Ever had a gun pointed at you? (1 Viewer)

[Darth Cheney]

I used to play chess at a club in North Long Beach. Bad part of town

I just got home today, but that's GOTTA be somebody's sig by now....

I know this seems funny. You picture a chess club, and it's a bunch of old nerds like me hanging around, right? Well don't get me wrong, I AM an old nerd. But the club in Long Beach was not like that. Pretty tough dudes at this club, some of them straight out of prison. Not kidding here. Chess is very popular in the Hood.

The scene: A dimly lit, smokey room in the back part of an old neighborhood laundrymat. Several chairs surround the room as grizzled old men and young ex-cons (some still on the lam) leer at each other over old wooden tables. The room is eerily silent, save for the occasional hacking cough of an off-duty municipal worker sitting alone in one corner, sipping his drink hidden within a crumpled paper bag. Atop each table, mired amongst dirty ashtrays and alcohol bottles of every shape and size, sits a chess board - some made of cheap cardboard with plastic figurines, others custom made of unknown origin. In one corner, a huge man, his dark skin aged by the sun and years of hard living, sits slumped over one table, his arms crossed and resting behind a chessboard made of polished tile. He chews on a toothpick and leers across the table at his opponent, a middle-aged nerdy-looking fellow who seems oddly out of place, yet strangely comfortable in his surroundings. Removing his toothpick from his mouth, the huge man mumbles in a low, husky voice, "Your move, Tim."

Tim's chin rests in his hand, his elbow propped upon the table. Several of his opponents' pieces lie beside his side of the board, victims to his most recent ploy. He looks across the board, pondering his next move. His opponent's gaze does not move, his eyes fixed on the remaining pieces on the board, as he chews on the remnants of the toothpick between his teeth. Tim wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead, as he reaches out and moves his remaining bishop across the board, and in turn removes his opponent's knight that had eluded him for so long. His opponent's king now sits alone, surrounded by a siege of Tim's pieces.

"Checkmate," quips Tim, in a sigh of relief, a wry gleam in his eye. But his moment of victory is soon quelled by an ominous shade of fear, as his gaze is drawn to the glimmer of a pistol now being pointed at him from across the board.

"But..." Tim begins to mutter.

"But, nuthin'" replies the man across the table. "I gotch yo checkmate right here. That wasn't no straight move, dig?'

Tim, crestfallen in his shallow victory, his eyes fixed on the cold blue gun pointed at him, can only mutter a stifled, "Yep."

The man grins, and slowly lowers his piece, laying it on the table beside a legion of chess pieces that had left the game long ago. "I think we done for tonite. Thanks for the game, bro. I'll take my winnins."

Tim removes a gold bracelet from his wrist & lays it across the board with a sorrowful look in his eye, as he stands up from his chair. "This isn't right, Downtown. You know it."

"Yeah, tell it to tha boss," he replies with a snicker. "He'll be back next week. Will you?"

"I guess," says Tim, as he exits through the wisps of smoke towards an old wooden door.

<fade out>

Chess = serious business

I'm crying here.

 

[timschochet]

I know it's fun to give Tim a hard time, but his story is just as believable as anyone's.Chess, Dominos, even Checkers are taken very seriously by a lot of guys that have spent extended time in prison. You kind of run out of things to do there after your first 10 minutes or so.Now a gat at a Chutes 'N Ladders tournament would be another thing.

The gun that was pulled on me was outside the chess club, and not by a player. The gunman was a white kid. Most of the players at the club that I was referring to were African-American. There was no connection between them. I only brought up the background of the people there because people teased me for writing that it was a rough part of town. It was, and still is. Chess can be played by some very dangerous people, though. I have played in Washington Square in New York city, just outside of Greenwich Village, and I saw a player there pull a knife out on his opponent over a dispute. I have played on Venice Beach and seen the same thing. Both incidents involved people who made bets and then refused to pay after they had lost.

 

[videoguy505]

Chess, Dominos, even Checkers are taken very seriously by a lot of guys that have spent extended time in prison.

Now the King, he stay the King

 

[Dexter Manley]

I used to play chess at a club in North Long Beach. Bad part of town

I just got home today, but that's GOTTA be somebody's sig by now....

