As I sit at home breathing pathetically out of one nostril. Covered from head to toe, arm bandaged, head swimming in congestion; I thought I should try to pick up my spirits by trolling for music in bed on youtube that would remind me of better times. Just then N.E.R.D.'s album " In Search Of..." popped into my head. This album in incredible and if you haven't heard it please please please for your own sake listen to it streaming on this site: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KzPLPb8QuuM&feature=channel.
As I played each song on the album, I came across a track called "Things are getting better" and remembered my homeboy, now doing his grown man thing down in ATL. As I listened to the song I recalled many memories from the summer of 2004.
There was on particular night when it was incredibly warm but not humid and there was slight breeze. My boy, whose trini, lived deep in Flatbush. I loved going to visit him because frankly whenever im in East New York, Flatbush, or Brownsville I know I can get an excellent homemade beef patty. Im not talking about the golden crust beef patty's which are okay, or even worse those terrible no name FROZEN BEEF PATTYs that they sell at pizzerias and other establishments (that should stick to their main faire and not disgrace the staple foods of other cultures). But this blog entry is not about my love of bk, or beef pattys, or my homeboy from ATL; this blog is about me thinking that I can hang with dudes that are twice my size because sometimes I think im 6'6" 300 lbs, when I am really 5' 1" 119lbs. Anywho this one night we were hanging in the park across the street from my boys house in Flatbush, with him, his older brother , the older brothers two friends, and our childhood friend, and of course we were having a heated debate about what I just forget. I had been hanging out with my "ninjas" the entire day, and there was a little bit of drinking and spades playing going on which may or may not have led to this heated debate.
Then there was conversation about football. We were standing on a grass soccer field which is rare for BK but this is park is particularly frequented by West Indian Soccer players and I guess they frequent it because the city does a good job of manicuring the lawns; but again I digress. While the men argued heatedly about football I began to remember my own football public school and neighborhood touch/push-tackle days.The ever tomboy for some reason I started to feel sprucy and thought 6'6" 300 lbs, I dont know what happened but just as I had thought like I should try to tackle one of my boys, WHACK! I got bodied. Apparently in my day dreaming I had missed the point in the conversation when the men had turned there attention to one particular game of football , when my friends brother turned to me and asked if he could demonstrate something on me, not paying attention and in my own day dream I nodded not evening remembering i did - all the while reminiscing thinking myself 6'6" 300lbs - and man when he sacked me I fell first diagonally up and back then i went horizontally across, shit I got like 5 feet of air man that has to be some kind of record. Of course what goes up must come down and so did I, fortunately onto the soccer field. I laid on the field sacked, cracking up.
All the guys rushed over to me chastising the brother but laughing themselves. All they could do was say "Damn Son Why you have to Hulk- out like that. She mad little Dog." The brother could only apologize and say "I forgot homey she said yea i got carried away." I was still laughing. All I could think was "shit I guess im not 6' 6" 300lbs." They picked me up tussled my hair as if I was their little sister and we all retired to the store to pick a little something to follow that hilariously harrowing experience.
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