This is the last part of the New York trip. The ending is long over due. Probably the best story that happened while we were there and it's bout time it was told.
After a long day of exploring and seeing new things and eating, we all went back to the hotel room. Superman had escaped and after a quick text to see where he was, he came to the hotel to get me and we walked a ways down the block to go to a little bar we'd spotted during the day.
Not a lot going on in said bar. A guy or two having a drink to themselves and then us. I grabbed a small high top nearest the street window and Superman went to the barkeep to get us a round. He came back to the table. He looked calm; beat from the day. We began in small intimate talk when he looked up behind me and had a confused look on his face. I looked out the window to where his stare was and I could see a tranny on the phone, smoking a cigarette staring in the window. Staring hard.
"Just don't look baby," I coaxed, "just look at me." He muttered somethin about them mean muggin and being a douche, then we began our small chatter again. Within five to ten minutes the tranny along with a gaggle of them came in and gave the bar an entirely new aura. Instead of a quiet little hole in the wall, now the place was loud and rambunctious.
They sat at the table next to us, creating a little irritation in our small corner. Suggesting that we leave, Superman shook his head slightly and insisted it'd be alright. We were chill, just had to talk a little louder.
After the first round, Superman sent me back up to the barkeep. "Another round?" He asked. It took me by surprise. At first I had to register in my head what he just said, hearing for the first time his very strong Irish accent. I also forgot we were the only ones drinking other than the one guy at the bar, the second one leaving soon after the gaggle arrived. After a quick, "Huh?" I nodded, "yes sir, please."
He began with the long island for Superman. When he went to make my Tom Collins, I made small talk about what kind of gin he used. Something I hadn't heard of. That's New York. I complimented his bartending skill and the taste of the drinks. "Sometimes bartenders just throw shit together to get you fucked up. I actually appreciated you took the time to look what you're doing." He agreed and handed me the round I took back to our little nook, sliding past the jumpy party.
When I sat down, he told me to hang tight as he needed to run to the Men's. I fiddled with my phone and listened to the ambient clutter in front of me. Looking at them, I wasn't quite sure if they were really trannies, or just cross dressers. I mean. Clearly they were men. But just in colourful corsets and wigs and heels. Nothing else really suggested anything overly feminine. There were a couple of guys with them in some street clothes, everyone hanging on each other laughing and being friendly.
Superman comes back and I start talkin but he has a disappointing look on his face. He sits down, carefully takes his wallet out of his pocket, looks into it, shakes his head, and puts it back into his pocket. For a brief moment he clasps his hands on the table, then takes out his phone.
"Everything okay, peaches?" I asked, not sure what he was concerned about.
"I just got pick pocketed."
"WHAT? WHO?"
I'm already in beast mode.
He takes a sip of his drink, "The one walking back. That one."
I look at the tranny walking up to the group, loud and laughing.
"What? You sure? What happened?"
He puts his phone down for a moment, and very calmly tells me what happened when he went to the loo.
"I was at the urinal right? And I forgot the rule about putting your wallet in your front pocket in the city. Well, when I was standing there doing my thing, it walked up behind me and started feelin on me talkin bout, oh hey there you look good and all this shit and I was like, standin there holdin my junk you know, so I shrugged 'em off like, yo dude, get the fuck off! Well, I went to wash my hands, not even thinkin of it, and I think that's when they slipped my wallet back in because the same thing happened and was feelin up on me again. I felt it that time and I knew to check when I got back to the table. I'm short $25. That was all the money in my wallet. For sure. "
I'm now watching like a hawk, "What you gonna do baby?" And no sooner that I said this, the tranny walks up and tries to be all friendly, "Heeyyyyyy you are so cute" and tries to kiss Superman on the cheek. He ain't havin it. Then reaches across the table and grabs my face, "Oh you so beautiful too what is up tonight!" I back away, shakin my head, "no no sweetheart," and look to him for the next move. He just sits, sipping his drink, hands clasped on the table. The person walks away again and I ask a second time. "Baby what you gonna do? Do you wanna leave? I can whoop his ass. He's still a man, so I won't get in trouble," i snicker at him.
"No baby, we're just gonna wait. Just wait baby." So I chill, and just a few moments later, the gaggle is whispering and they're walking out. He takes another sip. "You know. I wonder if that's why he wasn't staring in the window before coming in here." I nod, still looking at him concerned. "Go get the tab," he tells me, "leave a tip."
