The Adventures & Shenanigans Of Young Mike
OK, so I have not blogged in about three weeks. I had to put this down in print or else no one would ever believe what the heck happened to me while back in New York. First of all, I had to cut it short, because I have a major research report whose proposal is due Monday afternoon — this counts a significant portion of my grade for this class, which I NEED to graduate — so needless to say, I am buggin’ because I will miss my cousins’ birthday bash/artistic debut. FML.
I drove this time, something I almost NEVER do in New York City. And with good reason. I stopped out on Staten Island, as usual to see my cousin Prince and tried to catch up with young Courtney Mitchell. It was late, so I just stopped through Prince’s job and hit the Verrazano. I figured I was not going to have to be anywhere that night, why not swing through Brooklyn? OK.
Some douchebag in a delivery truck cuts me off while I’m trying to get onto the BQE (Brooklyn-Queens Expy. for outta town cats) and I was forced to get on the Belt Pkwy or run into the divider which probably would’ve killed young Mike, but I digress. I was not pleased with this. But I know my way around Brooklyn having lived out there many years ago, so it wasn’t THAT big of a deal. That situation was just a portend of things to come in regards to traffic — and why I HATE driving in New York sometimes.
I takes the BQE up to the Triboro (sorry, I’m not gonna refer to it as RFK — even though I chronicled the name change/dedication when the city did this) and gets off at 116th. Good deal. Harlem hasn’t changed much, although there are some subtle differences if you know what to look for. Pleasant Avenue, 2nd, 3rd, 112th-118th on that side? Yikes. Some of these buildings were vacant just 2-3 years ago, now they’re selling as “luxury” condominiums? Oh.
So I get to the house and there’s nowhere to park. Mind you there are two brothers who live near the corner of Lenox who have THREE cars. Why this is so, in HARLEM, is beyond me. I circled the block a good half dozen times before just parking on 118th (Street Cleaning Rules were in effect the next morning, so I knew I had to get out and move the car before my interview). I figured I’d get up at 8 and be out by 9:15 or so. The car had to be moved by 9:30. NO. I get a $45 parking ticket. FML.
I go to the interview, only to find out I was bamboozled like Spike Lee. He told me over the phone they were considering me for management. He interviews me for sales and tries to pull the backdoor move (no homo) about using the sales pitch to make the job (100% commission??? IN NEW YORK??? DEAR GOD) seem more lucrative. If I was stackin’, sure, that would be a good look, as the company has a great niche with which to work in NYC, but I AIN’T stackin’, so it AIN’T a good look.
I go back to get the car out of the spot before the ticket (which got soaked in Thursday’s rains) completely deteriorated. I decide to just get outta the city and run around for a while. I wanted to go by Goliath RF’s over on 105th and Lex, but I could not find a park within 6 blocks and it was raining cats and dogs. Screw it. I hit up my friend Alicia down on the LES and again, no parks. Between the rain and my hunger, I just had zero patience about traffic this day. I skipped through LES, SoHo, etc. and headed out to Jersey. I decided to hit up some of the old haunts and eventually drove ALL the way down Route 1 down to Route 18 to East Brunswick and ate at the IHOP that we used to patronize most Sundays after church back in the day. Good eats.
On the drive back, I get the urge to shop, except traffic was terrible once I got near Newark. I really only needed to take 78 out to 24 and follow the Morristown joint for a minute to get to Short Hills, but it was about to get dark and I was still a good hour and a half driving back to Harlem World. I says, “I’ll go tomorrow” and keeps it moving. On the way back to the G. Dub, I come through Englewood where my friend Kelby lives. I guess I surprised her ha, but I told everyone I would be in the building weeks beforehand. Whatever. People ignore me ha.
I had told my cousin that I would come out to Staten Island and spend the night out there. I needed to breathe. I also wanted to visit my dear friend Emy Luz, so I decided to just get my clothes and head out there. Washington Heights was live as ever as I came through. Talk about a neighborhood that never seems to change, but this is a good thing, though. I passed by the Shabazz Center (which is where I would BE right now, if it wasn’t for the fact I have to do this report tonight and tomorrow) and wondered how the bash would turn out tonight. I hate that I would not see some of my cousins who I haven’t seen in over a decade. God willing I will see them often when I move back this summer.
