Now, I'm not exactly "down" with the kind of music the kids are listening to these days, but I do know that there's a song out there called, "It's Hard to be a Pimp" or something stupid like that. Since I'm so far removed (Thank God) from the pimp lifestyle, I can only go by my assumptions when I encounter what appears to be an actual pimp.
And so there you were, Mr. Pimp of the Southbound E Train last night, a huge piece of the puzzle sitting on the bench across from me. I'd imagine that it's hard to be a pimp because, frankly, you dress like a moron. In case you forgot what you were wearing, let me refresh your memory:
A gray fur jacket
A gray fur hat (fedora-style)
A lime green crew neck shirt
A pair of lime green pants
Almost lime green crocodile shoes
Enough gold jewelry to embarrass Fort Knoxx, including gold rings on every finger and about 5 gold chains around your fat neck.
Sorry for my stare and slight smirk, but it was part fascination, part hatred for your fur and part disappointment that the sparsely packed train provided no way for me to discreetly whip out my camera phone and take a picture. Too bad you got off after only one stop, as I was just getting the courage to ask, "Do all super wealthy people dress this way? Or just the fucking idiots who want us to think they have a penny in the bank?"