Saturday, July 31, 2010

#14 sasha and her tibetan home

on the way home Sasha remembered to grab her umbrella, she was a stickler for remembering things, Sasha remembered a time that it had rained so hard that her car had literally sagged in the distance, and so today she remembered, she bushed her rough black hair to the side, she would do would do for a hair cut, she thought, she liked sticking out from the other teachers when it came to her looks, and when it came to her petitieness, she made sure that her fashion sense was unique and she observed in fanatically on all the latest fashion sows and magazines when she had times, she would look over them ones scattered on both of the coffee tables at home, her sister would bring them home from the hospital and t would be entralled picking up the latest one and being ecstatic about just what she could do ,





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she remembers a time that she went so overboard with it all that and period of frenzy and ill consideration that she had had actually for a week there during college walked out of her house, where a cotton white dress, with noodle straps, and she converses and grey hoody, and a big shoulder handbag gray with sequins, and she had walked out into the 40 degree with windy chill below zero without any underwear, in a hurry to get to the college "I don't care, its free, that way, she had told her best friend, it needs wind" she said and with that she would run to her car, and jump in...


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Taking the files and her brown satchel she ran to the car in big exaggerated leaps, she was running and made it to the car slamming into it in her rush attempts, she open the door and crawled in her breathing still elongated and stagnant.  she sort of sat there for a moment, and than raced home, a it were 10 miles away through the suburb's and the rest of the grassy patchwork of what resembled this place, she walked straight into the home, and their stood her neice standing in front of their in the font of the house, tsering sort of looked at her, no comprehending the girls face and her words as the rain made her into a soggy damp mess, but when she finally pulled herself together, she pulled her neive over and raised her above her head in an


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airplane attempt, and ran up the stars with her, seemingly ready to throw her on the leather coach, there was a great quality to her home n after a rain, the multi colored prayer flag sagged and twirled there was thoughts that brought her alive with wakefulness, she sat there with her niece and nephew and flipped on the telly, the bachelorette, ah fine, and she looked on, while her mother and father hustled and bustled around her preparing for dinner, and making a loud clangor in the home, there was a serendipity feeling in the home, and Sasha, would return to and recoil in her pink walled room when the time was right, but for now, she sat there, thinking..

#13-faith and walkin' to the store

well, do you want to walk with me to the store or what? said faith to every, the corner store was two blocks,, walking distance, and it had become a favorite past time from their childhood, a time where they could catch up briefly in the short distance, they would walk down the short blocks that overlooked homes that they were very familiar with, and she'd ask he sister, if she had seen Lucy or junior, she'd would probably see Lucy riding around on her bike, the sixteen year old would tell faith about everything cornering her family, and other relatives, about weather they returned to Mexico, or where they were living, who was pregnant, and tell her about her older sister lucido, faith's best friend, who had moved to California.



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 With every making no attempt to move from the second floor confinements, faith marched down the stores herself, took her black square handbag and tossed it over her shoulder, she felt self conscience wearing her work uniform in this part of town, she'd probably get looks, and she felt more comfortable in the old days when she could just wearing big baggy shirts, with loose fitting faded jeans and shoes.  She pulled her hair back and missed her fluffy bangs from before.  Fa was that type. 

Walking down the hill, f looked over her shoulder a couple of times and than continued onwards. a ring came through on her cally, she grabbed at the phone, it was junior, that's ironic she thought, being in his old neighborhood and all.  Faith took the call.  

"Hi junior, Que paso? said Faith

"What up Fey? said Junior.  "Lucy said she saw you walkin' down the block."

 Faith peared over at Lucy's house it was pitch back through the victorian style door in the front, she saw no movement within the house.

"That's strange...why wouldn't Lucy just come out?" thought Faith.

"Yeah junior, I'm in the neighborhood, long time no hear." said Faith.   "

I know right? said Junior .  "Well, I thought I should keep in touch with this place, and keep up with what's going on...continued Faith.


