Monday, November 8, 2010

Conversations With Ice: Road Dogs.

The weather is starting to get unpleasant, so Ice T and I decide to hang at his ‘clubhouse’ . The ‘clubhouse’ is an apartment Ice keeps in Newark, NJ- the nice section. It houses all of his good leathers, old Kangoes, a few awards, and a velvet furniture collection he tried to sell at KMART…that obviously didn’t make it. We are sitting in high back velvet chairs with ornate cup holders playing mahjong aka Chinese checkers on a table with black lacquer legs and tufted gold lame` top. We each have a goblet filled with sparkling Perrier in our cup holders. Ice has also laid out some Buffalo chicken tenders and blue cheese-which we are eating with salad forks because of the game we have going on.

Ice T: Stop trying to decipher my design style and go! Plus your tenders are getting cold.

Me: (am touching and smelling the gold lame` tufted table top)…but really, you brought these samples to KMART and were serious?

Ice T: Listen, not everybody wants that old tired Verne Yip style or that Ikea shit. Some people like furniture that’s reflective and flashy…

Me: You know who Verne Yip is?!

Ice T: I watch Holmes on Holmes…plus that black chick with the big ass that does the kitchens, oh and Genevieve can get it too!

Me: You consistently amaze me. (munches on a tender) These tenders are goooooood. (Ice nods with approval) Do you bring Coco here?

Ice T: Once in a while to change it up. We play ‘special delivery’. We act like we don’t know each other and take turns calling each other to meet here. Then we have sex everywhere and then one of us leaves and the other stays here the night- actually one of our best times was on this very table. (he wistfully smiles as I drop my chicken tender, and he catches it on his plate)

Me: (dry heave) Ugh…

Ice T: No, Coco doesn’t come here. I did that to get your last chicken tender-

Me: (shake my fist towards the sky) One day Ice! I shall avenge my chicken tender!!

Ice T: (washes down my last chicken tender with his sparkling water) It’s good for couples to have their own spaces especially when you roll as tight as she and I do.

Me: I totally agree…though I doubt I’d be down with my boo having a whole other apartment.

Ice T: Well if you guys are ballin’ like that and there’s gotta be trust. Coco knows I look but I ain’t touching-been there and done that. There’s only so much pussy a dude can have.

Me: Well, I am thinking separate vacations kinda space, not separate apartments…maybe even rooms. Like I have a room and he has one-

Ice T: First get a dude and THEN worry about that kinda shit. You can say whatever now, but you meet your road dog and that shit changes.

Me: You’re right. Can’t let this type of shit occupy my fragile brain. Need to focus on other things…like beating you at this game (do a game winning move) and working on my stories.

Ice T: I forget you write you spend so much time talking shit!

Me: Don’t be hateful because I beat you.

Ice T: You’re right. You do talk a lot shit which goes back to you not finding your road dog for life-

Me: What if I don’t want one, Ice? Dammit, can’t some people just wanna do the day to day…have some dreams n’ goals…good times in between and maybe find someone to hold hands n’ shit with, but that isn’t a priority-

Ice T: Obviously.

Me: Dammit Ice, what are you getting at?

Ice T: You sound scared and closed off. Do like Madonna and open that heart-from one playa to another- it’ll change your life.

Me: We’ll see. I can make no promises.

Ice T: I’m calling it. Once you find your road dog, you’re gonna be semi-bitch made but it’ll be for the better.

Me: You sayin’ I need to be tamed?

Ice T: Nah, just handled.

Me: Come on, let me beat you at mahjong again- handle that, bitch! (Ice chuckles knowingly)

The End.

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