One afternoon I was waiting for the 5 on Fulton and Masonic. This was when I was in high school at Urban. Every once in a while I’d walk back home through Golden Gate Park, but usually I just took the 5. Anyway, all I was doing was sitting at the bus stop, minding my own business, next to a lady who looked to be in her mid-forties. I saw a little red car pull up to the stoplight, and as the light turned green someone leaned out of the rear right window and shot me in the stomach with a BB gun, then the car sped off. Whoever was in the car thought it was pretty funny because I could hear them laughing, but I was pretty pissed. It didn’t hurt a ton, but I felt so disrespected.
I grabbed the pellets and probably made some kind of angry noise. I remember looking over at the lady who was waiting with me and saying to her, “Can you believe that?” But for whatever reason, she didn’t even respond. Maybe she didn’t hear me, but again I felt disrespected. Like she couldn’t take time out of her day to acknowledge that I had just been shot multiple times in the gut. So we stand there, the two of us, not saying anything. And then, a few minutes later, she turns to me and asks, “Do you know which way St. Mary’s is?” I was still kind of annoyed by her lack of interest in my getting shot, but then I thought maybe she was heading to the hospital to visit someone who was actually hurt. Biting back my bitterness I said something like, “Yeah, it’s just over there.” Then she got up and left. She didn’t even thank me for the directions. Jerk.