"Surviving Desperation: Homeless Man's Near-Death Experience in Robbery"

[The night my usual robbery hustle almost costed me my life]

If you have ever lived on the streets or had the unfortunate opportunity of being incarcerated in jail and or prison, chances are, you are certainly quite aware of and familiar with the symptoms, vocabulary and ideology of the"G Code"(Nate Dogg anybody?). For all my Caucasians out there, "G Code" is essentially how one is expected to carry themselves, handle others, navigate the system(s), as well as handle "business", lest they fall victim to consequences, natural or inflicted by others. Essentially that means, 1. Never let anyone disrespect you, 2. Always show others the same amount of respect expected from them, 3. Never back down from a fight and 4. If you catch someone "slipping" teach them a lesson. Again, Caucasians, "slipping" is akin to leaving a kilo of cocaine on the hood of your car while you walk into Baskin Robbins for a waffle cone, expecting no one to help themselves to it(score). Now, any sane rational person can quickly deduct how this so called "G code" is quite contradictory in the sense of expecting others to show you respect, yet you get to steal from them because they made some sort of mental or physical mistake, by omission or commission. Unfortunately, delusion is alive and well in these atmospheres. Nonetheless, this illusion of grandeur abides.

[N. Lamar & N. Loop] stretch of street where I would frequently troll for unsuspecting people to rob.

On this day, I was just short of a year on the streets. I had become well versed in how to navigate the streets and other criminal underworlds and unfortunately had become a quite hardened, seasoned, street dwelling criminal junkie. There wasn't a scam I was unaware of or took part in or an exploit I wouldn't employ when it served me, which allowed me to become a master manipulator. I was scheming day-and-night, some days just for the hell of it. Being that I am already a very resourceful person by nature, I was able to dream up in-genius methods of making money and taking advantage of people, usually without them even knowing it. However, this day was different. Very different.

There are unwritten rules, silent indicators, on the street which sit in plain-view of society that advertise who and what is available for anyone looking to indulge in the "dark side". Have you ever seen a tire-shop that ONLY services tires, in a run down part of town, where there are consistently a hand-full of young men loitering out front, scanning the landscape? What about seeing nice-looking, well dressed young women innocently sitting at a bus-stop late at night? Or, maybe you have seen a homeless man in traffic who somehow manages to consistently illicit "tips" from nearly every car that drives by him? To the untrained eye, this innocuous occurrence goes unnoticed, which makes it so appealing. But to those well-versed in the underworld, what lies beneath the surface is the ugly face of drug-trafficking, prostitution and street-level drug dealing. To someone who doesn't know the rules, yet engages in the game, there stands a very high likelihood that they will inevitably be taken advantage of, usually not at the expense of their life, but taken advantage of nonetheless(slipping). This day, I would become the predator, prey and nearly the victim, all in the same moment.

[Tire Shop] that was suspected of being a front for drug-trafficking ring.

Very shortly after hitting the streets, I used to get propositioned by very strange individuals, usually when walking late at night with my shirt off(my bad bro). This normally played out in the form of being followed by a creepy ass van, beat up pick-up truck or very high end vehicle and inevitably ended with me using my go-to line of, "back the fuck up or you're gonna need to call Jake from State Farm(I thought it was catchy)". Sometimes I would throw in, "do you have health insurance," followed by the State Farm line, just to add some extra vibrato. However, I was getting really tired of having to consistently hoe-check these motherfuckers once a week, so I eventually started walking with my shirt on at all-times.

One fateful day, as I walk the streets like a dope-sick zombie, too weak to hustle and too fragile to steal, I had the inevitable thought, "why don't I pose as a male-escort then just rob the busters?" I know, how did I not think of this sooner? So that evening, I popped off the shirt like McConaughey, started walking the "drag" and sure enough my first victim stopped me. Ill spare you the details, but essentially I named my price then when they handed over the cash I would just run off, occasionally saying something profound like, "class is in session bitch," at which point they would cut their losses and drive off. Lets be honest, I knew no one was gonna call the cops and incriminate themselves, so what could go wrong? In a short 30 seconds, I would usually net $50-100, more than enough to at least get me "well". Not once did it cross my mind that I might eventually run into someone who wasn't in the mood to play games.

Late one night I decided what I was doing was very wrong, so I went to the local police station to confess my shortcomings, then promptly checked into rehab. Also, the earth is flat by the way(facetious). As usual, I walked the streets like a lion stalking its prey and sure enough, the prey made their presence known. Little did I know, my transgressions, call it karma, was about to even the score.

[Lot] on N. Lamar where I robbed Vietnamese man, who promptly pulled a gun and chased me in his Mercedes.

A Vietnamese man in a black Mercedes flagged me down, at which point I happily strolled to his car and peered in the window. I had no idea what this fuckin' dude said(no habla wey), but nonetheless, I knew what time it was. I quoted him a price of $150(he could afford it), which he promptly handed me, at which point I promptly turned to run off, something I had done numerous times. Normally when I would rip these guys off, they would sit in their car in disbelief then calmly drive off, as not to bring any unwanted attention and or any heat on themselves, because lets be honest no one wants that. As I was doing my best Usain Bolt impression, I heard his tires screech, something that alarmed me. I figured he was just shell-shocked and wanted to flee as quickly as possible, but when I turned around I saw him driving at me faster than Elin Woods driving at Tiger. As I turned to hop a fence in a neighborhood off Koenig Lane, I saw him reach out his passenger side window clutching a handgun in his hand(dedication). Why he chose not to shoot at me, ill never know. Maybe his gun jammed, maybe he didn't want to hit a residence, maybe he just wanted to scare me, only him and God know. Thankfully, the fences I hopped backed right up to a stream with a large drainage pipe so I proceeded to spend the night inside the drain for fear of my own life. I heard someone make a few passes back and forth on the street above where I was lying, but eventually they drove off. Common sense says it was him looking for me, but who knows, it could of been the Maytag man(most likely). I laid low for the next week, terrified that he was going to come back to settle the score, but I never saw him again.

[Drainage] ditch where I hid from man chasing me.

When I think about where I am today, even on my worst day, I am overcome with emotion when recalling how many times I could have been killed. Not victimized, killed. Getting assaulted and robbed are bad enough, but I seriously put myself in situations where people die very easily every single day. Throw in the fact that most people immersed in that lifestyle dont tend to value human life like others and it took the danger to a whole new level. My entitled, selfish, invincible attitude allowed me to put myself in situations that could of either landed me in the penitentiary for the rest of my life, or killed me all together, leaving my family to deal with the burden of my terrible decisions. How selfish. Yes, I was stuck and very sick, more sick than I even realized and could even begin to grasp. However , one thing ive learned is that i'm never completely stuck. No matter how hard it might be, I do have some ability to chose to walk a different path and stop the ever flowing river of madness. I know plenty of people who did less than me, but ended up with worse consequences, or dead all-together. Im not completely sure why I made it out so easy. Call it grace, call it luck, call it being able to run faster than someone with a gun. Whatever it may be, I believe my duty today, to show my gratitude for being given so many chances, chances others wont have, is to act-right, live right and do everything in my power to keep my "house in-order" and to serve others to the best of my ability.