For the first time since about the age of 6, which was the last time I was allowed to wear a costume, I got dressed up for Halloween. On the suggestion of a very special friend, I went dressed as the legend of "funk rock", Mr. "super freak", Rick James himself. How impersonating this character would bring me so much attention, affection, love, titties in my face, humor, pictures, phat asses at my hips, and shout outs, was unbeknownst to me. Friday night, I learned a very valuable and important lesson. There are two types of folks in a given Halloween celebration, those dressed in their pretty, unique and/or sexy costumes, and then there's Rick James Bitch! I've never taken so many pictures, grabbed and hugged so many strangers, and heard so many people call-out my name. I honestly lost count after the 100th pic that I took with some chick on the corner of 32nd and 10th ave, NYC, and they must have said "Rick James Bitch" at least 5,000 times. In all, I had an incredible and fun-filled night of ongoing attention. Those folks, my friends included, made Rick James aka ME, feel like I was on top of the world. Thank you Bitches! It was a celebration!
The crazy thing about all this is that going as Rick James, was a bit intimidating for me. You see, besides his music hits, and the popular phrases made famous by David Chappelle, I didn't really know much of the man, and I wanted to play my part right and give the role justice. So after some research, made possible by YOUTUBE and images obtained from Google, I was able to put something together. What's even crazier, is that the outfit I wore, was improvised the day of. As many of my friends know, I was actually waiting for a shirt, which still hasn't arrived, that said "Good Evening Bitches". You know, kind of cuing people in on who I was. But the result that was born from a brain child idea, was better than any shirt. My focus shifted from going dressed as Rick James, to being Rick James himself, period. Have you ever heard of the phrase, "Can't have your cake and eat it to?" Well, I have to believe that Rick James, had his cake, and ate the shit all the way to the grave. Being this man for one entire night, gave me the "Green Liiiiiiiight", like John Legend says, to call every female I saw a Bitch, and have them smile back at me or blow me a kiss. I couldn't believe it. I even called a few men Bitches, and they laughed with me. Shit was too easy. So here was my try at being Rick James. What do you think?
Me: Rick James
The wig, which arrived two weeks after I ordered it, and the jacket which I got for 50 bucks, were the only things that had been previously purchased in preparation for my costume. Everything else, as in all the jewelry, earrings, nose-ring, studded leather gloves, glasses etc., was put together with random shit that I found around my apartment, and things I picked up @ Ricky's the same day; I'm glad I was off from work.I must add though, that putting this fabulous outfit together came with some sacrifices. Do you see that nose-ring? That shit hurt more than a mother-sucker and it kicked my ass. One thing worst than getting a piercing in a sensitive area, is getting a fake piercing in that same area. As we speak, my right nostril is a bit infected from that shit, with pus and everything, true story. It seems that the "fake" nose-ring pierced through a portion of my skin, and infected it. And lets not even talk about the boots I had on. OMG!!! Them shits, 3 quarter high Frye boots, destroyed and annihilated my feet to the extent that tears almost came out of my eyes when Taxi's kept zooming past us. I didn't cry when I read the "Kite Runner", but I almost wailed on the corner of 96th and Broadway @ 4:00am. What was I to expect, I hadn't worn them in over 10 yrs. Funny shit right? But hey, it was all worth the pain and time of recovery. I felt like He-Man for an entire evening. I was the "Master of the Universe" and by the power of Grey Skull, "I had the mother freaking Poweeeeeeeer!!!" Bitch!!!
My crew says that I put it together better than they could have imagined, and they loved it. My boy Zak said "You look better as Rick James than Rick James did. When I saw you through my peep-hole, I almost threw up". That was funny. My boy Tim said "OMG! Increible (incredible), you look amazing bro. I can't stop staring at you!" My boy Arod said, "I didn't even recognize you when you opened your door. That's when you know it's a good costume. I thought you were really Rick James." And finally, My cuzzo Big A said, "The costume is freaking hilarious. You look like a modern version of the old Rick James. All you need is to get all his lines down, and you'll add the icing to the cake."
