We Not Thugs, We Gangsta's

Author's Note: This is a journal entry for 1/23.  We had to choose from a list of prompts, and I chose the one that said, "David froze, checking his pockets.  Where was the money?"  It came to me that money is off stolen, so I wrote a piece about a dude losing his money.  I would like to score high on my word choice.

David froze, checking his pockets.  Where was the money?  He checked all of his pant pockets, even the back ones.  Still nothing.  "Oh dang dang, I think I've been pick pocketed," David said to himself.  After finding his money was no longer on him, David quickly spun around and started to retrace his steps.  It was a somewhat of a long walk from his work office to his apartment.    Money didn't grow on trees, so every cent David earned was cherished.

While retracing his steps, he strolled past a group of thugs, each staring slyly at David as he past.  He felt their glare on his back and suspected they may have been the perpetrators, but the coward self within him was not able to put forth the courage needed to face them.  Hoping he only dropped the money, David continued down his morning route, when one of the "thugs" started barreling after him.  That's when David started to sprint.  As he continued sprinting down the road, the "thug" stopped and yelled something directed at David, but David didn't stop to listen.

Each and every morning, David always stopped at a local coffee shop to catch some breakfast and good cup of coffee.  The coffee shop was a small business, but was fairly popular.  Since he was there this morning, he half thought and half hoped that his money was located somewhere inside that building.  Once he pushed the front door open, the usual ding was heard as the door bell went off, signaling a customer was entering the shop.

"Welcome David!  What can I do for ya," yelled a plump man from behind a counter.

"Hey Jerry.  I was wondering if I dropped any money in here this morning.  I really need it because I was going to buy something for my kiddo back home for his birthday, but the money appears to have just disappeared."

Jerry thought hard for a moment trying to recall any dropped money that morning, but finally concluded that he had not.  David thanked the man, then left the coffee shop.  Fear finally hit him.  He finally accepted that he had been pick pocketed by those "thugs," but he wasn't willing to just let them have it without a fight.  David quickly strolled back to where the "thugs" were hanging out and took a stand against them.

"Alright you thugs give me back my money!" demanded David.

"Sure," said one of the "thugs," and produced a wad of cash from his pocket.

Disbelief filled David as he quickly counted the correct amount of money in the wad of cash.  "Why did you just give me my money back?"

"Because you dropped on your way to work today.  Oh and we not thugs man, we gangsters," answered the probable leader.  The "gangsters" slowly rose and converged on David's position.  "We gangsters.  We don't do the cheap stuff out here man, we earn everything we do.  Now run.  Run till your feet stop," said the leader, and shoved David down the road.  David took off running as the entire gang chased after him into the sunset.