Damon Young Book Excerpt: The Last Time I Got Into a Fight
There are few social crimes worse than an anonymous nigga taking food off of a nigga’s plate. I’m pretty certain the nineties East Coast/West Coast rap feud started because Suge Knight snatched an oxtail out of Biggie’s bowl during a house party in 1994. I wasn’t actually upset about this breach in decorum. But I knew I had to address this clear affront to my masculinity and my appetite. And I was fucking elated that this random stocky sockless Kappa nigga gave me a prime opportunity to look tough. I’d waited twenty years for something like this, to be a tough nigga in front of a crew of women. I could have kissed that random stocky sockless Kappa nigga for the gift.
I went back to my seat and sat down, placed my plate and my hands on the table, stared down to the opposite end of the connected tables (where he sat), and spoke calmly and forcefully with the deepest voice I could conjure.
“Yo, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Huh?”
“You heard me, bro. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
At this point, you could see the expressions on everyone’s faces changing from Wait. Damon’s not serious, is he? to Um, yeah, he’s serious. This is getting uncomfortable. And entertaining. This is uncomfortably entertaining, and finally landing on Wait, we’re not about to witness a couple niggas in suits fight over some bacon, are we?
Random stocky sockless Kappa nigga finally replied.
“It’s just bacon, bro. My bad. I didn’t realize Pittsburgh niggas got so heated over bacon.”
Now, I knew I wasn’t going to fight this dude over some buffet bacon. But he didn’t know that. And I was perfectly fine with allowing him to continue to wonder if I was actually that bacon-brawling-ass nigga.
“Really? You got jokes now? Come on, bro. You don’t wanna go there.”
Holy shit! It worked! As soon as I finished talking, I could see an inkling of fear form and then pass through his eyes. He really believed that, wherever the fuck “there” was, I was more than willing to go “there.” He thought I leased beachfront property “there” and was just elected mayor of “there.” And no one wants to go “there” with a nigga willing to go “there” over some bacon.
“I’m just saying, man, I saw them take some bacon and I thought it was cool. I didn’t mean any disrespect.”
I went in for the kill.
“It was cool with THEM because I know THEM. THEY are my niggas. I don’t know YOU. I’ve never seen you or your shoes before in my life, dog. Plus they’re women. Niggas don’t take food off of other niggas’ plates, man. It’s whatever, though. I’m cool.”
This, officially, was the most badass thing I’ve ever said. Or done. And I knew immediately it was the badassest thing I’ve ever said or done because of the muffled laughs that followed. They were the type of laughs that happen when you shame a random stocky sockless Kappa nigga who needs shaming. And the type of laughs that happen when bougie black girls are relieved that no niggas fighting over emasculated pork are going to stain their freakum dresses. And if they’re relieved no fighting is going to happen, it means they believed there was enough of a possibility of a fight to be relieved by it not happening. THEY BELIEVED THERE WAS ENOUGH OF A POSSIBILITY OF A FIGHT TO BE RELIEVED BY IT NOT HAPPENING. WHICH MEANT THEY BELIEVED, FOR A MOMENT, THAT I HAD ENOUGH TOUGH NIGGA IN ME TO FIGHT A PLUMP NIGGA IN A SUIT OVER SOME BACON.
