Thursday Night Blaxploitation

/Bark bark bark
Here in rapper's paradise, the durty south, thursday night has become the new friday night because there are too damn many people living up in here. A dinner date on Friday night means you have the pleasure of waiting at the bar for an hour, hour and a half, while you drink 15 dollar half filled shots and endure layers and layers of vapid one sided cell phone conversations; priss-pots in gauchos, stillettos and flat ironed hair shouting above the din while flipping back strands of hair with fifty thousand dollar french manicures. Anyway, people are FED UP with this congestion scene and so many events are now on thursday nights.

I never want to leave the studio. everytime we go anywhere it ends up involving MONEY i shouldnt spend being spent. "its time to knock off and get ready" said Freya as she leaned around the corner. our friend, the video artist, was having his opening.

"let's don't go. send flowers instead" said moi, ha ha, thats clever, i thought: get credit for caring without actually having to BE there! Freya frowned and looked pitful. I relented.

Derrick came by the studio to pick us up. He and Freya thought it would be fun to get in the props closet and pimp ourselves out........bring some more "color" to the show. No no no no! said I. But Freya was undeterred and I found myself twenty minutes later in bell bottoms, platforms, a big collared satiny shirt, ropes and ropes of chain, and a badly shaped dreadlock wig with purple streaks. "this shit reeks of mothballs" i whined. Nobody cared.

"we need to find a source for fake gold teeth!" said derrick as he slipped on a fake nose ring. "i need a flashier grill." Freya offered to paint one of his teeth but he wisely declined.

"i'm not going anywhere like this" said i, and pulled off the dreadlocks in a flourish of disgust.

Freya howled "No. keep that on! you look like lenny kravitz! Sexy! but you need some pale tinted shades."

"I'd rather go as Hendrix" i said.

"But that's not right for the theme!" she said in that "you-are-an-idiot" tone.

she pulled out some big bug eyed pair, looked like something sophia loren might wear, or a car pool mom, and i made the universal lateral karate chop hand signal of no.and.that.is.final. Freya wore a crocheted number with fur at the collar and some swirly printed scarf tied on her head and i was instantly reminded of the meddling zodiac crazed girlfriend from spinal tap. But she was adorable, and i said nothing.

"what about food" i asked knowing that the gallery would have only cheap chardonnay and some kind off skanked out spread on a dry cracker.

"let's go to the new Whole Foods and eat a bunch of samples and leave" said Derrick the cheap ass scammer. Freya loved that idea for she had heard much about this catherdral of food, supposedly the biggest baddest one in the southeast. We went.

We sampled pineapple mango salsas, flank steak, chick peas and something in a vinigrette, biscottis, strawberries, a terrible terrible mushroom pate thing. cake. blackend shrimp.
This isn't so bad I thought, good opportunity to save a few bucks. all while traipsing around in this ghetto fabulous gear. I was down to (mercifully) the shirt, the chains and my own understated shades. Gone were the platforms, wig and fedora. Still, we pulled a few or more second looks from the lilly whites shopping there. Derrick managed to get into a little tiff with a girl who's t-shirt read "advanced soul" in glitter as i felt a familiar tingle in my back pocket.

I looked around and my eyes found freya. i gasped in horror as i realized she was standing before a display of dr houscka beauty products. I looked at her cart (she got a cart!!!????) which was already holding an african shopping basket and some expensive looking cut flowers. meaning, not carnations. Derrick materialized before me, having now driven away any female within a 5 mile radius, he was ready to go. I saw his mouth moving but all i could hear was ch-ching ch-ching ch-ching as i watched freya pick up one bottle after another. good, she just put one back.

81 dollars and 17 cents later we left with NO FOOD and headed south on the main drag of this town to the gallery disctrict. We arrived and struggled to park. I dont know why i would be annoyed it is always this way but i seem to react with anger over the parking situation every time as if it was new.

the theme of the show was "blaxploitation and urban stereotypes" but the show itself was called "HuggyBear". The work consisted of loops and scenes from classics such as "shaft" "foxy brown" "coffee" "blacula" "carwash" "cleopatra jones" "superfly" "mandingo" and others. The scenes were doctored up with overlays of al jolson type stuff, amos and andy and characters from gone with the wind. The woka-woka-woka guitar licks from "shaft" played over and over, sometimes distorted and other times blended in with some funny famous lines like "im gonna get you sucka!" from the featured movies.

"How the hell does he make money with this shit" Derrick asked. I shrugged.

The gallery was set up like a living room/flop house/crack den kinda thing with plastic guns laying on coffee tables, and black light posters of naked african princesses and bad-ass soul sistas. (remember in the movie "the shining" the posters the scatman cruthers character had on his walls? same thing: submissive, willing chocolate yummies with afros the size of playballs.)

The video loops were played on the screens of old seventies era televisions with drink rings and filled and filthy ashtrays on the surface. No detail was forgotten, except for the appearance of somebody's Medea-like mama shrieking "get a job!!!!"

It was a good show. Lots of other patrons were garbed out in pimpwear and freya gave me that smart aleck look of "see?"
Derrick ended up wanting to stay, so Freya and I headed home in a cab. We played a word game: how many men's names are euphenisms for "penis"? we came up with shaft (of course after the show), Rod, Dick, Lance, and Peter.

She went to do the bubble bath thing. (this girl should have red raw skin from all the bathing she does) I looked at all the crap she bought at whole foods and looked at the debit print out. Yep. she charged it to me. Blaxploitaion indeed! reminds me of another movie: apocalypse now, but ive modified the famous line to suit my sad situation: "Never leave the studio. Never leave the studio. hahahahaha. Never leave the studio."

/grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr