Carlos, a Backflip and Social Acceptance

I woke up in sweats….perspiration. Not the baggy cotton tracksuits that Mafia guys love or hiphop artists circa 1990s..hmm reminds me , I should pick up my black-gold adidas tracksuit from Uncle Ching’s Dry Laundry. Okay..okay ..the last line is totally bullshit but I’m in a fictional mood…let me tell you why…

So I woke up at 557 a.m, my t-shirt wet like ..like ..I’m tempted oooh soo tempted…but No. It was just wet. I just had a dream that me and the boys were doing Yamakasi type stuff in a carpark. Let me describe one scene.

I’m running towards car where I see Miss Carlos sitting on the hood, icing her wrist. Carlos sitting beside her shouts ,“Oi! ….Oi! This is only for the big booooys!.” Just as he says this I sweetly plant my foot on the edge of the afore mentioned car’s bumper before pushing off and completing, what I could only describe as, a tweaked blackflip with a foot grab, possibly a Mctwist *thank you ESPN X-games *…Then as I land my frens explode in compliments…
“oh my god”, “that was the best trick brudder”…”you the man”

But all Carlos had to say was
“okay…lah…okay only”….
Then I woke up.

So in retrospect, this is what I’ve learnt bout myself based on this dream. I innately yearn to do a backflip in a dark carpark with my frens looking on and more importantly, Carlos is secretly my social benchmark…only he can declare me a Big Boy.

So ladies and gents, please forgive me if in the next few days all I do is continually practice run ups for my ideal black flip. Please forgive me also for all the compliments, gifts, massages and eye lash fluttering I’ll be giving Carlos, in my bid to gain Big Boy-ness.