Liz Erk (lizerk) wrote,
Liz Erk
lizerk

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We are so white, yo...

Last night I finally saw 8 Mile. I mean, really. Nanny saw it and gave it rave reviews, so it was clearly high time I "got with it" and saw it, too, right?

I made Anne see it with me, which really didn't take much convincing. She's an Eminem fan, so all I had to do was say, "Hey, wanna see a movie Sunday?"

"Yeah," she exclaimed. "Let's see 8 Mile...!"

So I cruised on to Beacon Hill, picked her up in my phat ride and we rolled on ovah to da theater. And I have to say, I actually enjoyed the movie! I got a kick out of Kim Bassinger the most... "he won't go down on me...!"

Anyway, after it was over we were going to stay and sneak into The Ring, but I had some errands to run, so I had to be all adult and go home. But not before we left the parking garage in true "White Posin' Style!"

When we got in the car, I remembered that the guy who installed the subwoofer had left his 8 Mile soundtrack in the CD player. I imagined he must have used it to test out the bass quality of the sub. So I said to Anne, "Hey, look in my CD book. I think the 8 Mile soundtrack is in there."

Sho' enuff... so we popped it in and cranked the sound. And there we were in quite the line-up of cars... behind us was an overdone BMW with shiny chrome detailing and over-darkened windows. In front of us was a little Indian girl with a very long braid, round little glasses, blouse buttoned right up to her neck driving a pimped-out blue Honda Civic covered in "Type R" stickers. This clearly was not her car because she couldn't quite negotiate the turns around medians, clipping the ultra-low ride on the curbs. Plus she kept stalling each time she stopped. And also not to mention she could barely see over the steering wheel.

In front of her was a beaten-up old gray Toyota Camry that was so full of people, the car seemed to sag, barely 3 inches off the ground.

As we inched our way to the little booth to pay for our parking, our parade of cars passed by a large group of "homies." It was not the slicked-out Beemer that got attention, nor was it the Riced-up Honda... no, it was Anne and I... the Whities in the seXterra, yo. The bass from the car was clearly felt outside, so Anne and I slowly rolled along, nodding our heads to the beat, occasionally putting our hands up in "Raising the Roof" style...

Yes!! We were SO cool! True Ghetto Superstars of the night...

Okay okay... more like very sad... but we had fun, so that's all that matters... ;-)
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