Labor Day for me was always the time of year to refocus and prioritize on what it was that I wanted for myself for the rest of the year. I typically spent the summer playing the field of love, but in late August my hormones turned up the frequency so I didn’t end up with zero during the snowswept snuggle and cuddle winter months. I preferred a cutie from one of the Black colleges that occupied the mid-Atlantic states because I could always hop on the turnpike for a few hours and I still had my relative autonomy while I remained in New York City. I would have sworn to you that NYC had the greatest collection of redbone cuties until SOUNDWAVE, RANDY and I came across a pack of hotties from Howard University during the 1989 Labor Day Greekfest at Virginia Beach.
RANDY was S.W.’s cousin who lived in VA Beach. RANDY’s folks put us up for the weekend and we all spent our time on the strip bothering anything that would give us the time of day. As usual, I have to be the clown of the crew and the sassy sisters didn’t mind putting me in my place when I got too sideways. My G was always too futuristic for young girls anyhoo. I needed some college meat to test my mettle. I complimented toenail polish colors and whoever had done the best job in shaving herself. My dudes and I were having a good enough time just posting up on the boardwalk when along came this crew of cocksmashers. I call them that because they all had their walk together and proper. You know that walk that a young lady has when she is trying to tell everybody that she has been doing her ‘Kegel’ exercises? These little girls had that walk and they had the prettiest eyelashes of any crew that was on the strip that weekend. These broads had that kryptonite.
The next step for the dudes and I was to get to know this crew of young sweet hotness, but how do you break into a girl group that is seven deep without getting dissed and dismissed? This is my specialty. I attack the alpha females top lieutenant with my charm. Not the alpha female, because she will have to show out for her girls to prove her leadership dominance, and not the weakest link among the ladies who is still slightly uncomfortable in her skin and may not know how to receive a compliment yet. The second in charge was a tender little brownskin sister with a battery pack bubble backside just as sweet as a piece of chocolate cake. In my mind, I am sure I made that sound where your lips smack just as you are about to enjoy something tasty.
“Hello Ms. Beautastic, you look just like my favorite cup of coffee, dark and sweet.”
Okay, I agree, but that is how you do it people — confident cornballness. The laugh of the sister and some of her friends meant that I hit my target. The next step was for me to introduce my dudes. S.W. and RANDY are both good lookin’ dudes so that wasn’t the problem in as much as there were seven ladies and only three of us. Don’t play yourself into thinking that ratio means menage status because most college girls in the ’80s and ’90s that weren’t into coke weren’t into swinging either. Don’t get me wrong, college girls were always giving up mean head and booty pie, but unless they were from Detroit you weren’t gonna be able to freak out.
None of these ladies were from the ‘D’ either. They were all Cali broads that were attending Howard University. They were all freshmen and they had heard about the Greekfest on campus so they decided to drive down. 18yr olds with their own cars 3000 miles from home. I give credit to these Cali broads for being as gangster as they were. They drove to the beach on a whim and they didn’t even have a hotel room. We all hung together for the rest of the day into the evening. Later that evening when the strip was fully crowded and blown out a riot began. It was so crazy that Army helicopters and National Guardsmen cut off access to the beach. Since we were all stuck together we decided to share a hotel room. Real talk is that all 10 of us slept together on two queen size beds and no one popped off anything.
What that night allowed us was carte blanche to hang with these sisters at Howard U. anytime we wanted. S.W. and I ‘borrowed’ a Maserati from Greenich Village and went to their Homecoming weekend. The ladies brought us to a brunch spot called Julios that served chicken, waffles and mimosas for only $7 bucks a person. Those Howard U. chicks knew how to have a good time too. Almost twenty years later I am still friends with them. Even the ones that I’m not friends with anymore.
Too bad youth is wasted on the young.
“Almost twenty years later I am still friends with them. Even the ones that I’m not friends with anymore.”
great line
Dallas you’re too old man.
Tell us about the time you parachuted down into Shea Stadium in 1986
True story is that for the summer of ’86 I worked for Harry M. Stevens, they were the vending company that sold souvenirs at Shea. H.M.S. was better than crack. You get a commission check and tips, of course. I caked lovely off many a Danbury fan (and Port Jefferson, Mamaroneck, etc.). My folks made me quit when school started but I still went to the stadium like it was nothing. I remember that I hugged a random white dude on the field after Wilson’s single. The was my lone Hell Rell J.R. Writer experience and I end these comments with two No Juelz Santana’s.
i don’t know what’s better the stories you tell or the fact that you actually can puntuate them with photographs….
i heart dallas penn!
where’s my muthafuggin’ tee shirt?!
Oh yes, the kid from B.K. remembers too well the National Guardsmen marching on V.B. with EPMD or P.E. playing as the soundtrack.
C.J., believe it or not it was the first time I had heard N.W.A. The Cali chicks had the cassette and my mind was blown. Fuck The Police was the soundtrack to the riot.
A Blackhawks jersey back then… impressive. Julio’s was great, but closed now. Starbucks in its place.
come on! all of those women, two beds, 3 guys, and nobody tried anything? I would’ve caught a charge messing with somebody’s bikini drawz.
^Zillz= RapeMan, trust me when I tell you that a bird in your hand gets you extra amounts of bush.
Sounds like fun times D.
mmmmmmmm that was good! you took me back to that time in my life when I was young-er, pretty-er and very naive to the ways of this world…I definitely remember seeing/hearing about the riots on TV…damn…things haven’t changed too much, huh?
Ah yes…..life was good back then. And the pictures to prove it!
I’m feeling your style on this one. I have always been better at reeling in the group than picking up singles. Me and my peeps used to keep some groups in various places. When there was no party, the club was boring and nothing else close – you could always call up a random team for a game of pick-up. Just knowing those groups would get you some from somewhere.
Yeah, that N.W.A. piff effed me up for life. Really!
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Back in ’89, being a bit older, we kept dollar bills folded over the cocaina. Me x my crew would’ve most def got wet with them chix in the hotel room. Especially since that’s when we just started dabbling into urban menage’s. That big daddy Caine stayed having the wholesome college girls gobbling meats.
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