Chris is well-dressed, confident, and doesn’t wait in line. Black and Gucci shod, he’ll surprise you with his dougie. “Splash!” he exlcaims when James hits a bucket in the fourth quarter.
Walking out of McTeague’s last Saturday around midnight, Chris saw a 15-minute line next door at Mayes and $10 cover. “Stick with me” he said and my roommate and me followed him as he walked passed the line, showed the bouncer the stamp on his wrist from McTeague’s and walked right in. No wait, no cover. “What the fuck man!?” my roommate exclaimed as we went to the bar to order drinks. “I do this every weekend” replied Chris with a smile.
Last night at bar close there was a 20-minute line at Pizza Orgasmica. Chris doesn’t wait in line. He walked up to the bouncer (security emblazoned on the shirt of his 6’3″ 217 lbs frame): “My name is Chris, I ordered a pie.”
“Yo, I ordered a 16″ meat combo pie” he told the attendant watching over the drunken hoard in the shop. “We don’t have that” replied the attendant. “That’s what I ordered dawg.” “Yeah, we don’t have it.” “I’m from Chicago, what you recommend for a cat from Chicago?” “The doggie style is real good.” “Yeah, I’ll take that in a 16″.” “Yeah, we don’t have that.” “Alright then, get me two slices.”
“Look at those suckers” said Chris as I bit into my cornmeal-crusted slice, grease dripping down my palm.
Chris got an engineering degree on scholarship. Chris had a date the first night he moved to San Francisco. Chris will buy a beamer starter kit when he moves to New York next year. Chris is a hustler. Chris doesn’t wait in line.