Tell em all I said HI

[Fungalicious]

[Dirty South Hustla]

I got out of the cab (or maybe it was the bus, or hell, it may have been a stolen Yugo I hotwired at the juke joint while the owner was busy pouring pitchers of lukewarm domestic beer down the front of a tipsy, top-heavy bimbo in the wet T-shirt contest therein - I was soused, all right?) at the corner of 14th and Minna and happened upon this sorry-looking bloke with a comb-over that reeked of three-day-old Brylcreem sitting on the curb reading the paper amidst the scattered broken teeth of aspiring hustlas who had made the pilgrimage to that hallowed spot seeking their 15 minutes of World Star fame.


https://www.google.com/maps/@37.7683152,...384!8i8192


He was a rather handsome fellow with a full beard and moustache, neatly trimmed despite his otherwise disheveled appearance. He might've been a lady-killer, except he weighed 587 pounds. "The number of the feast," as they say in that neck o' the woods.


I asked the man what time it was. He farted with grim determination - a shrill yet oddly flavorful salami-and-provolone expulsion - and glanced at his Ingersoll Mickey Mouse watch. The worn red pleather strap bit into the pasty flesh of his oversized wrist. "Six in the morning. Now piss off."


While I was evaluating the pros and cons of stealing another car in broad daylight, or at least scoring a set of hubcaps to pawn for beer money, this east coast hustla came rolling up to the red light in a Bentley with 24-karat gold-plated grille. We bumped fists through the open window. His driver tipped his hat. I held a quick internal debate as to which of them was the smoothest. I decided on the hustla, as he was the one riding in the back. That chauffeur was suave as fuck though. Damn.


They were blasting old (I mean oooooold) James Brown songs on the Blaupunkt and sampling 31 flavors of Häagen-Dazs from half-eaten pint containers strewn about the car. The hustla offered me a lift. "You need to bring a baggy for your teef if you hang around here," he advised, gesturing about the famed pugilistic venue in which I stood. I got in and rode with them.