The story goes something like this, but I’ll leave it to a young SP to tell the story.It’s 1992 and this summer I busted my ass working more jobs than any other West Indian, and certainly any Jamaicans. Yes, I had 5 jobs and I was running around like a crazy man, but I had a “prize” that I had my eyes set on and there was no stopping me.
Cousin Anthony had the ill Chevy Blazer that he jerry-rigged the stereo system in and even though it was a little rough around the edges, he was riding. Shoot, at the age of 19, it was all about riding around in a whip, dressing fly and pulling girls.
Anthony and I bumped around Brooklyn whenever we could, but I was in full-effect mode because I had a plan to get my own Blazer, but not the 2-door joint, I wanted the 4-door joint in money green- Chevy S-10 Blazer.
I worked as a production assistant and the money was good. At $100 a day, the money was right on point. The only issue was that a day could be 8-hours or it could be 16-hours, but it was fun and the folks that I worked with were cool as hell. The fools even trusted me so much that they let me take the production box truck home to Brooklyn with well over $1 million in equipment in the rear. Crazy, right?
So, I saved money like a T-rex with short arms and every dollar I made went into the top drawer in the dresser. I was stacking paper like there was no tomorrow.
When I wasn’t working as a production assistant, I worked at the Brooklyn Plaza Medical Center, located right on Fulton Street and minutes away from the Albee Square Mall and the clothing and sneaker spots.
Everyday for lunch, I’d go across the street to the bodega run by some Middle Eastern cats and get a smoked turkey and American cheese sub and Arizona Iced Tea for $3.00. It was all about saving money, but looking back I should have take a sandwich from home for lunch and saved that $15.00 per week. Oh, well such is life.
When the day rolled around and I went to the car dealership and saw the Blazer, parked on the showroom floor all polished up and Armor Alled out, I knew exactly the whip for me.
With $3 thousand in my pockets, burning a whole in them to buy clothes and kicks, I put the money down on the Blazer and convinced my Aunt C to take out a loan on the ride; it was on like Donkey Kong!
When we picked it up on July 30, 1992, it had 400 miles on the odometer and the new-car smell was mesmerizing. I was the MAN!
There was no way folks in Brooklyn or Smithfield (RI) would be able to stand it!
Damn! Is that really you? I almost didn't recognize that cool cat holding up that $$green 4-hatch Whip...wow. You are the man, and that story just goes to show why we get along so well. I was rolling in the 87' Toyota Xcab that you never saw...that had the bumpin system with all the toys in it. I miss those days and that ride. Be cool and thank you for sharing that story...one that I didn't know.
ReplyDeleteGMCK
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