First off, let me give a shout to MARC SMOOTH, STONE and HERBERT HOLLER from the Freedom Fridays camp. These brothers hold me down all the time. Yesterday was MARC’s birthday party at this new little spot on Spring Street between Crosby and Lafayette. I figured I could kill two birthdays with one drink by inviting GabeRockka to hang with me. Too bad I gave him the wrong address.
Anyhoo.
MARC SMOOTH did it up in style with a bellydancer, a magician and a trumpeter walking around through the party. And of course some of NYC’s best talent in the highest of heels. The passed hors d’ovaries were top shelf too. Crab cakes, grilled beef, sushi. Gotdamn if your boy never encountered some free food that he didn’t eat. Too bad for me that the free food fell on top of the garbage that I had bought a few hours earlier.
I fell off the wagon party people. I went to McDonald’s for the first time in prA’li 6 weeks. To tell you the truth I have been feeling quite good also. My out of home meals have been at Au Bon Pain lately. There’s a construction project in Manhattan that I am working on now that the Brooklyn Children’s Museum is open to the public and the Au Bon Pain is across the street. Shit is mad expensive up in that piece but I mitigate that by stealing their pastries and their delicious peach iced tea.
I didn’t have lunch yesterday because I had to run back to my base office to pick up my paycheck. Daddy has some bills to pay like it was yesterday. After leaving my office and depositing my check in the bank I decided to stop into McD’s real quick. Looking at the cash in my hand I opted for an Angus Deluxe sandwich and the sweet tea crack. Note to all Angus Deluxe fans… I have them replace the Angus bun with a smaller Quarter Pounder bun. The sandwich just tastes better with less bread. Since I got the last lemon for my sweet tea crack I asked the lady to pour the lemon juice from the container in my cup. Guess who stays winning?
And guess sho stays losing? I was at the second party of the evening when the passed hors d’ouerves encountered the Angus burger in my stomach. This was on some street gang shit where the kobi beef and the sushi ganged up on the McD’s like fucking ninjas. The crab cakes kept it hardbody by kicking the Angus burger in the head when it was down. I looked around the room and realized that I couldn’t smurder the bathroom at this party. It was inside the office of this ad agency and the mens and womens bathrooms were both single fixture closets in the middle of the space. The beatdown that was taking place inside of my stomach was going to leave the foulest of stenchs which would definitely 86 my name from any future invites.
I ran out of the party onto Grand Street in SoHo. It was a typical night in SoHo where all the rich asshats were crowding various pubs and bars standing around holding their beer bottles happy in the fact that they live in Manhattan yet still cognizant in the back reaches of their minds that they were douches. I know this when I look into their eyes and they look away. Maybe it was because I had the crazy eyes “I need to take a shit” look on my face. Whatever. I needed to take a shit.
Option numero 1 bitches and the SoHo Grand hotel was only around the corner. That was when things got dicey. I wasn’t going to make it that far. The dead Angus burger carcass was being expelled from my bowels like some chump forced to walk the plank. There would be no dignity in this dump. I walked into the classic downtown bar Lucky Strike that I had frequented so often back in the early 90’s to peddle grams of that Dwight Gooden white pudding. How ironic is it that I come to this bathroom now for my sphincter’s salvation? GOD is still the greatest comedian. The toilet stall is so tight that you might as well deuce while standing. I squeezed myself in just in the nick of time before the explosion.
I thought I was going to be given a reprieve after that emergency deuce, but to play things safe I headed back home to Freeport. I’m staying out on Long Island again because it made no sense to pay a mortgage and maintenance charges for a place I used as a sneaker warehouse. On the train ride home it happened again. It seems that the passed food was now beefing (literally and figuratively) with each other. The grilled beef must have stepped on the sushi’s tennis shoes. It was on once again. I barely had time to get to my apartment. All this shit had me dehydrated as fuck. I laid my head to bed hopeful that the morning would bring relief.
Here I am on my way to work and what awoke me was the burning sensation in my intestines that there was still something left to be dealt with. The sushi ended up being the final victor because that wasabi that I liberally spread on the California roll was burning a hole in my backside. I was bested by the hors d’oerves yet again. Today I will do the sensible thing and have a soup at Au Bon Pain along with a free lemon pastry and peach iced tea.