I know this seems funny. You picture a chess club, and it's a bunch of old nerds like me hanging around, right? Well don't get me wrong, I AM an old nerd. But the club in Long Beach was not like that. Pretty tough dudes at this club, some of them straight out of prison. Not kidding here. Chess is very popular in the Hood.

The scene: A dimly lit, smokey room in the back part of an old neighborhood laundrymat. Several chairs surround the room as grizzled old men and young ex-cons (some still on the lam) leer at each other over old wooden tables. The room is eerily silent, save for the occasional hacking cough of an off-duty municipal worker sitting alone in one corner, sipping his drink hidden within a crumpled paper bag. Atop each table, mired amongst dirty ashtrays and alcohol bottles of every shape and size, sits a chess board - some made of cheap cardboard with plastic figurines, others custom made of unknown origin. In one corner, a huge man, his dark skin aged by the sun and years of hard living, sits slumped over one table, his arms crossed and resting behind a chessboard made of polished tile. He chews on a toothpick and leers across the table at his opponent, a middle-aged nerdy-looking fellow who seems oddly out of place, yet strangely comfortable in his surroundings. Removing his toothpick from his mouth, the huge man mumbles in a low, husky voice, "Your move, Tim."

Tim's chin rests in his hand, his elbow propped upon the table. Several of his opponents' pieces lie beside his side of the board, victims to his most recent ploy. He looks across the board, pondering his next move. His opponent's gaze does not move, his eyes fixed on the remaining pieces on the board, as he chews on the remnants of the toothpick between his teeth. Tim wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead, as he reaches out and moves his remaining bishop across the board, and in turn removes his opponent's knight that had eluded him for so long. His opponent's king now sits alone, surrounded by a siege of Tim's pieces.

"Checkmate," quips Tim, in a sigh of relief, a wry gleam in his eye. But his moment of victory is soon quelled by an ominous shade of fear, as his gaze is drawn to the glimmer of a pistol now being pointed at him from across the board.

"But..." Tim begins to mutter.

"But, nuthin'" replies the man across the table. "I gotch yo checkmate right here. That wasn't no straight move, dig?'

Tim, crestfallen in his shallow victory, his eyes fixed on the cold blue gun pointed at him, can only mutter a stifled, "Yep."

The man grins, and slowly lowers his piece, laying it on the table beside a legion of chess pieces that had left the game long ago. "I think we done for tonite. Thanks for the game, bro. I'll take my winnins."

Tim removes a gold bracelet from his wrist & lays it across the board with a sorrowful look in his eye, as he stands up from his chair. "This isn't right, Downtown. You know it."

"Yeah, tell it to tha boss," he replies with a snicker. "He'll be back next week. Will you?"

"I guess," says Tim, as he exits through the wisps of smoke towards an old wooden door.

<fade out>

Chess = serious business

Awesome.

 

[ODoyleRules]

The scene: A dimly lit, smokey room in the back part of an old neighborhood laundrymat. Several chairs surround the room as grizzled old men and young ex-cons (some still on the lam) leer at each

...

Chess = serious business

just awesome. well done.

 

[Tusken Raider]

I know it's fun to give Tim a hard time, but his story is just as believable as anyone's.

Chess, Dominos, even Checkers are taken very seriously by a lot of guys that have spent extended time in prison. You kind of run out of things to do there after your first 10 minutes or so.

Now a gat at a Chutes 'N Ladders tournament would be another thing.

The gun that was pulled on me was outside the chess club, and not by a player. The gunman was a white kid. Most of the players at the club that I was referring to were African-American. There was no connection between them. I only brought up the background of the people there because people teased me for writing that it was a rough part of town. It was, and still is. Chess can be played by some very dangerous people, though. I have played in Washington Square in New York city, just outside of Greenwich Village, and I saw a player there pull a knife out on his opponent over a dispute. I have played on Venice Beach and seen the same thing. Both incidents involved people who made bets and then refused to pay after they had lost.

No doubt, & FWIW, your experience was probably more personally terrifying than mine. Your story inspired me to get a little creative on a slowass Friday morning, and besides, I haven't had a TimdraftTM to participate in for a while

 

[Baloney Sandwich]

I'm surprised there hasn't been more chess related violence but perhaps a lot of it never gets reported by the media. Thankfully Tim lives to Nf3-e5 again.