I do as I'm told, and by the time I get back to the table and give him his card back the suspect comes walking back in, struggling hard in the heels. Superman takes a drink, gets up, and approaches." My eyes are wide as fuck when I witness this guy-
Okay okay wait wait wait. For readers to fully comprehend this next scene, y'all gotta grasp what it's lookin like to ME. What I know this man to be, and what I am about to watch with my own two eyes. Superman is one of those like-able guys. Always smiling, joking, can't really meet someone who doesn't like him. Short fucker too. Well. Short to me ;) Taller than 5'5' but I wouldn't give him any 5'10. He's got a muscle build but hides it under these bourgeois ass clothes that suggest he's a straight up nerd. So. In one corner of the ring, you have THIS guy.
In the other corner you have some taller-than-six-foot-oh-shit-my-adams-apple-is-showing guy with some kind of horse hair weave and all I can remember anymore of the outfit were the damn pink shoes. In a dress.
So. Now that you have the picture, let the confrontation commence.
Walks straight up to RuPaul, "hey how you doin," and starts feelin for the pockets on this guy! The tranny then gets a little nervous, "Oh hey there, excuse me" and is trying to grab for the purse that was left. "Yeah, remember me? Bathroom? Yeah I'm gonna need my money back," as he continues to frisk this guy! I have no idea whether to laugh, or help trap, but I take another sip of my drink in amazement. "I dunno about that" was the reply before trying to dash.
RuPaul dips out and Superman summons me. Ask no questions, I get the fuck up and follow suit. Just as we are getting to the exit, Remmington shows up. "Go back that way," Superman says, and we all exit the bar. The gaggle is just chillin outside smokin in front of the 24/7 Subway and Superman approaches the group without skipping a beat.
"Hey guys. How's it going? So, I was in the bathroom the same time your homeboy was in there and after gettin felt up at the urinal I was missing some money. I would like that money back, please."
A couple of the street clothes guys scoffed, "Man, money gets stolen all the time around here, just cut your losses and go home."
"I don't think you understand," he says a little more firmly, "I want my money back. And someone will pay me tonight."
All the while this is happening, I look to Remmington, and almost in a dull whisper, "So you're the one he text?"
"Yeah. Said we might get in a brawl tonight and I needed to get here asap. Over how much though?"
I just shook my head, "Motha is crazy, ain't he?"
"Never a dull moment." Which seemed to be the group motto.
A few more words were shared, and at that time, the accused was talkin about not takin any money, blah blah blah, and walked straight up to me, mid conversation, putting two fingers on my clavicle with the mouth inches from my face, "Can you calm your man down, I didn't take no money?"
As soon as the fingers came at me was as soon as I put the hand up with a lean back, very calmly and firmly stating, "Don't you fuckin touch me." That was the warning. Momma always taught me, you better not be the first one to throw a punch, but if they so much as lay a finger on you, you better whoop their ass. I felt that whoop ass comin, and RuPaul didn't want to be the one that laid the fingers.
Rupaul backed up, and looked at me crazy then looked to Remmington, "Oh they all crazy huh! Are you gonna get angry too!?" Remmington just shrugged back, "I just got here. Just watching." "Well I didn't take no money, I gots my own money, mmhmm, I don't need no body money." Superman still talking to the gaggle, most of them had left to go inside the Subway, one guy in particular, a little skinny fuck who's pants could use a belt, looked pretty scared. "Oh nah, man I ain't even from here, I just met them at the club, dawg, I ain't even from here! I ain't gotcha money." A few responses went on like this, none of the gaggle claiming to know the suspect.
"Baby, uhm, baby it's walkin away," I say, trying not to seem overly eager about RuPaul makin a dash up the block in the direction of our hotel. He's caught up in talkin to the group, and by the time it's all said and done with, Superman's final words were, "Well if you don't know him, and you don't know him, and you don't know him, and everyone just met him at the bar or club or down the street, then no one will mind if I take this by force." After addressing the group, Superman turns and I notify him that RuPaul was already out of sight, all the way down the block.
Superman starts hoofing it, military style down the block. "He's determined, isn't he?" Remmington nods, "Yeah, well. That's him for ya." We see that he got to the end of the block and is looking either way up and down the street to see any signs of life. "I'm sorry darlin, I don't see anyone."
