Da Ghetto

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Welcome To Da Desert Ya All

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“Awaight Everybody.

Another Week In The Bag.

Again, Ya All, Top Of Da Retention Pile. This Shift Rules. The Other Shifts Don’t Even Come Close. Nothing But Love For You Guys.

Now As Always, Monday Being Monday. I Need Ya All Here An Hour Early For Update And To See Who Won This Weeks Prize. A Five Star Dinner At Maxwell’s And Tickets To The Marlin Mets Game, Behind The Dugout Seats.

Next weeks Prize Is Off The Wire. So Ya All Have A Wonderful Weekend. I Want To Thank Each And Everyone Of You For Your Above And Beyond Hard Work And Dedication. Ya All The Best Customer Service Rep’s On The Planet. Be Safe. See Ya All Monday”.

I Walk Into My Office, Sit Down For A Sec In Front Of My Computer, Send Off The Week’s Reports To Corporate. Shut Down My Machine, Hit The Door.

“Hey Ryan”.

“Hey Dorthy”.

“Ryan, You Are Killing  Them. Your Numbers Are Through The Roof. Every Month. What Are Your Feeding Those People”?

“Wisdom And Love Ms. Dorthy. Goes A Long Way”.

“Well Mr. Hotshot, You Just Let Me Know If You Want To Spread Some Of That Love Around. Know What I Mean”.

“I’m Sure Your Husband Would Be Ecstatic With That”.

“Can’t Blame A Girl For Trying”.

“Guess You Can’t Ms. Dorthy. Have A Good One”.

“You As Well Ryan”.

I Proceed Down The Main Hall To The Side Exit That Will Land Me Onto Cypress Creek Road Where I Will Catch The Number 1 Bus Into Downtown Fort Lauderdale.

Tonight Was Going To Be The First Night That I Dis Embark The 1 At 9th And Sistrunk Boulevard Instead Of Taking The Number 1 Into Downtown Fort Lauderdale Terminal.

I Decided That Getting Off At 9th And Sistrunk And Then Walking Up Sistrunk To 12th Street, Proceed South On South West 12th Street, Take A Right At 5th, Then Cut Over To 14th. Walk Up 14th To Broward Boulevard. Cross Broward Boulevard Right Onto My Street, West Harmon. Then A Two Block Hop Skip And Jump Over To Harmon And West Las Olas Where My Apartment Sat On The Corner. Cutting 13 Minutes Off My Walking Time.

I Walk By The Side Entrance/Exit Security Desk Heading For The Steel Door Leading Out To The Parking Lot.

“Good Night Mr. Donovan”.

“Good Night Reggie. Have A Great Weekend My Man”.

“You As Well Mr. Donovan. Don’t Have To Tell You To Be Safe. Got Your Girl Veronica With You”?

“Right By My Side Just Like Always. Never Leave Home Without Her”.

Veronica Being My Colt 1911 A Semi Auto 45.

“She Be Just Like American Express Mr. Donovan”.

“Copy Dat Reggie. Be Good My Man”.

“No Promises There Mr. Donovan”.

With That I Hit The Door Leading Out To The Parking Lot Of Cypress Creek Commons Office Park, Proceed Down The Drive To Cypress Creek Road, Make A Left, Walking To The Intersection At Powerline Road.

Cross Powerline, Walk The Short Distance To The Bus Stop.

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Walk Over To The Bus Stop. Light Up A Camel Menthol Chill And Wait On The Number 1 Broward County Transit Bus.

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Six Minutes Later The Bus Pulls Up. I Board.

“Evening Sir”.

“Evening Driver. Having A Good Night”?

“So Far So Good Sir”.

“Beats The Hell Out Of The Alternative”.

“Got Dat Right”.

I Walk To The Rear Of The Bus, Take An Empty Seat, Window Side, Facing West.

The Bus Rolls At A Decent Speed South, Down Powerline. Very Little Traffic This Time Of Night.

The Scenery Changes From Brightly Lit, To Dingy City Gloom As Downtown Approaches.

I Pull The Cord That Signals The Driver To Stop Just Before Hitting 9th And Sistrunk Boulevard.

The Bus Pulls Up To The Stop At The Corner Of 9th Street And Sistrunk Boulevard. I Walk To The Front Of The Bus, Past The Driver To Begin My Exit Off The Bus.

I Turn to The Driver.

“Have A Nice Evening Driver. See You Tomorrow Night”.

“I Certainly Hope So Sir. You Know Where You Are Sir. Sure You Want To Get Off Here?”

“Yep. Have A Good One Driver. See Ya Tomorrow”.

“I Certainly Hope So Sir. Take Care”.

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With That I Dis Embark The Number 1. Walk A Few Steps On Over To Sistrunk Boulevard And Proceed West Up Sistrunk.

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I Proceed West Up Sistrunk Boulevard To North West 11th.

I Walk South Down North West 11th Over To North West 6th Street.

I Hit North West 12th For A Short Walk South To 3rd Street.

The Plan Was To Cut Over From 5th To North West 14th Street, Then South On 14th To Broward Boulevard, Cross Broward Boulevard Onto My Street West Harmon, Then Two Blocks Over To My Apartment On The Corner Of West Las Olas And Harmon.

