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I got off the R train at the Lawrence Street stop and was immediately accosted by a bum who called me an "Oreo muthafukka" when I wouldn't give him five bucks. Yeah, I was in the right place, and in no time I came across one of the many — and I do mean many — wig and hair accessories shops run by Koreans who keep the places over-lit to the point of being as blinding as the Mothership landing, preumably as a theft deterrent. Upon entering, I found an assortment of Black Power Fist Afro picks, not the exact model I wanted but in times of drought one must make do, so I bought two.
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Something told me that if I looked a little harder I'd find my preferred make and model, so I checked out at least seven drugstores and hair shops, once more finding either toddler-sized three-packs like yesterday or nothing at all, but then I found a place that had just what I needed in abundance, so I once more purchased two of them, just in case.
Four picks, four bucks. So while I may have had a happy ending to my quest, the Great New York City Afro Pick Drought of 2007 is far from over, so be prepared!
2 comments:
I like the one with B for Bunche--see I told you I'd practice. Bunche Bunche Bunche.
Jes
I want every post to contain the word "Negrolicious" from now on.
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