A day in the life of...

• I can't find an Italian Beef nowhere. My people's from home know exactly what I'm talking about. You see, this is the ultimate of cuisines in Chicago. It starts with a rump roast with a nice amount of fatty marbeling. It's slow roasted in spices and its own juices just until its a bit before fork tender. It's thinly sliced and set back in the juices and seasonings to get nice and tender. This process takes at least 14 hours. The meat is then put atop crusty french bread. My personal favorite: garlic toasted french bread, with the sandwich dipped in juice until the bread is soaked, topped with American and Provolone cheeses and drizzled with hot pepper oil and vinagerette. Yup, that's how you do it. Can I find a spot over here on the East Coast...nope.
• Target...is a fool! I went to Target over here and let me tell you, nothing matched. NOTHING! If the price was 24.99 on the sign, the product was literally a different price. I argued the clerk and the manager to give me that shower curtain for the $14.99 price on the sign, they told me it rang up as $19.99 and I'd have to pay that price. After 10 minutes, a brotha saved $5.00. Lesson to all - as the consumer, you control things! If they wanted to control the price, they'd control the way they stock their inventory.
• Resturants...are nasty as EVER! Plain and simple...why would I buy fried chicken from a place that has Middle Eastern people in the background. No offense to the people, but they don't know much about frying chicken. That's evident to the non-existent lunch rush they experience daily. Not to mention, if they can't keep the floor clean, do you think they can actually clean a chicken thigh without any problem?
• Parking...please let's not mention this. My rental truck was stolen. My car was also towed and impounded for parking in a LEGAL parking spot. Again, after some conversations, I was able to get them to waive all the fees and give me my car. I picked it up - everything was in tact EXCEPT for that chakly writing they put on your front windshield. I have to get some old school potion to get rid of all those marks. That's going to be fun.

Beyond that, my new home on the East Coast is cool. I must say, the East Coast does have the best view of the boys. Everywhere you look, there are boys. And not just ordinary people, I'm talking about "damn, that nigga if fine" type of boys. So...that's hot! I've gotten my feet wet in a few social aspects of the city, being EXTREMELY careful of course - good results, that's all I wanna say - lol.

But let me get this off my chest. Now that I'm officialy out of the Corporate America world, I must get this off my chest. I've been holding it in for the past 7 years of my Corporate America stint. And don't act like yall don't do this either, but - taking dump was extremely difficult. No for real, you may call it something different. I've heard, the number 2, laying down your burdens, feeling God stretching out in you, the BG's (Bubble Guts), combination abomination...I mean, hey - however you identify it, it's difficult to do in Corporate America. Why? Well, I don't know - I think it's moreso fear of the unknown. You know, fear that people will see you going in the bathroom and then see you coming out 15 minutes later...in their mind, you know their thinking "damn, this nigga just shitted...ha, ha, ha." Or maybe it's because the other Black folks, especially some of the cute men will catch you in the action of release - and you become embarrassed. Well, whatever it is, just join me in my celebration. I have been liberated. I am free. I no longer have to do the boo-boo scout walk (that walk where you go in the bathroom to see who's in there and if someone is, then you act like you have to pee or you just wash your hands and leave. And all the while, your stomach is about to bubble over and kill you cuz you just ate moo-shoos and beef and broocoli for lunch). I no longer have to wonder who's in the bathroom with me by listening to the voices while I'm on the toilet. I was so bad, that i'd be done dookeying (LOL) and I'd hear some brothas come into the bathroom, I'd sit there until I knew for sure they were gone. There was a few incidents where I was caught - and I walked as fast as I could back to my cubicle. But join me in celebation...it's over!

This entry was posted on Friday, June 03, 2005 at 7:31 AM. You can skip to the end and leave a response.