Sunday, August 3, 2008

The night that the Persian Mafia almost killed me.

When I was 17, I took Cosmetolgy courses as part of my high school's ROP program. It was free, it was after school, and it sucked. There was a girl in my class who I went to remedial high school with (before I got kicked out) named Ciji, and while we were not friends in school, we were definitely attached at the hip in Cosmo because we didn't know (or want to know) anyone else. She lived down the street from me too, so we carpooled often. It didn't matter though because gas was like, $1.75 then and we lived like 10 miles from the school.
Ciji looked like Mariah Carey and loved Persian dudes. Persian dudes suck. Anyway, she had a boyfriend who was a real scumbag and would always give her problems. She'd always talk about some Persian Mafia type shit and in typical Martine fashion I always told her to ditch the zero and shut up about it. I think she even mentioned a time when he was physically abusive to her. That's a big no no.
One night, Ciji is driving us home from school and we notice a car is following us. Not in the "oh, weird that car is going in the same direction as us" sense, it was in the "holy fucking shit, that car is following us." So she starts going down all these weird inconvenient side streets and sure enough the car does too. At this point I'm freaking out and asking her if she knows whats going on and again she spouts some shit about the Persian Mafia and her boyfriend and yadda yadda and I'm like "CIJI DON'T GO HOME, DON'T BE DUMB JUST GO TO THE POLICE STATION." And in typical dumb slut fashion, she says "no, I can't. They'll just drive off and wait til the cops are gone to fuck with me." I'm shitting bricks, and she turns up the street to my house and we hit a stop sign. The car cuts us off, stops in front of us, almost hitting her, and two Persian dudes with baseball bats get out and run at the car. She books it back to the 101 with these assholes in tow and I'm screaming at the top of my lungs about to cry thinking "oh my god I'm going to die because of this fucking goon." She calls her boyfriend and he's at some park in Tarzana laughing at her, so we end up there and a couple exits before that, we lose these fucking baseball bat wastes of life. Once at the park, Ciji's boyfriend YELLS AT HER because of what happened, even though it was somehow his fault (I don't exactly remember why..don't drink ever.) and instead of going home in a timely manner, I had to sit in the park with this cunt and her boyfriend for 2 hours until she brought me home. In this two hours, the boyfriend just berated, talked down, and shoved Ciji. I guess she deserved it for being such an idiot loser and almost getting us both killed by having a furball for a boyfriend. I held my tongue ever so gracefully.
Shortly after this incident, Ciji dropped out of class and we stopped being friends. That's fine, because I could never be friends with someone who would put my life in danger. Thats just selfish business. Since that day, whenever I drive to my mom's house at night, I'm terrified someone is following me.

1 comment:

Omid Metallica said...

To me as a Persian living inside Iran this story seems kindda surreal! But, how are you sure if those guys with baseball bats were Persian Mafia?
Anyway, you were lucky you didn't get hurt! Nice blog, by the way!