September 15, 2005

Happy Birthday, Gimme Your Money

We met my daughter last night to celebrate her 19th birthday. She was in a great mood, happy and content. She chose the restaurant, opened her presents and we all had a great time. She is over her home sickness, has met some new friends, and likes every one of her classes.

On the way home she went through downtown Indianapolis. To get to her destination she has to exit on Martin Luther King Street. She usually does not go this way and she was lost. She noticed an open gas station and pulled into the left turn lane so she could go in and get directions. Just as she started to turn a motorcycle appeard her left side and she hit the rider.

She jumped out see if he was Ok, He told her he was unhurt and asked "How you gonna fix this bike, beeitch?" She told him she had insurance she would get the information from the car. He said he did not want to mess with insurance, but she better fix it. She told him she would call her Dad. The biker replied "I done wanna talk to your Dad, I want some cash. Gimme all you cash, now you bitch."

My daughter told him she did not have any cash, He told her to forget it jumped on his bike and took off. In the meantime a group had formed around her car, and the young black males began to yell at her that she hit a brother; they would tell the cops what happened unless she gave them her money. The called her a white bitch.

Hysterical, she jumped in her car and drove off. She got lost several times, but finally made it back to campus. She reported the incident to campus police, who shrugged it off. They agreed with me, it sounded like a scam. She is fine. Her car, at least last night, appears undamaged, she reports.

My daughter is one of those people that always sees the best in people. She was elected student body president in high school precisely because she was friendly to everyone. I might put down a student as trash, she would always reply, "But he is Ok once you get to know him." Sadly, now she has lost her innocence the hard way. The admonitions of her father to always be aware of your surroundings, trust no one, now hit home. She now believes me when I tell her to not drink the punch at a fraternity party, to never drink anything she did not open and mix. She was not raised as a racist, but now I am not so sure.

You see, her real problem with the incident is that a black IPD officer watched the whole thing. He did nothing but walk to his car and drive away. Now she does not even trust the police to help her.

Happy birthday, my little girl.

3 comments:

GUYK said...

The problem is that punks are punks and thugs are thugs no matter what color they are. But it seems that their is a bigger percentage of young black people that are punks and thugs than young white people. And when tis is pointed out one is automatically branded a racist.

Galt-In-Da-Box said...

Welcome to the real world.
Tonga has unfortunatly learned the Bubba lifestyle all-too well: I.E: How to Live Off Others Thoughtlessly (L.O.O.T!). And the pull-peddlers in Washington cater to the weaknesses of the freaking looters at our expense as though it's some kind of virtue!
The more we feed, the more they breed.

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