While crossing the gap between my car and the other side of the walkway, I heard the sound of a vehicle increasing its acceleration as I traversed, and turned to see two youths in a Honda plastic enhanced something-or-other barreling towards me - grinning like idiots.
Now, I am not the world's most aggressive individual and can usually defuse an argument with a stare or a few "gentle" words, however this time, rather than just keep walking, I stopped dead in the middle of the road, watching with half anticipation and half amusement as the muppets in front of me realised that the distance was closing, they were still accelerating and I was not moving.
The awesome thing about being just post-pubescent is that you either have balls or your don't - and as most expats who have been in this situation before know, the majority of pre, post and well-past-the-post locals.......don't.
Wide-eyed realisation, the screech of brakes, heads banging off the ceiling and then the face saving - mouthy nineteen year old screams "Fuck you!" out the window of the car and in a maneuver half fueled by sex starved rage and half by being frightened out of his wits, proceeds to open the door to get out.
He stands, faltering for a second - knowing that he has possibly overstepped the mark.
Dressed in fake "Georgio Omani" t-shirt and glitter-belt, with the baseball cap on sideways and arms covered with tribal tattoos, he starts mouthing off.
Mr. Tough Guy - "You need to watch it maaaaaan, You know what I'm sayin' huh?"
And then I saw it - a part of me couldn't let it sink in at first and then the reality of what I was seeing took over and an uncontrollable snort came out.
This "Yo-yo: Boys from the Wadi, comin' atcha!" wannabe was
WEARING TIGHTS ON HIS ARMS!!
These ones to be precise:
http://tkey.net/blog/images/sleeve2.jpg
The wind was well out of his sails at this stage, and off he scampered while his mate sneered and "turned up DA BASS!".
So.......Omani Rap Wannabes With Fake Body Art.....
Here is my proposal, dawgs.
I am willing to sponsor ten of you 'niggas", dressed in yo best nylon tattoos and yo finest Ruwi R&B threads, and put y'all on a bizzness class flight to Los Angeles!
You will be picked up by chauffeur-driven stretched limos, and dropped off in the middle of Compton, where you can meet YO HOMIES!
Dey gonna love you dudes!
Word!
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