rog’s birthday was stoopid in all the best ways. the first bar we started at was hella.corny and the fact that three black prep school grads was hanging out with their snoflakes like if it was “Any Given Sunday 2” was enough “oh, oscar, you are for sure going to hell for this jokes”
better music and more dancing downtown with a DJ that was getting on mah nerves at first (that Funkmaster Flex, let’s scratch up the opening with just the first two lines thrown in, sheet is annoying. punto) but then got better as he went back into time and played Crystal Waters, Tribe Called Quest, Run-DMC and then Ruben Blades… thats what im talkin about!
mara should really comment more on the rat in the subway incident cuz that shit was classic…
low.twenties b.boy comin’ back from a house jam probably somewhere in crooklyn looking to make it back home to the heights sporting baggy jean shorts and a XXXXL t-shirt chugging on some fruit punch in the 1/2 gallon container wit some new throwback nike bo.jacksons (red & blue on white)
as he’s makin the transfer from the F to the 2, he goes through the L station as your typical subway rat is sauntering (yes! sauntering!) through the platform. as he pauses to admire the rodents tenacity, said rodent steps right up to him!
“he aint even afraid of me… hell, he aint afraid of sheet!”
just then, the rat smells his kicks and then takes a bite!
“he aint afraid of nutin!”
not used to smell of new leather (and seeing it aint dat digestable), he scurries off to hide behind a pole next to the staircase to see who may be the next victim of his touch
money is still laughin to himself
i am stupefied
the ladies, mara & lovella, are freakin cuz they both have open toe footwear and are not ready to be the next harbingers of the plague
“c’mon, he’s gone!” i assure em though i have no idea where the lil bastard is and for some readon i get the feeling he still there, on 14th street, looking for some real cheese
kinda like “beat street” meets “the green mile” with a lil “even cowgirls get the blues” mixed in