The One In Which We Were Almost Killed By Gang Bangers

Since moving to California, we have learned something.  Gangs are real.  They aren't just on the 10 o'clock news.  They live around the corner.  They tag the sidewalks outside our apartment.  They tag the garage where I park my car.  They are real.  And they live here.

We have also learned something else.  In the area we live, our white skin is the minority.  And sometimes that skin stands out in a very bright, attention-grabbing way.

The third thing I have learned is that some people are just dumb asses.  They run their mouth.  They never shut up.  And if that dumbass happens to be white skinned, we get lumped into the group with the dumb ass.

Now I knew all of this before we came here.  But Saturday night, it was real.  Like up in your face, call in security real!

Since we are in California, Vol Fan's precious University of Tennesse team isn't on regular television.  We have found a sports bar that subscribes to an extra sports package and has football games running out their ears.  So most Saturdays (and Sundays), we are planted on a bar stool to watch the game.  So we have become barflies. 

By becoming a barfly, we have met other barflies over the last several months.  One of the barflies just happens to be a fellow Tennessee fan - we call him Tennesse Joe.  We have never really let him into our circle as he is obnoxious and weird.  But since he is a Tennessee fan, he gets lumped into our group by everyone else.

Saturday evening was a big pay-per-view UFC fight.  Another barfly, Matt, invited us to join him at a place called Chinaland to watch the fight.  Unfortunately, Tennessee Joe heard the invite and decided that he was going as well.  Vol Fan and I almost backed out due to the fact that Tennessee Joe was going to be there. [Yes, he is that annoying!]

When we arrived at Chinaland, the place was standing room only.  We saw Matt seated with another couple at a table.  Vol Fan and I went and stood by their table to watch the fights.  Tennessee Joe and his girlfriend, Big Red, showed up and proceeded to plop all their stuff on the table that these people were sitting at.  Didn't ask.  Didn't say thanks.  Just took over.  Strike one.

During the fights leading up to the main event, I looked around.  Other than our little group, not another white person in the place.  I never felt uncomfortable or unsafe.  Until the main event.  Because that's when Tennessee Joe started running his mouth.  Loudly.  Explitive filled.  So eyes were drawn to us.  So Matt turns to him and in no uncertain terms tells him to shut his mouth.  He is not going to take a punch (or worse) because he won't shut up.  Strike two.

During the main event, Brock Lesnar (the white guy) got his ass handed to him by Cain Velasquez (the brown guy - tattoo across chest reading "BROWN POWER").  Tennessee Joe starts shouting all kinds of mouthy crap.  And not shouting at the television - he had turned to face the crowd (of maybe 150-ish!!) and was shouting at them!!  Matt warned him to shut up again.  And again.  He didn't.  Strike three.

I wish I had the descriptive talents to tell how it happened.  But Matt let everyone in the bar know that the rest of the white people were NOT in any way shape or form associated with the loud mouth white guy.  It included Matt shoving a bucket of beer into his chest, demanding that he take his bucket elsewhere, dumping Big Red out of his seat (she had taken it over while he went to get more beers!), and demanding that he take his girlfriend with him.  At this point, security came rushing in and escorted Tennessee Joe and Big Red off the premises.

 I, for one, was very thankful to Matt.

At a fight, people's emotions run high.  And this fight, right or wrong, was a fight that had race as part of the draw.  Add in a mouthy white guy in a bar packed with Latinos and African-Americans, many of which were gang bangers and I am confident that many were packing.  And I don't say that because of the color of their skin.  I was sitting beside an Oxnard police officer (a Latino one!) and he said "Even I am scared in here."  Add in alcohol and things could turn ugly REAL fast.

Lessons learned:

• Go with your gut.  If your gut says don't go, then don't go.  Don't let peer pressure push you in.
• Always know where the nearest exit is.  You never know when you will need to make a quick escape.
• Or know where the "godfathers" are sitting.  I had them spotted and I was going there if things turned ugly.
• Don't go to a place called Chinaland.  It's not going to end on a good note.