Today’s TBT #BlackLivesMatter

REAL LIFE LOS ANGELES TRAIN (yes): 5 o’clock to Culver City.

FEROCIOUS BUSINESS WOMAN: 40’s, black, French cuffs, Louboutins, red reading glasses, French twist. PRISCILA watching Wesley T. Jones‘ latest video (on latest shootings), sans headphones. Proud.

PRISCILA: Oh my.
FEROCIOUSNESS: That your friend?
PRISCILA: Yes, ma’am.
FEROCIOUSNESS: Hm. You in your twenties?
PRISCILA: (I nod) 22.

(I repost, open up NPR App on my phone)
FEROCIOUSNESS takes off her reading glasses, places them on her head. Holds her hand to her mouth. Then chin. Inhales.

FEROCIOUSNESS: Let me ask you something. Did you just move here?
PRISCILA: (smiles) what makes you say that? Indeed, I just did.
FEROCIOUSNESS: Hm. We don’t see bodies like yours around here much anymore. Girls come out here and disappear.
PRISCILA: I’m sorry, I… Boys are getting shot and you want to talk to me about the circumference of my thighs?
FEROCIOUSNESS: They’re related.
PRISCILA: Oh yeah?
FEROCIOUSNESS: You want truth?

FEROCIOUSNESS: You see mama, whenever a girl loses another damn pound or straightens her hair or changes the way her mama taught her to make a meal, they’re bleaching our histories and burying our bones and the STRUCTURES THEY COME IN six feet underground. Execution all around. Where you from?
PRISCILA: (breath) Colombia.
FEROCIOUSNESS: Hm. (Puts glasses back on, gathers her Prada, Newspaper, and takeout, stands) I lost my two brothers to Chicago and then I moved out here. I was twenty-five. Whenever they shoot another brown boy, they’re also shooting at your curves and at the language you speak when you call your home. So yes baby, when I see you I say to myself, “she better keep ’em thighs strong.” Stay blessed, child.

Train stops. FEROCIOUSNESS nods, and steps off.

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REAL LIFE BK CORNER STORE: (translated)

(Happened a year ago today: weirdly appropriate)

COP 1 to COP 2: (reminscing) I would hit that, hard, and all day LONG, man.

BOTH: DALE!!! (obligatory handshake, tap on the back type thing).
COP 1 (asks the counter guy): ey, where’s the transvestite at?
COUNTER GUY: Day off.
COP 1: Day off for what? To strap some balls back on?
COP 2: Pray that God grow him a nice rack?
LITTLE GIRL: Mami, I think they’re talking about Frankie.
COP 2: (paying for his coffee) Don’t worry baby, you don’t need to worry about monsters like him while we’re around, you got that?

(Super mama puts little girl down, takes cops hands, coffee spills a bit)

MAMA: Frankie is my son, pendejo. Who you fighting for, huh? Doesn’t your boricua ass get enough hate? And don’t you ever call my baby girl “baby,” you hear? I don’t need her to think that a fat ass in a suit with coffee and a gun can save her. Fuck women over on your own time, but leave the parenting to Frankie and I- that man in a dress saves her from you. YOU GOT THAT?

‪#‎yesma‬‘am.