Jazzy jaff invades NYC

"Where did all these brown guys from?"

My roommate was looking down on me and I was wondering what he was doing in my room. Then I realized I was in the living room on the couch. I sat up and asked:

"Can you check if the guy sleeping in my bed is still alive?"

My roommate knew better than to acknowledge this request but pressed on, in the hopes of clarifying his own confusion...

"It looked for a second there like you weren't wearing any clothes" he said. He looked relieved that I was only wearing boxer shorts. I was just hoping my ying yang was not exposed.

The brown guys in reference were not me, I mean I do count as one brown guy, but my roommate should, by now, be used to my brown ass stumbling into the apartment, wasted, and making pillows out of my suit jacket on the floor.
The brown guys in reference were in fact Jazzy Jaff who was sleeping on the adjoining futon and Dr. Orgy (the doctor of love?) who was passed out in my bed.

How did we get to this point? Well Jazzy Jaff is one of my closer friends from Business School and Dr. Orgy is one of my closer friends from undergrad and we were all kicking it last night. Dr. Orgy celebrating finishing his residency and Jazzy Jaff was in NYC celebrating a recent BJ from a white chick (where da white women at? Holla!)

After dinner at my favorite gay cuban restaurant I took Jazzy Jaff over to Sin Sin to hang out and meet up with a crew. As Jazzy is Eritrian that means that all manner of cousins and people are going to come bounding in and lord knows where things will end up. One fellow showed up and managed to hit on 4 women en route to greeting his cousin. DA appeared and I was glad for it. Not knowing what D is up to has been a point of concern for me ever since he arrived in NY. I have on occasion stepped up and invited my nigerian brother out. But often an 11pm call will find him still working so I leave him be.

After bopping around Sin Sin for several hours and a surprise cameo appearance by Speed Racer aka The Marlboro Man appeared. During the 5 minute Marlboro Man interlude I proclaimed to him that I would be hooking up with the bartender. Marlboro Man who has been a convert to the xTian Church of Lunacy actually believes something will come of this and to that end leaves before the something that comes of it is me getting out on his ass on Avenue B.

There is a lot of discussion among the group of going to Babble or Bubble or Bobble in a few minutes. Neither I nor a recently arriving Dr. Orgy has any idea what Jazzy's cousin was going on about. The heat was unbearable, and I mean it was literally hot, i was sweating thru my shirt. As we left the bar I wrote my phone number on a the check i paid with my credit card and slimily winked at my potentially underage bartender. Surprisingly she didn't vomit...though it was touch and go for a while...

Later when we finally got to Babel (AH!) we realized we were in a Hooka bar full of hot middle eastern chicks. I went to work trolling the place and failing to make anything happen. La Tortura came on and actually fit the proceedings quite well.

Dr. Orgy came up with the right plan and suggested we get some weed. I had some, squirrelled away in the back of my freezer and we were off. we hit a cab and then walked some because like the over educated incredibly uppwardly mobile goofs that we were we had 4 dollars between us. In my apt we sparked doob in the heat and pontificated on when hip hop achieved perfection. After 5 minutes of debate we agreed right then and there that the releases of The Low End Theory and Midnight Marauders bookend the greatest era in hip hop. Happiness pervaded the room...

Dr. Orgy made an interesting point during this conversation

"xTian, you know what's wierd, your bullshit makes all sorts of sense when one is high"

I nearly kissed him, on the mouth! HARD!

(ok, no not really, but learning a universal truth that I make more sense when someone is under the influence of the green might be the key to me advancing with one of these trippy broads currently bisecting random parts of my life. So the kiss is hyperbole for a deep sense of gratitude not any actual gayness)

We then had a magically thought! We could recreate Harold and Kumar go to White Castle with me playing the part of straight laced Harold and he playing Kumar. We agreed right then and there to go to the White Castle on on 38th St. As we started walking it was suggested that we hit the Chelsea Papaya first and get some Chili Cheese Dogs. The idea of walking all the way up to 38th was not at all appealing but press on we did, past all the disturbing stuff, the trannies, the homeless the nasty New York Smelly Garbage.

At White Castles we rocked out to a 10 pack, the good dr's stomach turned as a mid-op tranny walked in, drunk with an exposed breast, i helped myself to his burgers. On the walk back to my apt he pointed out to me that his belly was expanding and it was, and I was disturbed that he felt the need to lift his shirt and expose his rapidly expanding belly.

Somewhere north of Penn Station he sat down on a booth normally reserved for flowers in front of a bodega. Not knowing what to do I ran inside to get him a ginger ale.

Later Orgy said that were he able to he would have shouted "Don't leave me again"

An allusion to an episode at Sharmin's (bar is SoHo from the late 90s) where I once left him puking at a table, as I went across the street and bought a pack of cloves, which I proceeeded to smoke while he sat inside vomiting. I was smoking at the time, mostly for effect...and mostly to avoid situations like that.

I did not abandom him tihs time, and i don't smoke. so I went and got him Ginger Ale, because the last time I went to the doctor (being sick) he gave me ginger ale, this was 1987 I believe...

I walked him back to my apt and let him sleep in my bed while I sprawled out on an incredible uncomfortable futon in my incredibly hot living room. Jazzy Jaff (walked in) and asked what was up, I said something about somthing being gay, and having lived with me for a year somewhat recently, took the comment at face value, shRugged and jumped on the adjoining futon...

My closing comment to him was that if Orgy died, Jazzy would have to help me dispose of body, and potentially kill his soon-to-be fiancee. Jaff, with his usual indifference, concurred and offered himself up, once more, to the righteous task of saving me from my own failings...

And that's how two brown guys ended up passed out in my apartment on one random friday night/saturday morning...