Today I was assaulted. 'Twas no big deal, physically. I was getting on getting on the train at Pacific Ave with a co-worker. A pair of African-American kids, maybe 18, were getting on. Sort of. They got on just enough to block the door and get inside to listen to the announcement, and block the entrance so that we couldn't get past. So already, I've chalked them up as idiots. But we manage to get on anyway, and I'm about to ask one of the kids to move so I can get further into the mostly empty car, when the third kid bounces his basketball off the back of my head as he steps aboard. I'm a little shocked that some punk kid would do this to begin with. But not too shocked to turn around and demand an apology. The shithead smirks and claims it was an accident, he was trying to pass the ball to his friend. His pair of friends who happen to have had their backs to me at the time I was getting on. A pass that happens to perfectly bounce off my head back into his hands. A pass at 5'9" (I'm 6'0) in a confined area to a friend who was in no position to catch it. So I tell the fucker that "I was passing it to my friend." is no apology. And then the piece of shit has the nerve to tell me he isn't going to apologize to me. And then has the further nerve to tell me to get out of his face (I'm standing 1 ft. away from him the whole time.). This keeps up for about 5 minutes. His friends are, to my sad confirmation, total idiots. They joke, they take his ball, they make it clear that they're not going to go away either. I realize it's pointless, because: 1) He's a total ass 2) While I can throw down with him, and maybe his one friend, three on one in a subway car full of people who haven't the spine to help me out isn't going to work very well for me. So I move down the car. Of course, as I walk away muttering to myself, they SOMEHOW manage to mishear my outraged mutterings to myself as a possible racial slur, and get mildly offended. (My exact words? "These people. *shakes head*" They heard? "Black people.") And then proceed to loudly joke amongst themselves while using lots of Asian slurs. Of course, lacking any class (but apparently not cash, as they are wearing designer ghetto fabulous threads), they proceed to come over and mock me some more. I, of course, fantasize about shotguns. And make weak attempts at smalltalk with my coworker. And then they leave, and that's it. Except, of course, I can't stop thinking about it. Maybe I should have thrown down with them anyway. $170 suit. $300 camera in pocket. $250 palm pilot in bag. Physical harm. I'm beginning to think it might be worth it all to claim a little shred of a spine, foolish as getting into a beatdown would have been. And I DO have health insurance, so I can afford to get a little broken here and there and somebody will put me back together again. And for all the big talk, these guys were not in my face, which means they were hesitant. A few good punches in, they might have backed off. Hell, a bit of outraged screaming and they might have backed off. A shotgun would have helped too. Maybe I should invest some time into friends who aren't going to run at the first sign of danger, and then remark that they would have slapped the ball back into the kid's head. A 3 on 2 is something I'd be willing to wager on (even if she is a woman, if you knew her she can be quite the badass). I'm not really going to poke at this one too much, however, as I don't have a good history of standing by my buddies in a bad time. I don't run away, but then I don't really step up to "get your back" either. From this moment forth, btw, THAT changes. Maybe I should have gotten a picture or two and filed a police report. I never trust crime statistics, because I see stuff like this happen all the time. My rule of thumb is that for every robbery, assault, etc. reported, there's got to be at least 10 unreported. Letting these punks get away scot free sends the wrong message. And besides, slightly ruining their already dim futures is not a bad tradeoff for a minor bang on the head. Maybe I should trust my guts a bit more. The last time this happened, my instincts were telling me to cross the street and avoid the kids. But I tried to be all PC and not pre-judge people. Same result. The first time, I can claim to be naive. The second time, I was just foolish for ignoring my instincts. And maybe I should reevaluate exactly why it is my coworker friend refuses to believe me about anything. If, after getting hit in the head by a basketball, I say it was intentional, why, WHY, would you choose to believe the smirking lies of the punk kid who said it was an accident?!