| | A Prelude to Spring Break
I reached an epiphany this morning in one of the most unlikely places you would expect: the gym. And just in case any wise-ass was inquiring, it wasn't the old guy walking around naked in the locker room with his shrivelled up balls flopping around that caused it. No, 'twas not an elderly man's nut sack that caused such a revelation; rather, it was the influx of college-aged men and women that crowded an already packed fitness center. It had to mean one thing: it was the week before spring break.
As a young college lad growing up, I distinctly remember the mad rush to the gym the week before... the height of superficiality, where image and physicality were everything... guys looking to get that ever coveted peak on their biceps, chicks hoping to work that extra junk in the trunk off, and everyone rushing to tone up their wannabe 6-packs, remorseful of the 6 previous months of drinking responsible for their half-ass abs to begin with.
I couldn't help but smile. I was in the same situation when I was their age, and back then, without another care in the world, that's all that mattered at that moment. It was a time of getting high off 8 mile chronic, figuring out which bitches my homeboys and I wanted to holla at in the clubs, whether to cruise in my 64' Impala or my nigga's Escalade...and it was a time to refine our chiseled physiques aided by our God-given Negro genes in the hopes of impressing fly shorties on Spring Break.
Reminiscing on those good ol' times was bittersweet, and the incredible stories (which I'll save for another time) created the man that stands (and writes) before you today. It just makes me wonder sometimes... where did my youthful exuberance go? What has changed and why do I feel the prime of my life has passed me by? I was becoming an old man before my very eyes... an old, senile man with disdain and regret at what he couldn't accomplish in his younger years... disgruntled enough to walk around with his limp wiener exposed to the public in all its flopping and flaccid glory. I was becoming what I mocked. We truly are reflections of what we see in others and unfortunately, the mirror image I saw was that of a crab-infested uncircumcised cock, worn and battered from the penetration of many women and animals.
"Fuck it," I told myself. I decided to do it again for old time's sake. I'm taking the week off and going on Spring Break. College hoes, here I come. The thought almost made old-man balls bearable. Almost. |
| | Posted 2/26/2007 4:51 PM - 125 Views - 28 eProps - 17 comments
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