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Simple Travel

“No way man. There is no way you can get on that show, dog,” said Keon, or as
they call him on the street, Special K.
His friend and him sat on the coach watching TRL and debating of weather Karl
can get on the show.
“Man, how do you know? I bet yo stupid ass that I can be on that show
t’morrow,” replied Karl.
“Stupid ass? We’ll see who dumb? I will take that bet, thank you very much,”
said Keon.
“Cool, how much you wanna bet?” said Karl.
“How much you got?” said Keon.
“Just state the name of your game and I’ll do it.”
“I bet you 200 bucks that you can’t get on the show tomorrow. And since P.
Diddy is going to be on the show, you have to get an autograph,” said Keon.
“Deal,” replies Karl and continues by saying, “And if I win, you have to give
up you Cadillac.”
“Only if you get the P. Diddy autograph and give it to me,” said Keon.
“Cool, we’re in agreement.”

That was the day of the bet. Now Karl was in his room dressing, getting ready
to go to Manhattan to see Puff Daddy. Slipping into his baggy Fubu pants,
putting on a Braves hat backwards, and slipping into a black vest, he stepped
outside.
The day was bright and sunny but it was cold. The wind made it seem like it was
twenty-five degrees out. Karls street was modertly long and narrow. It had some
trees on the sidewalks but they were all dead. Birds occasionally flew by, but
since it was such a bad neighberhood, even they were afraid of a drive by.
When Karl was outside, he took notice of the kids playing cops and robbers. To
bad that that game is going to turn into reality for those kids when they grow
up, thought Karl. He then glanced to his left. Mrs. Higgins was beating a
mailman over the head with a broom because she thought that he was a robber.
Then side stepping and looking to the right, he saw Ben and Jerry, the ice cream
guys. Since everyone stopped buying their ice cream, they were broke and now
begged for change. Karl also noticed Sam and Jen. They were at it again. Arguing
for the fifith time this week, it was all the same. He pleaded that her sister
came on to him, and she threw boots at his face from the second floor of their
wooden house.
Now Karl glanced at his watch. Two o’clock, it told him. TRL starts at three
thirty so he thought he better hurry. Stepping outisde of the metallic fence
that surrounded his house, he stepped up to the sidewalk.
Seeing a yellow car at a distance, he raised his hand in the air and yelled
out, “TAXI!”
Across and a little up the street stood a middle aged white guy, also calling
for the same taxi. When the taxi driver noticed the two people calling for him,
he stepped on the gas peddle and drove up. He passed Karl, and stopped before
the middle aged white guy.
“Ahh, you little bitch. Why does this always happen to me?” aksed Karl as he
picked up a rock and chucked it the back window of the taxi.
After the rock put a whole in the window, Karl ran like a cheetah in the
opposite direction, saying to himself, “Yeah you stupid f---, you do that again
an’ I kill you.”
When he turned the corner of his street, he ran a litte more and saw a bus pull
up in front of Deans Liqour. He hopped on the bus and paid his share of the
dollar. The bus was going to Newark, so Karl thought that he would take a PATH
train from Newark to 33rd and 5th. The only place to sit on the bus was next to
a homeless person and a dude that looked like Steve Tyler from Aerosmith. The
bus also smelled of rotten milk and eggs and that made Karls stomach turn.
When he plopped down in his seat, Karl took notice of the bum. Besides the
stench that was coming off of him, the bum had food chinks in his beard, and his
breath smelled like last weeks garbage.
“Excuse me mister, do you have a dollar?” asked the homelss man, in a hoarsy
voice.
“Shut up! You nasty son of a---” Karl started angrily but got interrupted by
the bus driver.
“Hey fool! No cursing on ma’ bus! You do an’ I’ll whoop yo ass.”
The homeless person started laughing.
“Shut up, you old geazer, go take a shower!” Karl snapped at the homeless
person.
As soon as Karl said this, he was tapped on the shoulder.
“What?!” yelled Karl.
“Hey, pipe down over there! ‘cause you don’t want me to come back there and
open the can,” shouted the bus driver.
“Sorry man, but he touched me. I don’t respect other man that touch me,” said
Karl.
“Hey, don’t player hate, appriciate,” said a lady that was sitting across from
Karl.
“Mmmhhmmm. That is correct, that is correct,” said the bus driver.
“Do you want to be saved?” asked the guy that looked like Steve Tyler, after
everyone settled down.
“What are you talking about?” asks Karl.