I've never seen this side before. His face isn't smiling, his body isn't relaxed; you can tell in his clenched fists. "Forget him man, let's just go back to the room and get some rest." Superman nods, looking defeated. "That just pisses me off. That's really fucked up." "Yeah but it was only $25 man, could have been worse," Remmington says. No sooner than us turning into the first glass doors of the hotel do we see RuPaul, coming down the inner escalator, hanging on some honky ass business guy. I pointed and said something. "Well alright then" and Superman rushes in there. I didn't leave the little front glass room yet, just watched from inside but I could hear them clear as day.
"I told you I was getting my money back. I'm not gonna ask you nicely again," He says really firmly, rushing RuPaul against a column, the accused clutching the purse in their front. "I mean I can give you some money if that's what you want, I mean I think I have $25 right here." "What the fuck ever, just give me my money back." Without even digging in a wallet or to the bottom of the purse or a pocket or bra or ANYTHING indicating they would have somewhere to keep money, the tranny easily opens the purse and right on top pulls out a crisp $20 and $5. "That's all I have, if you want it you can have it," RuPaul cowers, as if just doing something nobel. "Oh what the fuck ever, keep the damn five," and walks away, never having to lay a finger on anyone.
I then walk in with Remmington, all three of us ascending the escalator. "Well damn," Remmington raised his eyebrows, "that was easy enough." "Yeah, long day," and Superman, as if flipped by a switch was back to his normal demeanor. "Well I think I'm gonna take a shower when we get back to the room, we gotta get up early tomorrow and head back." "Yeah, I'm tired today," and I'm watching these two in amazement. As if nothing happened, they're just carrying on conversation like they just watched a golf tournament.
We get to the elevator and I lose it. Superman smiles at me, "What you laughin about love?" puts his hands in his pockets with a cheesey grin on his face.
I'm shaking my head, smiling. "Who the fuck goes to New York, gets pick pocketed, no, no, fuck that, who the fuck goes to New York, gets pick pocketed by a damn tranny, and then after some confrontation gets their money back? WHO THE FUCK GETS THEIR MONEY BACK??" The guys just look at each other and shrug like I'm a fuckin crazy person.
We get showered up when we get back and get some rest. I went to bed smiling and still can't get over that.
He karate kicks a ceiling in. Runs across the New York streets for some bourgeois ass natural-hipster-chic meeting. And gets a refund on a pick pocket. Who the fuck is this guy? Sounds like someone crazy enough to keep up with Thibs.
After a long day of exploring and seeing new things and eating, we all went back to the hotel room. Superman had escaped and after a quick text to see where he was, he came to the hotel to get me and we walked a ways down the block to go to a little bar we'd spotted during the day.
Not a lot going on in said bar. A guy or two having a drink to themselves and then us. I grabbed a small high top nearest the street window and Superman went to the barkeep to get us a round. He came back to the table. He looked calm; beat from the day. We began in small intimate talk when he looked up behind me and had a confused look on his face. I looked out the window to where his stare was and I could see a tranny on the phone, smoking a cigarette staring in the window. Staring hard.
"Just don't look baby," I coaxed, "just look at me." He muttered somethin about them mean muggin and being a douche, then we began our small chatter again. Within five to ten minutes the tranny along with a gaggle of them came in and gave the bar an entirely new aura. Instead of a quiet little hole in the wall, now the place was loud and rambunctious.
They sat at the table next to us, creating a little irritation in our small corner. Suggesting that we leave, Superman shook his head slightly and insisted it'd be alright. We were chill, just had to talk a little louder.
After the first round, Superman sent me back up to the barkeep. "Another round?" He asked. It took me by surprise. At first I had to register in my head what he just said, hearing for the first time his very strong Irish accent. I also forgot we were the only ones drinking other than the one guy at the bar, the second one leaving soon after the gaggle arrived. After a quick, "Huh?" I nodded, "yes sir, please."
He began with the long island for Superman. When he went to make my Tom Collins, I made small talk about what kind of gin he used. Something I hadn't heard of. That's New York. I complimented his bartending skill and the taste of the drinks. "Sometimes bartenders just throw shit together to get you fucked up. I actually appreciated you took the time to look what you're doing." He agreed and handed me the round I took back to our little nook, sliding past the jumpy party.
When I sat down, he told me to hang tight as he needed to run to the Men's. I fiddled with my phone and listened to the ambient clutter in front of me. Looking at them, I wasn't quite sure if they were really trannies, or just cross dressers. I mean. Clearly they were men. But just in colourful corsets and wigs and heels. Nothing else really suggested anything overly feminine. There were a couple of guys with them in some street clothes, everyone hanging on each other laughing and being friendly.
