Paris

When I was in France in 1989 with my mother and youngest sister, staying at the Hotel Sofitel at L'Defense (don't know French, I think that was the name of that part of Paris), I was downtown near the Opera House and saw four blacks guys surround a white fellow, one on every side of him, the one walking backwards looking like he was pulling on the fellow's shirt or something and I just figured it was a drug deal like in New York (or Toledo) but grew suspicious and then "DON'T DIE THE HERO" flashed through my mind, so I stayed on my side of the street - they were on the other side of that little street.

They then went into the automatic teller machine building, with one standing guard outside. I went and said, "Do you know where Boy is?" (a gay bar in Paris). He looked like he didn't want to be bothered and then his partners in crime came running out and they all took off down the flight of steps right there leading to the subway. The Parisian came out looking visibly shaken and I asked him if they robbed him and he said yes and told me how many francs (don't rightly recall how much). I said I didn't know what to do and he said I couldn't have done anything: THEY HAD A GUN.

I went back to the lobby of Sofitel and said, "Give me a strong Johnny Walker Red with water, I just saw somebody get robbed" (no mood to be out on the streets after being in a bar, as I had planned) and the bartender just acted like ho-hum. (For the record, I've been sober and celibate for years now, by the grace of God.).