Ketchums x NYC – Day One

17 Nov

My train from Toledo, OH arrived to NYC right on schedule, at 7:35 p.m. My homie Kevin L. Clark, who I’m staying with in Brooklyn, had told me to take the A or the C train downtown to the Kingston-Throop stop, which is where he would meet me and show me the way to his crib. Despite me asking him several times to just meet me at the Penn Station and just roll with me back to his spot, I decided to just roll with the punches. First thing I saw on the train was some teenage black girl arguing back and forth with an older Hispanic woman.

Old Head: “Ooooh you’re lucky my daughter isn’t here, she’d fuck you up.”
Young’n: “You lucky my mama isn’t here! She woulda been slapped the shit out of you!”

“And from there, things took a turn for the worst.” (c) Death of Adam narrator

What Kevin didn’t tell me was that Kingston-Throop wasn’t the only stop I could’ve gotten off at. Another stop by his spot is the Nostrand stop, and I was busy looking for Kingston-Throop, which is the only stop that I knew of. Plus, for most of the train ride, I didn’t have any reception on my Blackberry. Long story short (word to Black Milk), I stayed on that damn A train and ended up in Queens before I could finally call Kevin and realize how out of the way I was going. A brotha like me doesn’t know the difference between Queens and Brooklyn in terms of distance – I essentially just know that they’re different boroughs, and that they’re places that different rappers are from. But yeah, a cat was going in the wrong direction. So I had to wait at some middle of nowhere ass train stop (not that I know what the middle of nowhere is, being that I’m in a city that I’ve never been to), having to go back uptown. Then I got off on the Nostrand stop, and I dragged my bags down the street to his spot.

All good, though. Nothing a lil’ Henney and cream soda couldn’t fix. Me, Kev, his roomate and his homegirl from out of town all went out to some random-ass bar, where we raised our eyebrows to merengue music, tried our best not to fall asleep (I was unsuccessful in such an effort; those pics will probably be on Facebook soon), and listened to an emo drunk go lay his heart on the line about getting hazed as a kid for being gay. Then we caught a cab home, I hopped on the couch, insta-sleep.

Dope.

I’ma start a continuously-evolving entry here called Ketchums’ NYC Observations here, and leave it at the top of the page for the next few days. It’ll almost be like my Twitter in nature, but it’ll be updated whenever I realize something that’s much different here than it is where I’m from.

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