A Tribe Called Quest - Electric Relaxation

Garment District trip

It's been a while since the last Graham Withers Blog post. Just to keep up-to-date, all of the millions of people who check this blog hourly, here is what we're doing this weekend....

This weekend we'll be going to the garment district in the city to pick out some cool fabrics and letters for our crew neck sweatshirts (available this fall)

Being that we've never done anything like this before, we hope it goes something like this...

Paul and I drive to the "Garment District" via the exit off the FDR that reads: "Garment District - Letters for Crew Neck Sweatshirts" - easy enough so far.

Upon exiting the FDR we arrive in the Garment District at a store appropriately named - "Letters and Fabric for Crew Neck Sweatshirts for Sale to Aspiring Clothing Designers".

We are then greeted by a valet who takes our car to a private parking spot as a doorman opens an umbrella to shelter us from the delightful sun shower coming from the heavens.

As we enter "Letters and Fabric for Crew Neck Sweatshirts for Sale to Aspiring Clothing Designers" a bell boy offers us hors d'oeuvres and a cocktail; we smile politely and decline as we agreed that we are here solely for business matters.

Upon looking the around store, we become a little overwhelmed at noticing an assortment of over 1,000 different fabrics and letters available in every color of the rainbow.

I turn to Paul and say: "This is overwhelming, it could take days...no...months - nay... 1 year to choose a fabric suitable for the letter that will go on our crew neck sweatshirts(available this fall)"

Paul turns to me with his eyes already shrink-wrapped in tears and gleefully pouts: "look behind you..."

I look...

What do I see?

A small roped off section of the store with a sign that reads "Letters and Fabrics that Induce Intense Desires for Crew Neck Sweat Shirts (when applied)"

"Wow" i think to myself.

Astonished at how smooth this trip to the "Garment District" is turning out, Paul and I both look at each other and simultaneously state: "This is fuckin so fuckin sick dude-man-bro-guy...JINX!"

It was - it was fuckin sick, and to make this unbelievable story even more unbelievable, the letters 'G', 'R', 'A', 'H', 'M', 'W', 'I', 'T', 'E' and 'S' we're all marked down by 90% of their orig price.

We know a good deal when we see one - were not fucking retarded, we grab up all of those fuckin letters mannnn...and we just fucking put them shits in a fuckin bag man...and we say to the guy working at that register - "yo store attendant mothafucka, how much for these fuckin letters...bitch."

The store attendant calmly gazes back at us with kind eyes, unruffled by our unnecessary, abrupt change in attitude and replies: "They're all yours guys, today is Free Lettering and Button Day - I WISH YOU THE BEST!!!"

We didnt need any fuckin buttons so we grabbed our bag of letters, gave that asshole the finger and GOT THE FUCK OUT OF THERE!

"Fuck you ass hole" we yelled back at the store attendant as we raced out; bag of letters in hand.

Our car was already out front, running, with the radio tuned to CD101.9 "smooth jazz" - We placed the bag of letters in the trunk, got in the car and drove to New Jersey for no reason.

Paul and I didn't speak the entire ride, but both of us knew what the other was thinking - "If this car was a boat we would get so many more chicks"

Black Water - A Film by Steve Marino - screening @ Mass Transit