Rollin' Through the Hood (Part 4)

There's nothing worse than damaging your Metrocard with just a few days left before it expires. Sure I could've gotten a new joint with a swipe of the New World Order card but with it being such a beautiful day, I decided to take my rehabilitated baby out for a roll. Sure she's still sitting on cross-country tires (which slows her down considerably, but I had to know how much time I'd be saving/losing on two wheels instead of the iron horse. The answer is just crazy. I got here in 25 minutes as opposed to the usual 40. And that was with me missing my turn. Now that it's warm the public transpo might be over, except for on days when it rains.

But it's not so much the ride but all that you see while it's going down: teenage boys hollering at girls in short shorts from the backseat of some hooptie, her booty swinging from side to side for all to see with the lit cigarette in her underage hands, elderly women who need to retire their driver's licenses long ago, the cultural and ethnic shifts between blocks. You start off with Caribbean cats posted up on Nostrand Avenue and by the time it's over your cruising past old Puerto Rmen playing dominoes and teams of kids following mommy like ducks in a lake. I love this city...sometimes.

I had to put a stop to my erotic writing streak as I think I was giving folks the wrong idea. Ifaniyi called me at lunch like "What, you in love or sumthin?" The answer is [insert drum roll here] Nope. It didn't help when I posted that pic of me and Seda on my Myspace page. But that was just to show off our 30s-style costumes from my girl Toya's 30th b-day party over the weekend.

As for the posts as of late, I decided that I needed to channel my frustrations and impatience into something productive and somewhat enjoyable, particularly as the change in seasons has set my hormones afire. Pop warned me that I'd have to contend with this for a good 30 or 40 more years at least. He was right, as usual. But I think I'll be able to handle it.

One of the things that's so great about getting older is that it becomes so much easier to appreciate women and their many kinds of beauty without the need to chase. Though I've never been the run-up-on-every-lady kind of dude, I can remember the days of old when I'd be out and about with the crew and an ass or a pair of legs would come by that one of us would feel the need to go after. Now I just look and keep moving, especially as physicality falls lower and lower on my list of priorities. I'm looking for the complete package. Plain and simple.

Right now, even though there are three hours before I leave, I'm thinking of the ride back home, the setting sun behind me as the Daywalkers head in for dinner and TV. I'm not sure where I'll end up tonight. But there's a big part of me that's still glad to have the choice. Out.