1983

One of them laughed, then cussed me out in a low voice. I couldn't think of anything to say. There just isn't a whole lot you can say while waiting to get mugged, so I kept my mouth shut.
"Need a haircut greaser?" The medium-sized blonde pulled a knife out of his back pocket and flipped the blade open. I finally thought of something to say "No" I was backing up, away from that knife. Of course I backed right into one of them. They had me down in a second. They had my arms and legs pinned down and one of them was sitting on my chest with his knees on my elbows, and if you don't think that hurts, you're crazy. I fought to get loose, and almost did for a second; then they tightened up on me and the one on my chest slugged me a couple times. So I lay still, swearing at them between gasps. A blade was held against my throat

"How'd you like that haircut to begin just below the chin?"