I stop through quickly to get my clothes and head out to SI. On the FDR, a guy pulls a Dale Earnhardt (not being insensitive, but the wreck was eerily similar to Earnhardt’s) and t-bones the right wall near the 59th St. bridge. I do not know if he lived or died. There were a half dozen cops, two fire trucks and an ambulance on the scene and I was stuck between 96th and 53rd for about an hour.
I finally come through Bklyn and head down to the “other” side of Staten Island to chill with my friend for a minute before heading to my aunt’s crib. It was good to catch up.
I crash at my aunt’s and then (follow me from here on out, because it gets interesting) I embark on a day for the ages. Here is the timeline.
Friday, March 20, 2009
3:30 am — hit the sack
11:00 am — wake up
12:20 pm- – tune into Ben F. Woodside trying to will N. Dak. St. to victory — no dice
3:00 — head out to Home Depot to pick up some goods for my cousin
3:30 — drive up the SI Expy, but detoured out to Bayonne/decide to go to the Mall at Short Hills
4:00 — arrive at Short Hills, shop, etc.
5:00 — leave the mall
5:30 — enter the loop for the Lincoln Tunnel (like a fool instead of taking the GWB)
6:30 — still sitting half a mile from the entrance of the tunnel
7:15 — hit Times Square
7:30 — pull up on 19th and packed my things
7:45 — hit the Holland
8:10 — arrive in Jersey City, trying to skip the Turnpike as usual, made the wrong turn on JFK and got stuck in JC for an hour and a half
9:05 — Soprano’s character-like cop pulls up and catches me (he snuck up on me from across the street where there was a hill and I couldn’t spot him first) and says “you’re ON the PHONE (blank stare from him) AND you’re making a turn on red” — I wasn’t, but whatever — “PICK WHICH TICKET YOU WANT!!!” I just nodded and hung up the phone, he says “MAKE A RIGHT… GET OFF THE PHONE… AND GET OUTTA HEAH!!!”
9:06 — I died. Laughing.
9:32 — I finally get out of JC.
10:00 — I’m on Route 1/9, forgetting that the IHOP in Edison is off Route 1 NOT Route 9 DEAR GOD. I proceed to drive the Garden State Parkway to Cape May like an idiot because I thought there was a connector road for 295. Good heavens. I nearly ran out of gas in an area that looked like a deserted swatch of Mississippi. Talk about prayer language coming into full effect ha. I ended up going to a random Mickey D’s (yuck) after not being able to take the hunger anymore. I had not eaten or drank a THING all day (look at what time I arose).
11:25 — Pull into WaWa (which has ALWAYS been a lifesaver for me when living in NY and NJ) and fill’er up.
11:50 — ANOTHER douche rides in my right blind spot and a guy was cruising in the right lane — which I needed to take 295 South to the DMB. So I ended up having to go BACK UP 20 miles through Philly and come back southward through Chester (home of Jameer Nelson and Kevin Jones ha) and all that — another 30 mins.
12:30 am — I am in Delaware.
1:45 — signs show that there was a wreck on 95 South at Exit 173 just outside DC, Virginia side. ALL lanes closed. FML. Thankfully I know Van Dorn and went around it, but that was another 20 mins added to the voyage.
4:30 — I’m just getting to Richmond’s “suburbs”. I should’ve been home by this time.
6:15 — I pull into a drive thru Dunkin’/car wash. The window was INSIDE the car wash. Only Young Mike.
7:25 — I see this EXOTIC Asian chick in a Honda Civic ’09 and she gives me the look like “you want summa dis?” and slowly turned back to the road and sped off. I never saw her again ha.
9:15 — I pull up at my apartment, change into my sweats and slept til 3 pm.
How I made it home in one piece is beyond me. All God ha. I spent 36 hours driving over the past 3 days, I need some TLC from a loving female friend PLEASE.