Broward Boulevard Was The Separation Of My Early 20th Century, Now Yuppie Neighborhood And The ‘Sistrunk Hood’.

I Was Very Familiar With Sistrunk For The Fact That I Purchased My Cigarette’s In The Hood, Saving Myself Close To $2.00 A Pack.

Then Four Times A Month I Delivered Food Boxes To The Home Bound Folks In The Sistruck Neighborhood.

I As Well Attended Church In Sistrunk At  ‘Word Of Life Kingdom Situated In The Sistrunk Hood.

Leading The Service Every Sunday Morning Was The Beautiful, Anointed Pastor Rosetta Bryson

Miss You Way Much Pastor.

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The Neighborhood Was Very Quite That Evening, As Well Dimly Lit, For The Reason That Most Of The Street Lights Were Out.

Just As I Was Approaching 5th, Pretty Much Walking In The Middle Of The Street. It Happened.

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“Yo Man. You Straight”?

I Turn My Head Slightly Left About 20 Degrees.

Sitting In the Middle Of 12th, On A 20 Inch Bike, High Bar’s, Was A 12 To 13 Year Old Kid.

Blue Jordan High Tops, Blue Jeans, Blue New York Giants T-Shirt And A Blue New York Giants Cap.

Can Ya All Spell ‘Crip‘.

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“Yes Young Man. I Like Women”.

Time: 00:29

Temp: 83 Degrees

Humidity: Sky Da Fuck High

Visibility: Dark/Overcast

“Nawww Mannn. You Straight”?

“Yes Young Man. I Like Women”.

“Nawwww Mannn. You Straight. I Gots 1980’s Hard, I Gots Soft, I Gots Tweeze”.

So There We Are.

In The Middle Of South West 12th Street.

Looking At Each Other Cornea To Cornea.

Young Man Looking Up At Me From The Seat Of His 20 Inch Bike.

Myself Looking Down At Him.

Right There In The Middle Of The Damn Ass Hood.

“Oh. Awaight. You Slinging Dope”.

With That The Young Man Just Looks Back At Me, Staring Directly In My Eyes.

I’m Straight Up On Da Stare Back.

Just Like Dat For What I Know Must Have Seemed Like A Life Time For This Young Man.

I Let The Silence Do It’s Thang For A Minute.

Then In A Calm, Soft, Laid Back Tone I Say.

“I Ain’t Poe”.

Talk About A Sigh Of Relief.

Thought Kid Was Going To Keel Over Backwards Off Of His Bike From The Blow-back Of His Deep Sigh Of Relief.

“What If I Was Poe”?

“I Gettin Locked Up”.

“Yeah. Then What”?

“Man Get Me Out”?

“Oh. Awaight. So Now You Owe Da Man For Bail And Today’s Product And More Product That You Have To Sell To Make Up For Everything Else”.

“Yeah. So”?

“Awaight. Like Dis. Now You Back Out Here Again In 24. ‘Poe’ Not Stupid. Now He Bring You Down Again. Can You Spell Now You Double Fucked”.

“Wow. Dats Trippin”.

“Ya Thank? How Long You Been Out Here Slingin”?

“10 AM”.

“Oh. O.K. You On Da 24 Plus Plan”.

“Gotta Pile Dem $tack$”.

“When You Was A Shorty. What You Dream Of Being When You Grew Up”?

Even Though Young Man Was An Individual Who, Due To His Chronological Time In Space As It Were, Was For All Practical Matters, Considered A Shorty. I Was Not Going To Insult His Intelligence Or Honor For The Simple Fact That This Kid Was Out Here Slinging Drugs Just About 24 Hours A Day, Like A Man.

“I’m Real Good With Numbers. I Always Wanted To Design Airplanes And Rockets”.

No Shit. Talk About A Profound Response.

“Look I’m Gonna Be Straight With You. On Da 100. You Can Still Accomplish The Dream You Had When You Were A Shorty”.

“How I Do Dat”?

“First You Gotta Get Up Out Da Game. Then Go To The School. Talk To The Principal. Be Real With Her. Tell Her What You Wanna Do. Now You Need To Understand Something Serious”.

“What Dat”?

“You Will Be Bringin Hate From All Over The Place Down On You. The Man Really Be Hating On You For No Longer Lining His Pockets Boss Hog. Then Everyone Else. This Will Be By Far The Hardest Muthu Fuckin Thang You Have Ever Done Until The Next Hardest Thang Comes Along.

“Damnnnn. I Can Do It”.

“Yeah. Only You Can”.

“Wow Man. Thank You”.

“Don’t Thank Me Young Man. Thank Yourself When You Do It.

With That, The Young Man Rode Out Into The Night.

This New Way Home From Work, Not Only Began A New Chapter In My Life, But An Entire Actual Book.

That’s All I Got.

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Desert Love Ya All.

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Ryan. Out.

Image result for Cool Custom cadillac Lowriders

1959 Cadillac Low Rider    Sittin On Chrome

Dis How We Do It On Da West Side Da Best Side

2Pac – To live and die in LA (Dirty Version) [HD].





























































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