators, and maybe also by a regular domestic looking refrigerator.
I asked the bartender, a young man, probably in his mid- to late- twenties, for a small Coke. As if to warn me, he held up a "small" size glass; it probably only held about four ounces. I knew that I didn't have much money, so I stuck with the small.
The bartender opened one of the refrigerators and took out a plastic
half-gallon jug containing a light brown colored liquid that appeared to be watered down Coke. He took a sip himself to make sure that it was the Coke; then, he poured me a small glass. I asked how much it was, and he told me it was 35 cents. I put a couple of quarters and some more change on the bar - probably a dime and a nickel. The bartender, seeing how thirsty I was, actually let me have a little more Coke for free.
I left the bar through the same door, and continued down the street. I turned left at the next street, and noticed that there was a black guy dressed in a blue windbreaker, who may or may not have been following me. I started to walk a little faster, and I began to hear a commotion coming from somewhere. By this time I was pretty sure that the guy in the windbreaker was following me, so I started to jog away, making a right turn at the next corner.
Soon I saw what the noise I had heard was. Up ahead, to the right, there was a group of black youths trying to pull a young woman down into a man hole. The woman was also black. She was pretty, and was dressed quite nicely, wearing a summer type dress. She was struggling against the gang of youths and screaming for help.
Now, in the other direction came two people. One was an older man, probably in his sixties, but possibly younger and just street-worn. He had the look of someone who was pretty close to, but not quite, a bum. He had an expression on his face that indicated that the scene with the gang and the girl was something commonplace. There was even the hint of a smile on his face. The other person was a young black man, who didn't at all look like the other gang type. He was running as if he were scared, and wanted to get away.
At this point, I decided I had better get the hell out of there. I turned around and started to run back the way I had come. I found myself alongside the young black kid who had been running. When we turned the corner, we saw the guy with the windbreaker, and we both figured that he was some sort of lookout for the gang that was attacking the girl.
We ran past the street that the bar was on, then along some walkway that was on private property. Shortly, we came to a main street. Across the street was a long brick, or cinder-block wall, on the other side of which was a type of mall. This mall was more like a swap meet, with booths and tents, etc.
While still on the other side of the street, we were trying to figure out whether it would be better to enter the mall on the left or the right. We both recalled that there was a commercial in which Carroll O'Connor said a little rhyme telling what the best way to go was; but he remembered the rhyme indicating that one should go to the left, while I remembered it saying the right. We decided to go to the right.
We crossed the street, angling to the right, then went along the brick wall until we got to the end. Then we went around the wall, into the mall area, and entered the first tent. This turned out to be where they published a type of newsletter for the mall. All ofthe people working there were young women. Most of them were Mexicans or Asians. Almost all of them looked pretty good. There was one white girl, a blonde with a Lady Di type haircut. She was not as pretty as the other girls. Her complexion was not real nice. I started to talk to her, however, and she turned out to be real nice. We hit it off rather well.
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