Superman comes back and I start talkin but he has a disappointing look on his face. He sits down, carefully takes his wallet out of his pocket, looks into it, shakes his head, and puts it back into his pocket. For a brief moment he clasps his hands on the table, then takes out his phone.
"Everything okay, peaches?" I asked, not sure what he was concerned about.
"I just got pick pocketed."
"WHAT? WHO?"
I'm already in beast mode.
He takes a sip of his drink, "The one walking back. That one."
I look at the tranny walking up to the group, loud and laughing.
"What? You sure? What happened?"
He puts his phone down for a moment, and very calmly tells me what happened when he went to the loo.
"I was at the urinal right? And I forgot the rule about putting your wallet in your front pocket in the city. Well, when I was standing there doing my thing, it walked up behind me and started feelin on me talkin bout, oh hey there you look good and all this shit and I was like, standin there holdin my junk you know, so I shrugged 'em off like, yo dude, get the fuck off! Well, I went to wash my hands, not even thinkin of it, and I think that's when they slipped my wallet back in because the same thing happened and was feelin up on me again. I felt it that time and I knew to check when I got back to the table. I'm short $25. That was all the money in my wallet. For sure. "
I'm now watching like a hawk, "What you gonna do baby?" And no sooner that I said this, the tranny walks up and tries to be all friendly, "Heeyyyyyy you are so cute" and tries to kiss Superman on the cheek. He ain't havin it. Then reaches across the table and grabs my face, "Oh you so beautiful too what is up tonight!" I back away, shakin my head, "no no sweetheart," and look to him for the next move. He just sits, sipping his drink, hands clasped on the table. The person walks away again and I ask a second time. "Baby what you gonna do? Do you wanna leave? I can whoop his ass. He's still a man, so I won't get in trouble," i snicker at him.
"No baby, we're just gonna wait. Just wait baby." So I chill, and just a few moments later, the gaggle is whispering and they're walking out. He takes another sip. "You know. I wonder if that's why he wasn't staring in the window before coming in here." I nod, still looking at him concerned. "Go get the tab," he tells me, "leave a tip."
I do as I'm told, and by the time I get back to the table and give him his card back the suspect comes walking back in, struggling hard in the heels. Superman takes a drink, gets up, and approaches." My eyes are wide as fuck when I witness this guy-
Okay okay wait wait wait. For readers to fully comprehend this next scene, y'all gotta grasp what it's lookin like to ME. What I know this man to be, and what I am about to watch with my own two eyes. Superman is one of those like-able guys. Always smiling, joking, can't really meet someone who doesn't like him. Short fucker too. Well. Short to me ;) Taller than 5'5' but I wouldn't give him any 5'10. He's got a muscle build but hides it under these bourgeois ass clothes that suggest he's a straight up nerd. So. In one corner of the ring, you have THIS guy.
In the other corner you have some taller-than-six-foot-oh-shit-my-adams-apple-is-showing guy with some kind of horse hair weave and all I can remember anymore of the outfit were the damn pink shoes. In a dress.
So. Now that you have the picture, let the confrontation commence.
Walks straight up to RuPaul, "hey how you doin," and starts feelin for the pockets on this guy! The tranny then gets a little nervous, "Oh hey there, excuse me" and is trying to grab for the purse that was left. "Yeah, remember me? Bathroom? Yeah I'm gonna need my money back," as he continues to frisk this guy! I have no idea whether to laugh, or help trap, but I take another sip of my drink in amazement. "I dunno about that" was the reply before trying to dash.
RuPaul dips out and Superman summons me. Ask no questions, I get the fuck up and follow suit. Just as we are getting to the exit, Remmington shows up. "Go back that way," Superman says, and we all exit the bar. The gaggle is just chillin outside smokin in front of the 24/7 Subway and Superman approaches the group without skipping a beat.
"Hey guys. How's it going? So, I was in the bathroom the same time your homeboy was in there and after gettin felt up at the urinal I was missing some money. I would like that money back, please."
A couple of the street clothes guys scoffed, "Man, money gets stolen all the time around here, just cut your losses and go home."
"I don't think you understand," he says a little more firmly, "I want my money back. And someone will pay me tonight."
All the while this is happening, I look to Remmington, and almost in a dull whisper, "So you're the one he text?"
"Yeah. Said we might get in a brawl tonight and I needed to get here asap. Over how much though?"
I just shook my head, "Motha is crazy, ain't he?"
