Left, Wrong Turf

After a night out of my first time (maybe last) at a few strip clubs, some tensions were rising between two guys and me. Why? I don't know, the way I perceived things that night was basically goin' all out on cash because I know for a fact that this is something I do not see myself throwin' away money on any further. Anyways, getting into an argument over how I spend my money is something no one should fuss about. Point in case, I left that night thinkin' it should've just been all fun for my first time experience, it turned out to be another time to look back and laugh at altogether. From parting ways with the boys, I decided to take a ride on my bike on the 91 to relieve stress. Yeah, I go on long rides if something's botherin' me. I end up in Buena Park and wanted to check how much gas I have left to ensure I don't need to fill up till I get back home at the corner gas station, kinda tired and buzzin', I chose to see if I can get a room for the night next door. Once I pull in and park, I'm soon greeted by Mr. Revolver, his intentions were simple, get money. Stuck me and imposed that I pull cash from my bank cards at the gas station. To my relief, I had done a withdrawal prior engaging my entertainment that evening and hid an extra card from him. The failure to cough up dough hadn't pissed him off enough to shoot me on our walk back to my bike. Hell if I know he wanted my bike or what not, I thought I was done. Disgruntled, his partner took my helmet as prize value to kluck I guess. I faced what I had on my plate that night and just took in what occured, phoning the authorities is bitchin' so I ain't knockin' they're "hustle" since I've done my fair share. The rest is history.....