The fellas and I (Zak, Tim, Big A, and Arod), got together this year to celebrate Halloween and we made it a celebration of a lifetime. We were also quite unique with our choice of costumes. I counted over 102 Jokers; 7 Gynecologists; about 10 or so Gladiators; 15 girls dressed up as some sort of insect either a bumble bee or a lady bug;
and the rest of them were dressed as FBI agents, Cops, or other forms of protective services, oh yeah and your usual devil girl here and there. But no one, and I mean no one, was dressed up like us. Especially not like me; "I'm Rick James Bitch!!!"
When we initially saw each other, we almost threw up in laughter. Even before stepping out of Zak's crib, where the pre-party was taking place, we were in tears. When we all looked at each other, we just fell to the floor laughing. I second Mr. Brucru by saying that no one can do it like we do, and that's the motherfreaking Truth. Here's what the rest of my crew was dressed up as:
Zak: Princess Leia (Star Wars)
Tim: Penny Wise the Dancing Clown (Stephen King's IT)
Arod: Speed Racer. Not by choice, but because of procrastination
&
&Big-A: Santa Clause
We laughed, and laughed, and looked at each other, and laughed some more.
The Halloween '08 party went down @ Prime, a small club/crack in the wall (literally), located on 28th, off of 10th avenue. The club was so small, that we walked by it 4 or 5 times, and took several pictures before even noticing it.
Actually, we still didn't notice the shit, cause there wasn't a sign to identify it. Rick James (that's me), had to ask some random white dude who was posing as a hard body security asshole, to confirm that the black door with the red spotlight above it, was PRIME. When we finally got in, I quickly noticed that the space was not my cup of tea; nobody told us we had arrived to Ricker's Island. They padded us down like convicts. I mean they even went to the extreme of grabbing our genitalia, with prior permission of course, "I'm sorry but I'm gonna have to grab your privates to get a full check-up", but still, the spot wasn't even all that, and having my balls fondled by a complete stranger, a f#*king man at that, was not a nice way to start the night. I know it was Halloween, and they were trying to keep things safe and in check, but I know profiling when I see it, and I would bet all the money in the world, that Tom Cruise or Donald Trump would've not been searched in the same manner my friends and I were. If I'm going to be honest, I rather you get a K-9 to sniff the crack of my ass for drugs, if that's what your searching for, than to have some random bitch ass toy cop, touching me where only a preselected number of females and myself have. And all that for what? Honestly, it was one of the worst spaces I've ever been to, and the liquor was way-way-way over priced. My gosh, I ordered three shots of Hennessy and my bill was $39. That's the price of a medium sized bottle of Henny.
But, they're not gonna be playing people for their money for too long. I'm a great judge of success, and I give that venue another few months before it has to close down, seriously. But, all that being said, and since this isn't a blog about clubs, I want to say that the boys and I still had a freaking awesome time and we made the best of the situation, like we always do.
I have to admit, that although we enjoyed ourselves, and I had an awesome time seeing the fellas in character, and loving every minute of being Rick James, this year may be the last time I go to a club for Halloween. Catching a cab was mother freaking nightmare. It took Penny Wise The Clown, Speed Racer and myself, almost three hours to catch one. It eventually came to the point where we took the Subway, to get further uptown, where racism & stereotypes don't reign as much, you know, a little closer to home, but no auto-mobile would stop for us. AT 4:00am, we were finally picked up by a "gypsy" cab who probably noticed that the sun was rising and felt sorry for us; Unbelievable. It's funny, but even with all the bitter sweet moments of the evening, I'm already pumped for next year's event. I already know what I'm going to be. You wanna know? You really wanna know? It's a surprise. Wait 'til next year and see.Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah. Life's a celebration! It's a celebration Bitches! Unityyyyyyy!
I'M RICK JAMES BITCH!!!!
