On East 7th Street I go to tag a doorway. I’m like staggeringly drunk at this point; I can’t see straight. All I remember is tagging up the door and all of a sudden a burly fellow and his fratty-type friend are yelling at me. Scott books it down the block, I haven’t seen him since. I drop the shoe polish and run off with my 40 in my hand. The fratty guy gives chase. I’ve never been a particularly good sprinter so halfway down the block he clips my heel with a kick and I hit the concrete. He starts kicking me, in my nose and ribs and so I lean up and while he’s bent down I smack the 3/4-full bottle upside his head. He moves back and the burly guy moves in and kicks me some more. I got blood just pouring out of my nose and all over the sidewalk and my clothes. This is where I black out.