The stare down

While meandering to tennis yesterday, a group of men began harassing me. They were walking very close, yelling “white man” over and over, and laughing. After a few moments, I glanced at the leader of the group with a look of “what are you doing?” He reciprocated with a menacing glare and our eyes locked for 2-3 seconds.

Then, like a strike from above, the guy hit a rock jutting from the ground and lunged forward into the dirt. I smiled and went on my way.