There\’s nothing I like more than cruising down 42nd St SE in my hoopty ride at 5 miles per hour with my $500 camera sticking out the window as I try to snap photos in between hoodlums guzzling beer on their porches before the sun is even halfway up on the eastern sky.
What, you say? Put back on a girlie business suit and sit my ass back down in an office where it\’s safe? Never. Never again. This is freedom, right here. Something so liberating about being the only white person in sight on Nannie Helen Burroughs Ave at six o\’clock in the morning in a banged up old Dodge with the Companion Trio wailing on my bad stereo. Something that I\’m guessing you probably don\’t understand because you tremble every time you get lower than the 500s in Northwest.
You\’re too busy \”slumming,\” you say? You don\’t know the meaning of the word.