"Never a dull moment." Which seemed to be the group motto.
A few more words were shared, and at that time, the accused was talkin about not takin any money, blah blah blah, and walked straight up to me, mid conversation, putting two fingers on my clavicle with the mouth inches from my face, "Can you calm your man down, I didn't take no money?"
As soon as the fingers came at me was as soon as I put the hand up with a lean back, very calmly and firmly stating, "Don't you fuckin touch me." That was the warning. Momma always taught me, you better not be the first one to throw a punch, but if they so much as lay a finger on you, you better whoop their ass. I felt that whoop ass comin, and RuPaul didn't want to be the one that laid the fingers.
Rupaul backed up, and looked at me crazy then looked to Remmington, "Oh they all crazy huh! Are you gonna get angry too!?" Remmington just shrugged back, "I just got here. Just watching." "Well I didn't take no money, I gots my own money, mmhmm, I don't need no body money." Superman still talking to the gaggle, most of them had left to go inside the Subway, one guy in particular, a little skinny fuck who's pants could use a belt, looked pretty scared. "Oh nah, man I ain't even from here, I just met them at the club, dawg, I ain't even from here! I ain't gotcha money." A few responses went on like this, none of the gaggle claiming to know the suspect.
"Baby, uhm, baby it's walkin away," I say, trying not to seem overly eager about RuPaul makin a dash up the block in the direction of our hotel. He's caught up in talkin to the group, and by the time it's all said and done with, Superman's final words were, "Well if you don't know him, and you don't know him, and you don't know him, and everyone just met him at the bar or club or down the street, then no one will mind if I take this by force." After addressing the group, Superman turns and I notify him that RuPaul was already out of sight, all the way down the block.
Superman starts hoofing it, military style down the block. "He's determined, isn't he?" Remmington nods, "Yeah, well. That's him for ya." We see that he got to the end of the block and is looking either way up and down the street to see any signs of life. "I'm sorry darlin, I don't see anyone."
I've never seen this side before. His face isn't smiling, his body isn't relaxed; you can tell in his clenched fists. "Forget him man, let's just go back to the room and get some rest." Superman nods, looking defeated. "That just pisses me off. That's really fucked up." "Yeah but it was only $25 man, could have been worse," Remmington says. No sooner than us turning into the first glass doors of the hotel do we see RuPaul, coming down the inner escalator, hanging on some honky ass business guy. I pointed and said something. "Well alright then" and Superman rushes in there. I didn't leave the little front glass room yet, just watched from inside but I could hear them clear as day.
"I told you I was getting my money back. I'm not gonna ask you nicely again," He says really firmly, rushing RuPaul against a column, the accused clutching the purse in their front. "I mean I can give you some money if that's what you want, I mean I think I have $25 right here." "What the fuck ever, just give me my money back." Without even digging in a wallet or to the bottom of the purse or a pocket or bra or ANYTHING indicating they would have somewhere to keep money, the tranny easily opens the purse and right on top pulls out a crisp $20 and $5. "That's all I have, if you want it you can have it," RuPaul cowers, as if just doing something nobel. "Oh what the fuck ever, keep the damn five," and walks away, never having to lay a finger on anyone.
I then walk in with Remmington, all three of us ascending the escalator. "Well damn," Remmington raised his eyebrows, "that was easy enough." "Yeah, long day," and Superman, as if flipped by a switch was back to his normal demeanor. "Well I think I'm gonna take a shower when we get back to the room, we gotta get up early tomorrow and head back." "Yeah, I'm tired today," and I'm watching these two in amazement. As if nothing happened, they're just carrying on conversation like they just watched a golf tournament.
We get to the elevator and I lose it. Superman smiles at me, "What you laughin about love?" puts his hands in his pockets with a cheesey grin on his face.
I'm shaking my head, smiling. "Who the fuck goes to New York, gets pick pocketed, no, no, fuck that, who the fuck goes to New York, gets pick pocketed by a damn tranny, and then after some confrontation gets their money back? WHO THE FUCK GETS THEIR MONEY BACK??" The guys just look at each other and shrug like I'm a fuckin crazy person.
We get showered up when we get back and get some rest. I went to bed smiling and still can't get over that.
He karate kicks a ceiling in. Runs across the New York streets for some bourgeois ass natural-hipster-chic meeting. And gets a refund on a pick pocket. Who the fuck is this guy? Sounds like someone crazy enough to keep up with Thibs.
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