Hercules . . . Hercules . . . Hercules
I kno’ fam ya’ll think I make this sh*t up.
But, I swear to goodness my elevator rides are MUST SEE T.V.
Now this is how it all went down.
On Friday, January 8, 2010, my ass was off due to inclement weather.
So today, Monday, January 11, 2010 I was on a mission to do a lil’ work.
Not too much, but, just a lil’ somethin’, somethin’ to keep my critics down.
So today B’wood was just a lil’ worker bee.
“BE ALL YOU CAN BE” . . . a “ARMY of One”.
Yep, that was me.
Hold Up . . . It’s 12:24 p.m. . . . Work time is over!
Lunch Anyone?
So as usual I head on down to the café and get today’s special.
Liver & Onions, Turnip Greens, Sweet Potato and a 20 fl oz. Dasani bottle water to purify my soul.
M’mm, m’mm, good. . . yummy . . . for my tummy.
Now as I proceed to the corridor, two White men were patiently awaiting the elevator.
I said “Good Afternoon,” and they politely replied “Hey . . . How you Doin’?”
Hold Up… Are you tryin’ to read me, boo?
“How You Doin’ normally would mean somethin’ totally different to me and my counterparts, however, I suddenly realized they weren’t part of the fam’.
Ooops, my bad . . . I was about to split my wig!
Ding . . .
The elevator arrives for our departure.
Now me being observant, noticed that the two White men had on blue contractor shirts, Steel Toe Timberland type boots, tool belts, and lookin’ rather ruff and rugged. A vistor badge was attached to their shirt pocket and they were on a mission.
I tell ya . . . a Blue-Collar “Men at Work” sex appeal, that clearly tickled my fancy!
I said to myself . . . Well!
Now, LAWD knows I’m all about my Mr. Good Bar, but do I suddenly have a lil’ taste, a lil nibble, nibble, or perhaps desire a smidgen of a Nestlé “Alpine White” Bar!
Hmmm? . . . I wonder do they melt in your mouth as well?
B, damn-it . . . STOP CHEESIN SO HARD!
So one of the two men asked, “which floor would you like?”
Now mind you I had already pressed the 22nd floor. He said, “OH . . . I’m sorry dude I didn’t know their were buttons on both sides of the elevator.”
“No problem, thanks anyway.”
Then his partner, asked, “Do you work in the building often?”
BRO', BRO-HAM, BRO-MYSTER. . . .
Are you hittin’ on me?
Alright, alright . . . pull it together B . . . 4 more floors to go. GO, FIGHT, WIN, you can do it.
WHOA, will-power is a mutha!
I calmly replied, “yes Mon-Fri, I'm here faithfully.”
Then one replies, “Damn. . . How you do it?
HUH?
It’s some PHATT ASSES in here!
“STOP THE MUTHA FU**IN’ PRESS!”
Clearly, I’m confused.
The B’wood inside me wanted to say, well which ass are you referring to?
The male persuasion or the lovely lady lumps commonly referred to as “junk in the trunk.”
He continues on . . . “These G'rl’z got asses like Serena, just big phat donkey asses.”
“Yo . . . B are you married?” . . . “Because, if you are . . . Damn, how you handle all these sights.”
I was so dumbfounded, I just knew I was going to be riding the “Lil Yellow SHORT-Bus”, for special chil’ren all the way home.
Now I know you can’t judge a book by it’s cover, but, they both caught me off guard with liking my Sistahs.
I said, “now ya’ll know you can’t handle all that azz.”
“They back it up on ya, and it’s GAME OVER.”
Y’all have a good day!
A Day in the Life of B’wood ain’t easy, I tell ya.
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