RIDE WITCHO MAN
The last day at that job, I was in the breakroom eating a yogurt someone didn’t want. Talking to two girls. One girl was sitting next to me, opening up a small lunch thing where you combine crackers with deli meat and cheese. The second girl was standing by me, one hand on the back of my chair and the other hand completely bandaged. She held her bandaged hand in my face and said, “This be from fightin’ w’some A-rabs. Yeah. I’s out wimma man and these A-rabs jumped him at a restaurant we was at. You know how them A-rabs luh to tussle.” “Ey do be tussling,” said the girl at the table, turning her head sideways a little and looking at me as she combined a cracker with deli meat and cheese. “Arabs love to tussle,” I said, shaking my head no. “What do they do.” The girl with the bandaged hand said, “Yeah, they luh to tussle. So I buss my hand punching this A-rab dude” then in a higher voice, “cauz he was fucking wimma man, f’rill.” “You broke your hand on his head,” I said, flicking a piece of pretzel off the table. She smiled and hit my shoulder with her uninjured hand and said, “Mm hm.” The other girl got serious and looked at me and said, “”S’right, because you gotta ride witcho man.” “Hell yeah,” I said, feeling in love with her. Bandaged girl said, “Hell yeah.” Then someone else in the breakroom began a conversation where people took turns saying what s/he’d do if s/he won the lottery. When it was my turn, I leaned my chair back and said, “Shit, if I won the lottery I’d,” —and I let my chair hit the ground, moving my head back and forth like I was trying to touch each ear to a shoulder, “I’d ride witcho man.” And the girl with the bandaged hand laughed and stomped the ground and her friend laughed and I laughed and when the bandaged girl pointed at me I just did this dumbass shrug, hands up, shaking my head no.
GERALD MCCLELLAN VS NIGEL BENN