View Full Version : I met some Indians!

Mota Boy
10-21-2006, 01:03 PM
Yeah, so last night I met some Indians. Real, live Indians. Feather, not dot. I mean, I've met plenty of Asian Indians in my time. Hell, I almost rushed the Indian fraternity at my college. But these were Injuns. Full-blooded, war-whooping, spirit-channelling rain-dancing motherfuckers. You remember, those guys we freakin' steamrolled over in order to build this country. Because they remember, and they are pissed.

Personally, I was having a pretty damn good night. I'd spent the earlier parts of it hanging with a friend I haven't seen in, like, forever, drinking whiskey on the rocks, playing with this adorable puppy he recently purchased (cue "awwwwwws") and watching Eddie Izzard. After I left him and his girlie at midnight approached, I went to pick up another friend of mine who was back after graduating in the spring. We passed through campus, quickly discovered there was nothing to do and took a cab downtown to meet up with friends.

We headed into Lonnie's, which is as famous for its karaoke as it is for its complete disregard for state liquor laws. We swilled cheap domestics from tin buckets and watched hopefuls prance about under the bright lights and belt out country classics for the crowd. Over the next three hours or so we stayed as the tiny bar became packed wall-to-wall and I fully appreciated being in a town where you can get a roomful of strangers to engage in one collective, totally unironic "Yee-haw!" My friend and I headed outside to this bar-stuffed alley to grab a bite from one of the food stands, then stepped a bit out of the way from the main corridor of people to take phone calls. That's when we ran into the Native American fellows.

Real outgoing, too. They exited the bar right in front of us and immediately came up and practically put their arms around us. "Hey," they said by way of introduction. "We're lookin' kick some gringo's ass." Fantastic! I love meeting new people, especially from such diverse backgrounds. After all, Erasmus says, "Your life is enriched by the diversity of the people you meet." I'm all for a bonding experience with my new friends.

"All right, I'm with you." I exclaim. "Let's go kick some gringo ass!" I look over his shoulder at the drunken gringo idiots milling about in front of the bars. Ha! The fools have no idea what's coming. I mean, my friend and I are fairly big guys, 6'1 and 6'2, but these guys have us beat. The outgoing pair are about six feet even, but they're big dudes. I'd guess two-twenty and two-seventy at least. And their mute friend - who's moved around to stand behind us, has to be about six-three or four, with an equally large frame. We're gonna make quite a team!

Unfortunately, it seems my new friend has downed a bit too much of the firewater, as it is, and he misunderstands me. "Are you calling me a gringo?" He says, somehow moving in even closer. "No, no my good man." I reply. "I'm saying that I'm with you. Let's go over there and beat up some gringos!" "Are you calling me a gringo?" I appear to be making little headway.

A foot away, my friend is doing a bit better. Apparently, he tells his new best bud that he completely sympathises with him - that Indians got a shit deal and he understands. He starts to try and talk to my new friend, who is now making repeated, almost rhythmic, entreaties towards me with his stomach. "Are... are you humping me?" "Yeah, what do you want to do about it?" At this point I turn back to his mute companion, to ask for a little help. The big muties just sits back with arms crossed, watching the whole show. I almost imagine a whimsical smile on his lips at the cultural misunderstands in which we're obviously engaged.

"You wanna fight?" "No, not really." "Then walk away." Now here's a peculiar bit. I don't want to fight, but neither am I going to walk away when someone intrudes on my space, horrible atrocities my ancestors perpetrated against theirs or no. "I'm not doing anything." "Then walk away. Just walk away." Eventually, some of the gringos start to realize that, if me and my new pals ever figure this little misunderstanding out, they're about to be in some serious shit, so they start to mill about, at arms length, and say they're about to call in the police. Eventually, the larger, calmer companion takes mine and they begin to weave off into the darkness, only making one final, half-hearted return toddle towards us - their own personal Wounded Knee, if you will - before turning around and stumbling off and vanishing into the urban forest like intoxicated ghosts. Their ancestors would've been proud.

10-21-2006, 01:16 PM
shit, need to read again.

Mota Boy
10-21-2006, 01:18 PM
Ah shit, I just remembered I forgot to include the part where he told me "I want to see your blood." That was pretty memorable too. I've never had an Indian want to be blood brothers with me before.

10-21-2006, 01:19 PM
It is so big! Oh, God, if I read this whole, I will know English as well as I can pass any exams for certificate

10-21-2006, 01:20 PM
Your stories are great. It's such a shame you guys didn't get to pick off any gringos together though.

10-21-2006, 02:19 PM
Guess he really hated the gringos.

Of my past two meetings with Indians I can recall are, once looking for glass jewelry in a city stand. But it was garbage, Izie could get much better supplies from Belgrade or through a chanel in Turkey. And a time before that some drunks begged me for change right as I parked, I tried to explain them I have no change except for the toonie for the parking but the dolt wouldn't listen. He muttered something about scratching the vehicule which got me really angry, the motherfucking is playing so unfair, I was already running in my head the odds of taking him and his friend (jab-straight to the chin would take him out) but ultimately I realized I can't protect my car. 500$ paint job? Not worth it, I parked three streets to the left.


10-21-2006, 02:49 PM
Man, that kinda ruins the whole naive Winnetou image. It was real popular here and kids wanted to be Indians and cowboys. :( Sadly, I've heard of the reality.

10-21-2006, 03:27 PM
Nice story, you should have kicked some gringo ass alone.

No more love for Winnetou.