"My man is crushin."
He subsequently extended his grip, seal of approval. Alcohol was clearly on the ticket, yet this black man definitely seemed to embody some form of cool.
"This dude is crrrrushin. Check him OUT," he beckoned his accomplice, who was either too drunk or too tired to signal recognition. We stood in The Pizzeria, a place whose singularity is repeated in name and quality. I was put up in an all red outfit; a red corduroy suit-coat, a differently colored red corduroy pair of pants, and yet an even differently colored red polo t-shirt. A bright green tie sealed the deal.
"Crush a holic," he said.
"Crush o-matic," I replied, then added, "Crush city, USA."
"You are pimpin tonight, I know you are..." He followed, "He's like santa claus! What red and green and all."
"Yes, I try and give my presents all across the land," I said.
"How do I get that? I gotta get that. He's even got the Air Moses sandals with white socks! You gotta hook me up with this. Check out my shirt"
He pulled up his sweatshirt, revealing a black t-shirt with a construction sign, below which stood the words "Pimp At Work"
"We could trade I suppose?" I asked, but he didn't hear.
"Keep it crushin man," and that was all.
Comments
I will crush you.
Posted by: Rob | April 18, 2005 9:29 PM
His friendly farewell wasn’t the perfect ending I looked for in these kinds of encounters. I always dare to be monumental. The man’s jack-o-lantern smile sprayed kool-aid mist every time he realize perfect lisp within his drunken babble.
His back was turned, so I raised my voice, “Hey, I asked you a question.” If p0ker faces were intimidating, then you could call me Five Card Stud.
“Calm down Santa, I got to take care of bidnezz.” There was no breaking this guy’s spirit. I strengthened the grip of my lips and aimed my nose right between his eyes. “I got your ‘bidnezz’ right here.” He turned and met me face to face. I have his undivided attention. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a clip, and loaded my weapon. I cocked back the delighted face of Mr. Easter Bunny and out poked a round of cherry pez.
“Crush this.”
Posted by: joel | April 18, 2005 9:34 PM
i hope that is true because it is sweet. almost as sweet as the 3.5 inch hail we omahans are about to have.
Posted by: jayme | April 18, 2005 9:34 PM
jeff forgets to add how a dude later threatened to beat him up at that very same Pizzeria that very same night for touchin the dudes girlfriend on the way to the bathroom. :amused:
that would be a great addition to the story.
Posted by: Anonymous | April 18, 2005 9:48 PM
i shouldnt be listed as anonymous :(, as i am proud to give details on a story i only heard secondhand from breakfast the next morning!
Posted by: dave | April 18, 2005 9:59 PM
I like joel's remix haha it sounds like a song I would have downloaded. www.myspace.blog/facebook?funk=on
this is a true story. and the one described by anon is true, but happened on a completely different night
Posted by: Jeff | April 18, 2005 10:01 PM
i like the idea of your outfit and believe that you should take a picture and give it to me
Posted by: samara | April 20, 2005 11:15 AM