 

[Restricted]

went to the bank to get change for the drawer. walked out to a police officer with his gun pulled and pointed at me. hands up against the wall and everything. after some communicating on his cb he realized he was at the wrong bank, it was the one down the street that was getting robbed. without a sorry or anything he hopped in his vehicle and took off.

 

[bushdocda]

I was caught in the middle of a bad scene where gentlemen with bats and hammers surrounded the deck we were on. They were looking for someone else (an acquaintance of our group) and no doubt there were guns present. Not sure how my friends talked them down without the #### hitting the fan bc they had malicious intent.

Ah, bad memory lane.

 

[anakin]

I was living in Orlando at the time and I got a call from the police that I needed to get out of my apartment building as there was a crime in progress there. I walked out of my apartment and had two shotguns pointed at my head. I was thrown down and zip-tied until the three policemen looked at my wallet. As soon as they identified me, they released me. Turns out in the apartment next door to mine, my neighbor had held a woman at gun point and repeatedly assaulted her. There was constantly loud music coming from the apartment so I thought nothing of the loud music blasting out that day.

There was a standoff that lasted 12 hours so I couldn't return to my apartment or get to my car. Thankfully the victim lived, but my neighbor did not. I felt so bad for the neighbor's mother who has to come pack him up.

 

[Hastur]

Yep. About 12 years ago. I used to play chess at a club in North Long Beach. Bad part of town, not well lit, small shopping center. I was involved in a tournament that went over the normal time I was usually there, about 11:30 pm on a Tuesday evening. There were still people playing when I left. I got into my car, and as I started to close the door suddenly I saw a kid directly to my left, pointing a gun right at my head. I froze. He asked me to give him my keys. I did. Then he told me to get out of the car and lean against the wall. I did. I think I offered him money at that point, but he just pointed me to the wall. I seriously thought I was about to be shot. But he just wanted my car. He told me to close my eyes and don't move. Then he drove away. After about 5 minutes I went back into the club, and called the police and my wife. They found my car in South Central about a month later, completely stripped. I had nightmares about this for years afterward.

http://www.thestar.com/news/world/2014/08/15/chess_olympiad_comes_to_grim_end_as_player_dies_midgame.html

It seems chess CAN be dangerous!

 

[jonessed]

I've been shot in the leg .

 

[Todd Andrews]

I lived in New Orleans.

 

[flapgreen]

Yeah

 

[Raider Nation]

Yeah

Sounds harrowing.

 

[Doctor Detroit]

BTW - I didn't think about the girl. It was (after the fact) surreal...just did what I had been training for everyday for years. Next day I broke out in hives.

Also had 12 missiles (Exocet and Scuds) fired at us in about 20 minutes a few years later in the Persian Gulf - we were escorting re-flagged Kuwati oil tankers. Same deal...just did the job, chaff and jamming evaded most, one taken out with that R2D2 gattling gun thingy (been too long). No hives the second time around, but it was a lot more scary after the fact than when it was happening.

I don't know what real (ground) combat is like, but those two were close enough to know I never wanted to find out.

I was only afraid the time I was in Gardez, Afghanistan and the base was getting attacked. No hives, but I really wasn't the same for a long time after that. It helps when you are doing your job at the time, it allows you to concentrate on that and not think about getting dead.

Yep. That is the only time I ever had hives. No warning, had the mid-watch, went to sleep, woke up for lunch and I had about a thousand little white head pimples all over my neck and face.That first time, my radar operator - I was passive electronic warfare, had to co-ordinate with the active radar crew - was this tough guy Puerto Rican kid from the Bronx. Dude had huge upper body, in great shape, awesome boxer. Totally freaked out. Yanked him off the scope and put Jonesy on it. Jones? 110 pound fairy, probably the most effeminate guy on board. Jonesy was cool as a cucumber, got a bronze star medal out of it.

ETA: Think the Bronze Stars got handed out in '88; been too long, not sure what citation folks got back in '86.

ANYWAY...you just never know who you can depend on until it is happening.

 

[Jules Winnfield]

In a diner one time. I told the guy "I hate to shatter your ego, but this is not the first time I've had a gun pointed at me."

 

[cstu]

By another person?