Ayo For Yayo

Wednesdays are my drinking night with my white friends, and by white I mean white white. I use race here not to illustrate a kinship but rather my exclusion from that class. I may be white but I ain't white like these guys. I'm talking old monied crackas... The private schooling, trust funds, whale belted seer-sucker suits and weekend retreats on Nantucket white.

But...

If anything I am a man of the people and my social life reads like the UN, only less incompetent. I don’t discriminate against conservative caucasians as is so trendy these days.

However for the purpose of this conversation, I will be playing the role of a honky donkey.

As is to be expected our tavern talk inevitably leads to hot topics such as the evils of homosexuality and what's wrong with the black community. We do so not because we are homophobic bigots but because we are constantly told that it is all our fault on the nightly news.

It isn't, and trust me if we had our druthers, we wouldn't even talk or care about it if there weren't an oppressed minority story in the news every single gosh darnit day.

Mark Twain just called... apparently Huck Finn was a paraplegic jewish lesbian. Huh?

... but most of all we just talk about chicks, chicks man!

As would be expected when it comes to attracting women into our crew it is usually I that is the ringleader, and yes I use that word intentionally to convey not only the circus like environment but also to point out how in essence we are a bunch of clowns.

This role falls to me not necessarily because I am the most charming or handsome, although the argument can be made that that is the case, but rather because…

... well I'm upper upper class high society. God's gift to ballroom notoriety, and I always fill my ballroom. The event is never small. The social pages say I've got.... the biggest balls of them all.

Ive always found that the most direct sexually insinuative cards on the table approach to be the most successful but in group settings it can be tricky it's tricky to rock a rhyme, to rock a rhyme that's right on time it's tricky, as there are multiple variables i.e. prudes/fat friend/cockblockers that can foil the entire operation.

What complicates matters more is that I’ve recently placed myself on the injured reserve list and am no longer an active pursuer so I decided to have some fun with my job as Chattel Wrangler and broke out a new move that I’ve been secretly working on, in fact I shouldn't even be talking about it.

... but I will.

I’m calling it the Manolo Lizard inspired by Tony Montana's sidekick Manny Ribera, the man was a frickin’ genius, and ahead of his time innovator. Those that have seen the movie know exactly what I'm talking 'bout and those that haven’t let me explain.

What you do is form a V with your middle and index fingers, place closely to your mouth and then in an in and out rapid fire succession dart your tongue like a bug coming out of your mouth through the small part of the V where the fingers meet.

The implication should need no explanation.

So what I would do after catching a broad checking me out is break out El Lizardo followed by a circular beckoning hand motion to bring her whole crew over.

… and would you fuckin’ believe it, the son of bitch worked like a charm. I’m talking four out seven Hall of Fame type numbers, even better than the gold standard... the hi-five.

Shhhit, maybe I am that handsome and charming or maybe I underestimated the popularity of early eighties cocaine sagas amongst women.