In The Navy

My brother's gonna see the title of this blog post and think I'm talking about him, as he's currently an active member of that particular branch of the military. Sorry, B. It'll make sense in a bit.

I actually meant to share this story with you all weekend but I had a lot going on so I didn't get the chance. Friday was one of those days. The weather was nice, I was well rested, had a few dollars to splurge with and felt like gettin' out.  I got a call from my friend that he was down to roll so he was gonna pick me up around happy hour.  COOL.  Let the beautification process begin! You know the drill, fellas: SHIT, SHOWER, AND SHAVE! Although, I had a light lunch so the first part of that may have been bypassed. Shower and shave complete, my head is smoother than the operator on Sade's first hit single.  Iron clothes, check. Apply lotion, check. Apply body oil, which I have come to refer to as The Murder Weapon. It's no Sex Panther, but it's affective, nonetheless. NOW. The moment of truth. With my new fitness success, I've been able to fit very nicely into a few v-neck sweaters I purchased a while ago so I was rather excited to be able to show off the improved look. :) The navy blue Ralph Lauren sweater. I threw that bad boy on and stood in the bathroom mirror for a good 2 minutes. Checkin' out the fit. Deltoids and trapezius muscles poppin out the shoulders, turn to the side, pecs firm from hours of pushups. YES, I'm puttin it on thick. This is MY story! Ok, I'm done jocking myself. Put on the matching navy blue RL kicks to match the sweater and by the time my friend showed up, I thought I was so fly, I wanted to take MYSELF to bed...but THAT sounds gay, so, nevermind. (Not that there's anything wrong with that.) So. Let's recap. I'm wearing a navy blue v-neck sweater, khaki pants with creases sharp enough to cause a death in the next installment of Final Destination, and matching navy blue casual sneakers. In a word? I was "FlyAsAMuh-Fucka". Meet me at the bar, I'll be the brotha "in the navy." (See how I tied that in? LMAO) My ride is here. I'm walkin down the stairs and am anticipating the reaction from my boy. We tend to battle when it comes to sneakers and fresh outfits. I get to the truck and I see him before he sees me. My face drops. He's in the driver's seat, staring straight ahead, wearing a NAVY BLUE V-NECK SWEATER!!!!

All that planning, coordinating, AND PUSHUPS and this cat shows up wearing the same color/style sweater.  We're in front of my place so he suggests I go change. I say "FUCK YOU, BUDDY! MY SHOES MATCH!" I win. Except...he doesn't change clothes, so as soon as we get to the happy hour spot, we both lose. :( 

We arrive at the spot, 3000 Broadway. As we're walking to the door, I see my other friend, Shawn outside so I immediately come up with a damage control strategy. If Shawn walks into the bar with me, NOT my fashion twin, everything will be fine. I suggest this to Shawn, he looks and laughs at us for doing Twin Day Friday but agrees to help me out. We walk in, I sit down, Shawn disappears. The plan was for him to sit in between my twin so we don't look as stupid as I knew we would. I should have shared that plan with Shawn. Maybe he had  a date. Selfish ass. Now, I'm sittin at the bar, nervous because I know dude is coming into the bar any second and there's no way around the fact that there will be two light-skinned, bald-headed black men sitting side-by-side wearing matching navy blue v-neck sweaters. Calm down, Word. Folks are drinking and talking. Maybe they won't notice. I'm saying this to myself until I look to my right, at the bar. Two women are sitting together, looking, and pointing. I'm thinking perhaps they peeped the pecs, were blinded by the sunlight bouncing off my bald dome, or maybe they got a whiff of the murder weapon and the scent had them mesmerized. THEN IT HIT ME AGAIN. I gotta tell them that despite how it looks, we didn't PLAN to come out with matching outfits. Well, before I could lean over and get that explanation out, one of them leans in and yells: "YOU WEARING SAME SHIRT!" She was asian. I hope that came across in the quote. :) My friend immediately rips the sweater off and everyone in our perimeter was in on the joke of the night. As usual, I have no problem supplying the laughs at the party...I just didn't intend on being the navy blue butt of the bar's joke. Lucky for my friend, who asked that his name not be mentioned, he had on an Obama t-shirt underneath and we all know Obama t-shirts can be worn by black people as casual, formal, even churchwear so he never missed a beat. Further humiliation averted, problem solved. The moral of the story? President Obama's campaign was all about CHANGE. I'm usually all for change. Change is good. But I refuse to change when the shoes match and when all was said and done, I was the only brotha in the navy. :)