XXXII

A little over a year ago I found myself at Cordova Mall, looking to fill a void.  I ended up in Urban Vibes, a shoe store that would find itself out of business within the coming year.  As soon as I rounded the corner into the store, a pair of purple lizard Baby Phat ankle boots caught my eye and melted my heart.
I stood there looking at the $170 price tag (you're paying for the name at that point), when out of nowhere a grizzly bear of a black man walked up behind me and bellowed out "Hey there, white woman."  Noticing that I was the only white woman in the store, I turned around and greeted him with bright eyes and the biggest closed-mouth smile.  He started to mumble something but then turned around and walked out of the store. 
Not three minutes later, as I was trying on my purple BabyPhats, the same man returned.  He meandered over to a lady with ham hocks for thighs.  She was looking at some yellow heels.  I heard him slowly say to her, under his breath, "Girl.....my dick hard.  What's it gonna take for you to come home with me?"  She didn't look at him, but promptly retorted with "You buy me dees shoes..."  a few seconds passed and he said "oh-kay."
Sadly enough, I didn't get the boots.

XXXI

Telegram to Hip Hop: 

Dear Hip Hop (stop) This shit has gone too far (stop) Please see that mixer and turntables are returned to Kool Herc (stop) The ghettos are dancing off beat (stop) The master of ceremonies have forgotten that they were once slaves and have neglected the occasion of this ceremony (stop) Perhaps we should not have encouraged them to use cordless microphones, for they have walked too far from the source and are emitting a lesser frequency (stop) Please inform all interested parties that cash nor murder have been added to the list of elements (stop) We are discontinuing our current line of braggadocio, in light of the current trend in "realness" (stop) As an alternative, we will be confiscating weed supplies and replacing them with magic mushrooms, in hopes of helping niggas see beyond their reality (stop) Give my regards to Brooklyn.

-Saul Williams, Telegram