“I’m talkin’ about Jusus Christ the Savior. I have been specially chosen by God
almighty to lead people from the apocalypse,” the guy replies and takes out a
hermonica.
“Shut yo trap. You actually want me to believe that God has chosen you to be
the leader of the human race?” Karl continues with his questioning.
The Steve Tyler look-a-like started playing the blues and signing along with
it, “Been sent down by God, do do do do do, been sent down to save the human
race, do do do do do, and be the savior, do do do do do, I say I been chosen to
save your butt, do do do do do. Sing along now. This is a disgrace, do do-.”
He got interrupted by Karl saying, “Driver, stop here. This is getting to
freaky for me.”
The bus driver pulled the bus over and opened the door. Karl stood up and was
heading toward the door when a hand slapped him on the butt. When Karl turned
around, he realized that it was the bum.
“Peace out homeboy,” said the homeless man.
“F--- you, bitch. Touch me again and you die,” replies Karl.
As he jumped off of the bus, Karl went up the street. He looked around and saw
a bunch of stores, a hot dog cart and some dude robbing a pizzeria across the
street. Karl began laughing and the robber must have heard him because he turned
around and started shooting.
“Oh sh-” Karl began and dived behind the hot dog cart.
“Hey mister, want anything while your down there?” asked the hot dog dealer.
“Ain’t you afraid that yous gonna get shot?” asked Karl.
“Nah, I know that guy and we had a deal. If he doesn’t shoot me, he gets a free
hot dog,” replied the man and continued by saying, “So do you want anything or
not?”
“Yeah, hook a brother up with a hot dog, mustard and ketchup. Don’t be messin’
wit me now ‘cause I’ll come up there,” said Karl.
“Go ahead, the shooter left already,” replied the hot dog man.
“Good, ‘cause I was about to stick my foot up his ass. Anyway, where my hot
dog, man?”
“Right here, and thank you come again.”
“Peace,” said Karl and started walking up the grim street, after paying for his
hot dog.
Two fifty for this hot dog? I got jipped, Karl thought to himself. As Karl
stridded down the street, he wasn’t paying any attention to where he was going
and he tripped on an uneven sidewalk.
“Damn it, mother of pear,” Karl said. He was looking at the girl that was
walking on the other side of the street that was wearing a dress that was,
besides being short, was tight.
“Hell, that’s what’ll women do to you. Ahh, crap. Now I lost my hot dog,” said
Karl as he watched the meat part of his hot dog roll off the sidewalk and into
the sewer.
“Damn,” he added and glanced at his watch. It was two forty five.
“What the f---, I’m not having any luck today at all,” Karl hesitantly
mentioned, and began to run toward the P.A.T.H trains. When he came to the
revolvong bars, Karl went deep into his pockets. He needed a dollar and all he
came up with was ninety five cents and three pennies.
Holy monkey, where the f--- has all my money gone, thought Karl. He then
thought back to the bus ride and had remembered the bum that was sitting next to
him. Karl then noticed that another homless man was sitting in a corner with a
plastic cup with change in it. Karl walked over to him and smiled.
“Any change mister?” asked the homeless man.
“Change? Me? Nah, I don’t have any, but you do. Gimme dat cup, you bum!” said Karl and quickly seized the cup from the homeless man.
“Need some change for the train, that’s all it is,” Karl continued and headed toward the revolving bars. He took four quarters out of the cup and put them in the machine. When the light blinked that it was all right for him to enter, Karl stepped through and was now on a long and narrow platform. The station was hot, and huge fans, in circular cages, hung over the platform and spun heavily, making a whoosh sound. Karl looked down, first at the floor, and then onto the tracks. Black spots were on the floor from the gum people chewed and decided not to spit into the trashcan, and rats ran through the tracks like they were running from danger. Eventually, a slight breeze came. It increased as the train came closer to the station. Out of the dark tunnel, finally came the train. On the first train car, it said that the destination was 33rd St.
Karl got on the train and the conductors voice boomed through the train cars, “This train is headed to 33rd St. Watch the closing doors.”
The train rushed through the tunnel. Lights seemed to stretch out like lasers as the train neared its high speed. Karl sat by himself on the train and thought to himself. He had nothing to do and started to think back to when he was little and how he almost got into fight.

