Humble Acts of Chivalry

•           After getting recruited for this blog recently, I asked myself what my first blog post should be about.  After a Friday full of binge drinking, the answer made itself quite clear.  This blog is a detailed account of the chivalrous events that took place on Saturday, September 24, 2011 at around 3:00 am.

  
  

            I was at Skippers for most of the night with some bros and a beautiful slam-piece. We all decided to depart when the owner told us it was 2:45 am. Because we had been drinking for the better part of 14 hours, we were all somewhat shit-housed. My bros went to their house in one direction, and I was walking with the slam piece in the other. (Because this blog entry is titled “Humble Acts of Chivalry”, I will stop referring to the slam-piece as ‘slam-piece’. Since I need to protect her identity, I can’t call her by her real name, either. Thus, she will be referred to as ‘White Rihanna’)

  
  

            As we were walking, I was enjoying a cigarette and focusing on walking in a straight line. White Rihanna informed me that she was cold, so I did the heroic thing and offered her my jacket (first act of chivalry). After placing my jacket on her shoulders, the weird shit started happening. Some guy sprinted by us and came damn close to knocking over my sweet White Rihanna. Seconds later another slam-piece… or girl… runs by in her high heels crying and screaming “SOMEBODY STOP HIM! THAT GUY STOLE MY PURSE!”

  
  

            In a matter of seconds, I came up with the following drunken analysis of the situation:

  
  

  1)   Only once in a lifetime will a girl run by screaming “SOMEBODY STOP HIM! THAT GUY STOLE MY PURSE!”

  2)   The guy was short and white. My chances of being able to catch him and not get my ass kicked were at an all time high.

  3)   White Rihanna was watching me.

  4)   I needed to finish my cigarette.

  5)   WWJD

  
  

          Not wasting another second on drunkenly analyzing the situation, I bolted after the purse-stealing douche (cigarette in hand). I quickly passed the damsel who was helplessly running in her high heels. I was gaining ground on the bad guy as we were running down Poplar. In fact, I felt like I was running the fastest I had ever run. However, the only reason I was running so seemingly fast was because we were running down hill, much to my dismay. When the bad guy turned into an alley, I was ten feet behind him. However now we were on flat ground, and my out of shape ass was starting to lose ground. So with the deepest, mightiest voice I could muster, I shouted a mighty “HEY!” (I sounded a lot like this guy).  The thief looked behind him and realized that one chivalrous son of a bitch was dead on his heels, so he threw the purse on the ground and kept running. I felt like fucking batman.

  
  

  

  skills.  

            When the girl who was mugged turned the corner and trotted up to her purse, I knew what was going to happen. She was going to kiss me on the cheek and ask how she could ever repay me. To which I would reply something like “Don’t worry about it ma’am. I’m here to serve fucking justice”

  
  

            However, what she actually said to me was “Oh my God, I can’t believe I caught that guy.” This caught me off-guard.  When I awkwardly sat there out of breath, she explained to me “I mean, I ran track in high school, but I can’t believe I caught up to him and got him to throw my purse down.” I thought she was making a joke. When I asked if she was kidding, she did not reply and started walking away. This chick was not about to deny my claim to the coolest thing I have ever done.

  
  

            I caught up to her and enlightened her dumb ass. “First off, lady, there were at least fifteen people standing around when you came by screaming, but I was the only one to help you! That alone deserves thanks! But more importantly, I caught up to the bastard and got him to throw the purse on the ground. Your ass didn’t do shit! And you have the balls to claim that YOU caught him? Really Lady? REALLY?”

  
  

            This took her off guard. She asked me “Well do you want, like, money, or something?” This really pissed me off. I wondered if Batman ever helped someone who was stupid enough to believe that they stopped the Joker. Did Batman ever save someone who afterwards asked him if he wanted ‘like, money, or something’?

  
  

           I told her that she was supposed to kiss me on the cheek. That weirded the shit out of her, and she left. I felt like someone kicked me in the balls. I went back to White Rihanna and tried to explain to her everything that happened, thinking that maybe she would appreciate my heroic deed. But as I explained what happened, she repeatedly asked me “Wait, why did you leave me alone?” (She was obliterated). So I made sure she got home. Then I went to my house. Then I watched the new Star Trek movie.

  
  

            In conclusion, if any of you know who the slam-piece that got her purse stolen was, make her read this blog post. When she gets done reading, punch her in the face. Tell her I sent you.
• -Keyser Broze