Episode 2

The Chronicles of Swishy Pete

Best Burgers in Town

I ain't one for bragging, but living uptown in Manhattan is where it's at. Sitting on the stoop of my landlord's building, enjoying the afternoon sun and the wondrous sounds of city living. Blaring car horns, the melodious pitch of a man's voice yelling into his cell phone and the slight yet titillating vibration of the steps, on which I sit, by the passing Metro North train. I hear the foot patter of a man in flats, it's my dear friend Delicious.

"Bitch," yelled Delicious, "I had to take two trains and a bus to get here. Oh child, it's hot-out today, I am sweating like a whore in church, get your sister something to drink."

"Hey fool," said Pete, "I got some bottle water upstairs in my apartment."

"I meant something that's gonna make me forget the exhausting trip to this place."

"Come on," said Pete, "there is a bar on the next corner by the police station."

"I hope this aint no setup cause I don't snitch and I am too pretty a gal to go to prison," Delicious said as his hands flowed up and own his sides. "I hope they got some chicken wangs or something, I'm starving."

"Well, the sign says, best burgers in town." Said Pete as he pointed to the sign on the side of the building. "I do not know whether it's white folk's best burgers or black folk's best burgers."

"What do you mean white or black folk's best burger?" Delicious asked as he tried to pull open the bar door. "Damn this door is heavy."

"White folks," declared Pete," consider a good burger one that has premium ground beef, not cooked all the way, a hard bun with seeds, and no seasoning whatsoever. Now, black folks and some of dem Ricans too, don't care if it's good meat, the fatter the better, and all we want is it cooked till it's done wit some seasoning, yellow cheese and some fries."

"Amen, girl," Delicious said as he sat at the bar and smiled at the bartender, "but I am on a diet, no carbs for me,"

"I thought you wanted a J-Lo Badonkadonk," said Pete as he looked at Delicious's backside.

"Yeah, but all I got was a big-ass belly," Delicious said.

"Can I get something for you boys," the bartender said.

"How y'all fix your burgers," said Pete.

The door opens and a short fat greasy looking sista stepped in the bar and the bartender yelled to her, "how y'all make the burgers."

"We grillem' out back," said the lady, "and they come with steak fries, yellow cheese, lettuce, and tomatoes on a toasted bun."

"We'll take two," said Pete, as he and Delicious gave one another a nonphysical high-five look, and laughed.

"Can I get y'all something to drink?" Said the bartender.

'"Yes, we will both have cosmopolitans," said Pete as he turned to Delicious and he nodded.

"That's a first," said the bartender as he pulled down two martini glasses.

"What's that sugar?" Delicious said as he wiped the bar top with a napkin.

"Not many guys come in here and order cosmopolitans," said the bartender, "usually most guys order beers or whiskey."

"Why do think that is?" Asked Pete.

"Well," said the bartender in his distinct southern twang, "most straight--Um, men like som'em harder."

"Was that a dig to me and my friend," Delicious inquired, "suggesting that we are not masculine?"

"No," the bartender yelped, "I mean--yous two--well--what I meant--I'm not sayin' that in a bad way."

"Boo-Boo," said Pete, "let me let you in on a little secret, cosmopolitans, or any alcoholic drink for that matter, is not indicative of a man's masculinity. There are natural laws in the universe and the law of gender says that all human beings are both masculine and feminine, you cannot have one without the other."

"Tell him girl!" Delicious said.

"I am sorry and I am not that guy," said the bartender, "I didn't think before the words came out my mouth."

"It's ok honey, don't sweat it," said Pete as he patted the hand of the bartender.

"Here are your burgers boys," said the woman as she placed the plates down on the bar.

"Oh my God this is the best burger I ever had," said Pete as he wiped his mouth, "This burger is cooked to a turn."

"Girl, you put your foot in this." Delicious said.

"I wash the dishes and bring out the food," the woman said, "a white guy does all the cooking."

"Well, Swishy Pete," Delicious said, "It seems you and the bartender didn't think before you let the words fallout your mouth."

Episode 1

The Chronicles of Swishy Pete

Introducing Swishy Pete

"If you want to know about me and my life," said Pete, as he blew the final coat of clear nail polish on his right hand dry, "please do not ask me what I do for a living."

"If a man is interested in making your acquaintance, how should he proceed?" Minnie asked.

"Girl, Minnie, Boo-Boo, let me break it down to you. Suppose some hot-n-sexy man walks up to you, right…"

"I ain't feeling any men these days," Minnie said as she rolled her eyes.

"Alrighty-then, say it is Ms Janet Jackson," said Pete.

"She's all wit Jermaine now, so bump her too," Minnie said.

"Girl," said Pete, "if you don’t let me get this story out."

"I'm sorry Swishy Pete," Minnie sarcastically said, "get on with it, bitch."

"What they are doing'," said Pete as he cut his eyes at Minnie, "when they ask what you do for a living, professionally, is summing you up based on your job title. Baby, I prefer to let them make something up and save me the worry. And don't call me Swishy, if I wanted to be insulted I would call my father."

"Hello, it's a joke," Minnie said. "If they do not ask what you do for a living, how are they supposed to pass judgment, and determine whether they like you?"

"Minnie, you can be so simple sometimes," said Pete as he stood, "look at me honey, anyone worth knowing could tell without asking that I'm fabulously complex."

"Are you saying you're transparent?" Minnie asked.

"See God in everyone," said Pete as he folded his hands together and looking up to the sky praying. "No ass-wipe, let me come at this from a different direction. If you saw a homeless man, you would not need to know his professional occupation to know at least the obvious part of his story."

"What if he were not homeless," Minnie asked, "but just a bad dresser?"

"Don't breathe girl or I'll lose you," Pete said sarcastically. "Instead of asking me what I do for a living, why not ask where I was born."

"Hello, ask me bitch."

"Hey, swishy Pete where you from girlfriend," Minnie said jokingly, barely able to get it all out.

"Pardon me sir, where y'all from?"

"Where am I from? How nice of you to ask," said Pete clutching his pearls, "I am from Oklahoma. Now, Minnie, what does that say to you about me?"

"Umm, growing up you were not allowed to walk backward while eating a hamburger."

"No fool," Pete yelled, "that was only true in Oklahoma city. Oklahoma is a great Broadway Musical, and it speaks of my yearning to be a stage actress. Next, I was born in the small city of Cherokee, what do you think that says about me?"

"Oh I know--that you are an afro-descendant of Cherokee extraction, like Beyonce," Minnie said.

"No, that I performed the Cher song, Half Breed, in drag back in the day at the club, Ho!"

"Donny and Marie," said the manager, "your lunch breaks are over, time to get back to work."

"He ain't all that just cause he's the manager and I don't appreciate his tone," Pete said as he headed toward the backdoor of the restaurant and puts out his cigarette. "I coulda been manager if I had finished college."

"Is that why you don't wanna tell folks what you do for a living?" Minnie asked.

"Yep," said Pete as he held the door open for Minnie.

"Oh, cool," Minnie said, "I just wanted to clear on your process."