“Yo punk, give me my ice cream! I gave you my money and now you hand over the chocolate!” Karl hollered at the ice cream truck man. It was ninety-five degrees out and Karl has been waiting for the ice cream truck man for nearly a half an hour.
“Listen you little brat, you’ll get your ice cream when I’m done with the other kids,” returned the man.
“But I already gave you money, stupid,” replied Karl.
“And so have the other fifty kids, now shut the front door, can’t you see I’ve got my hands full!” yelled the man.
Raising his left fist Karl yelled to the man, “Why don’t you talk into the microphone?” Then raising his right fist, Karl continued, “I also got a back up microphone right here.”
“Here, here. Here’s your stupid ice cream, now leave me alone won’t you?” said the ice cream man, and threw and ice cream bar at the kid.

Now arriving in NYC, Karl quickly regained his thought to the present and got out of the train car. He looked at his watch. It was three ten. He ran outside, and dodging people like a bullet, headed towards Time Square. When he got closer to the MTV studio, he noticed that the guards were already letting people in. Karl ran and ran, and pushed and shoved, hearing obscene language behind him. When he got close to the line of the MTV studio, he shoved his way up to the front of the line.
The guard looked at him and finally said, “Come up, but behave yourself.”
“I will. Don’t worry I will,” said Karl.
When he got up to the actual studio and found himself a seat up front, Karl got excited. Glancing at his watch for the last time, Karl saw that it was just about time to start the show.
“Hi, this is Carson Daly coming to you live from the MTV studio in the glamorous Time Square of NYC. We have an exciting show for you today. Puff Daddy is in the studio, and a new video has just been released by a group that all of you will probably enjoy.”
In about a half an hour, Puff Daddy came out. Karl got excited and wanted to talk to him during commercial break.
Getting up from his seat, he walked over to Puff Daddy.
“Hey man, what are you doing?” asked Carson Daly and followed by saying, “Security!”
“No man, calm down Carson. Let’s see what the kid here wants,” said Puff Daddy.
“Okay, it’s like this. I and a friend made this bet. He said that I couldn’t be on this show and that I couldn’t get your autograph. But if you do me this favor and put me on the air and sign my Braves cap, I’ll owe you,” said Karl.
“Well I don’t know. What do you think audience?” asked Puff Daddy and as soon as he finished his sentence, the crowd exploded.
“I say we do it,” said Puff Daddy.
“Okay, you ready? Because the dude over there is telling me we got twenty seconds,” Carson told Karl.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” replied Karl.
In a short amount of time, they were on the air.
“Welcome back, I’m standing here with the talented Puff Daddy and?” Carson started.
“Karl, man, Karl,” replied Karl.
“Mind if I give a shout out?” asked Karl.
“Sure, go ahead, I guess,” said Carson.
“Aaayyiieght,” Karl said, stepping up to the camera and saying, “Yo, this shout out goes to ma’ family, especially my mom, I still remember you big momma. Also, Aunt Jamima, just love your pancakes. Also this goes out to my dad, Dilbert, and my friend Special K, whose at home right now, sitting on his butt, watching me. And thas it.”
“Okay then, thanks,” Carson said, with a kind of a weird look on his face.
“Now I’ll sign your cap. Got a pen?” asked Puff Daddy.
“Sure, sure. No doubt,” Karl replied enthusiastically and took off his Braves cap and took out a pen.
As he watched Puff Daddy sign his cap, Karl heard Carson saying, “While our guest is signing this young mans cap, let’s got into our next video, which is at number five this week, Destiny’s Child.”



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Comments

The following comments are for "Simple Travel"
by Mr. E

to Mr. E
Well, that was utterly pointless. I am not even going to rate that. First of all, spelling and grammar mistakes really distracts the reader and undermines credibility. Second, a short story need to have a tangible plotline in order to make any sort of sense. It needs to leave you with something. Third, I think this is suppose to be humor, but I do not get it.

As writing goes its ok, some redundancies and flighty word usage.

( Posted by: Furius [Member] On: April 24, 2002 )





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