collegiate diversion

We joked on the way down here that it’s called Killadelphia.
But I know some guys now who would think differently.
They would say “this is Realadelphia” and the people you meet just tell you how it is.

You can call me “Boston” all you want, it won’t change the way I feel about you. And now your hand is on my ass in all the wrong context.

I wandered into the city tonight with the mission to meet fascinating people. My quest 40 blocks later left me with vivid memories and sore feet.

How could you ever live in a city? I would pick myself apart with all the beautiful woman prancing in the newest vintage trends. I would compare myself constantly and leave nothing out.

But seeing as today I am just a tourist, I admire. And shop hopelessly. All of it, in this city, feels really good.

The fascinating part about the city is all of the sounds, with traffic and streetlights controlling, the noise ebbs and flows.
Crescendo,
decrescendo,
“Hey pretty lady! Suck my cock!,”
“Please help a veteran miss, I’m dying.”

It all comes and goes. And it’s all really beautiful. Well, err, interesting. A fascinating social experiment at least.

WE TOOK MILLIONS OF DEMENTED PEOPLE AND PUT THEM IN A REGION WITH TALL BUILDINGS>>>A NEW REALITY TV SHOW CONCEPT!

Whoops.

Everyone here smokes too much too., she said admittedly confessing that in the city, it just feels right that she smoke cigarettes.

“You smoke?”
“I mean yeah, sometimes, but I don’t inhale.”
“Naw girl, I mean weed.”
“Aw nah, I’m trying to quit……………………………..”

THIS is a LIE.

I always say “I’m trying to quit” because it makes me seem cool, and like I’m a bad-ass. Take note, kids.

“I smoke soooooo much dope, that I need to quit. I am THAT cool.”
Even though I really, between you and me?
I really don’t.

“Up on a State street yo, they throw you in prison for that shit.”

Jimmy, or SLIM as he like to be called,
NOT like SLIM SHADY, oh no! He was Slim first.

He got mixed up in heroine and they put him in prison for eight days for the possession.
When you’re address is HOMELESS St. he says,
(that is exactly what his file says in the computer),

they let you out quickly, because “the system needs to clear out” and “they’re ain’t no way a homeless man gonna pay $380 to get out.” You know what I’m saying?

So I met Slim and his right-hand man Anthony, who liked to be called Wolf, in front of the Philadelphia Convention Center. Members of this very angry organization were screaming into microphones how all the evils in the world could be found in the Bible and African-Americans don’t like to be called such because you don’t anything about them, and the White Man whores out their white women.

I tried to ask them questions and one of them just glared at me and said “No bitch, I don’t have no literature for the likes of you.”

Oh, how the journalistic integrity fails me!

Slim and Wolf wanted to get drinks so I walked with them, learning about their criminal records and Anthony’s goldfish. They said they were 25 years old but they forgot their Ids.

So, “like 15 year old boys” they paid a homeless man $20 for a bottle of SoCo.
I just watched for the most part, and took a sip here and there to be sociable.
To be cultural, I really wanted to get to the Historical District and see the crack in the Liberty Bell. And these guys didn’t budge when they said “we WILL walk you there.”

12 blocks later and we discover the Invisible Children group (http:///www.invisiblechildren.com) protesting on the Common in the center city district, waiting for some member of Fall Out Boy to come and rescue them. My buddies broke out the bottle and listened to me berate these high school girls with questions about the organization.

100 different protests world-wide (9 different countries!) and two drunken boys’ anecdotes later, I am walking around, buzzed with sore feet, lost and smiling with a worried mother on the phone.

“What are you doing hanging out with city guys? - Samantha, I’m worried. – Just call a cab. – We’ll google it, where are you? – This is so senseless Sam, walking around on your own. – Does your boyfriend know you’re hanging out with two OTHER GUYS?”

Oh. My. Goodness.

I am going to consider the soundtrack to my Philadelphia trip the ‘It’s Blitz’ album (new album, the YYYs, http:///www.yeahyeahyeahs.com) which I popped into my iPod for this trip. I listened to it emphatically after hanging-up (possibly ON?) my mother.

Anyway, specifically the RUNAWAY track. Absolutely beautiful tune.

It just seems really fitting.

Sitting cozy in my hotel room now with the other Society of Professional Journalists (http:///www.spj.org) officers, this conference has been fascinatingly eye-opening. I mean, woah. What a time.

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