Excitement in the Projects!
I've lived in Florida for 16 years and ten of those were in south florida. I went to a school in the lower-income part of town for four years, and have been living in south beach for nearly a year now. And in all that time, I never had any real problems with crime. Touch wood.
Today, Dad's company had some sort of corporate charity gig where a bunch of big Miami companies went to a housing project in the ghetto and gave it a new coat of paint. So Dad and I tag along and it was pretty cool talking with everyone and painting the walls and fences. After a very nice BBQ, we then jump on a charter bus to take us back to company headquaters to pick up the car. And some kid shoots the bus. Bang.
Not with a real gun, it sounded like a powerful bb gun or maybe even a rock, but it broke the window, so the bus driver pulled over the the side of the raod, got out, found a policeman, jumped in the back of his car, and drove off. Leaving us on a bus in the middle of the ghetto. I should also add that Dad and I were the only men on the bus, so that added to my amusement. Seizing the opportunity, I did such couragous things, as try to work on the onboad DVD player and try to find the radio to call for another bus to come pick us up, which they eventually did, but I think most other people were a little more scared than they let on.
I, of course, kept everyone amused with stories of how I was going to use this as an excuse to get free drinks at the bar tonight and how, in five years time, this story will have grown so overblown, that I'd be saying we were assaulted from all sides by a gang armed to the teeth and I single handedly fought them off and saved a bus full of fashion models. Just you watch!
Today, Dad's company had some sort of corporate charity gig where a bunch of big Miami companies went to a housing project in the ghetto and gave it a new coat of paint. So Dad and I tag along and it was pretty cool talking with everyone and painting the walls and fences. After a very nice BBQ, we then jump on a charter bus to take us back to company headquaters to pick up the car. And some kid shoots the bus. Bang.
Not with a real gun, it sounded like a powerful bb gun or maybe even a rock, but it broke the window, so the bus driver pulled over the the side of the raod, got out, found a policeman, jumped in the back of his car, and drove off. Leaving us on a bus in the middle of the ghetto. I should also add that Dad and I were the only men on the bus, so that added to my amusement. Seizing the opportunity, I did such couragous things, as try to work on the onboad DVD player and try to find the radio to call for another bus to come pick us up, which they eventually did, but I think most other people were a little more scared than they let on.
I, of course, kept everyone amused with stories of how I was going to use this as an excuse to get free drinks at the bar tonight and how, in five years time, this story will have grown so overblown, that I'd be saying we were assaulted from all sides by a gang armed to the teeth and I single handedly fought them off and saved a bus full of fashion models. Just you watch!
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