Coming back from a roadtrip out west, we once stopped for gas in Gary around 1am. From all the blue handkercheifs, it looked like the gas station was a Crip hangout.
My two pals in the front seat were pretty oblivious, and while one pumped gas, the other went to get some beef jerky. My buddy's girlfriend was in the car with me, and she was from a tough neighborhood in Boston. I remember she looked around and said: "This place is fucked up. We need to get the hell out of here."