"Well, you know I have a baby on the way" said Junior..."Naw, I hadn't heard"  said Faith. He's over there in Calli, you know it ain't right, how you left me here and all...

"Well, I had to."  Said Faith

"You know they got a warrant on my rest.  They almost caught me that last time, I was on the transit, I slipped out of the bus.  Thank God for that. Por Dios        . 

"Yeah, you right, said Faith.   Well junior, what can I do for you?

 "Well, you know tenesha?" said Junior

"Yeah, I know of her, replied Faith.

" Well she's not doin' so hot, got herself in a predicament."said Junior.

 "You dont' say,said Faith. What happened?

 Well, she was at home, as always, callin' me like there's no tomorrow, missin' me or somethin'.

"Your full of shit,said Faith, No one's missin' you. jokin' with him, 

"Yeah well, all of sudden the phone went dead, and her last words, were OH my god, as if some think happened that horrified her, well um, I'm sure she would have called the police or somethin' i know but t is a bit estranged, and she's my first and all, i want to make sure she'd OK. well,let me see what i can do, and I'll get back to you..with that she turned off the phone and looked on at some passerby and as they pushed a girl in a wagon.

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With this strange news faith kept on walking,  she walked passed the bus stop, that was on the same corner where the store stood. 

The store, that used to have a bus shelter, the street corner that used to be a gas station, that used to have cars that came and went, seemed smaller to Faith.   

A corner that crime getter's, could go and meet someone, buy cigarettes and retaliated the world of Minneapolis crimes, in Buick's and cars that were inviting.  

All of the neighborhood kids came here once, for petty candy and now they were coming as adults grown into the drug addicts, feigns and gangsters, that their destiny somehow led them to contrive to. 

 Faith walked up there to the counter, holding out her chips, milk, ice cream, and frozen pizza, Alejandro rang it up, and observed as he looked behind her, faith felt bad for the poor guys that worked there. They were always on the lookout.  Why they even bothered to business here of all places made her wander, it was risky, it was more than Gaza strip, it had potential for gangsters in training, if they were the candidates that had already held guns in their hands.Faith walked home, seeing Lucy this time, she ignored her.  She had a posy on spirit bikes surrounding her, and this made for new likelihood of a conversation.  coming home, Faith's mom had shown up.  

"Well faith, I didn't know you were here," her mom said, in a husky voice. 

Her dyed auburn hair, and eyeliner droopy seemed to remind Faith of younger days.  Her mom walked haunched a bit, she was one inch shorter than faith,as Faith stood at 6 ft. 

 "You heard anything from Jenny next door?" her mom asked. 

 "Jenny's life, made for a disgusting idea, faith thought.  This woman influenced her younger sister to get involved with abuse.

 "Nawwww mom, she said with a "flop" on the couch side ways to that her legs took up the whole couch, and her dress shoes didn't hit the sofa. 


 "Well, I wish someone would go over there"  her mom said. 

" I haven't seen her in two weeks, and I have seen a couple of kids wandering around the house, occasionally without diapers.

"Who's watachin' those kids anyhow?" her mom said.  

Her mother cared about everyone and anyone, although her primary focus seemed to be on K, Jamie, and every, so faith hust sat staring at the TV., vh1, staring at the music videos for two whole minutes, before another word was uttered.

 "Well, mom if you care so much, why don't you go over there?" asked Faithy

"Well, its not my business, and you guys are closer to her that's all, I thought maybe you'd want to know."

 She walked to her room, she was sporting some baggy blue jeans that came up mid stomach, big, carpenter pants, with pockets the size of notebooks. She rumbled through the room, and bathroom, as James , Jamie's son was taking a bath, and she had to remind him to wash his hair.





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Friday, July 30, 2010

#12 sasha +harry potter

she had barely even slept the night before, her face and her eyesight barely winking fast and she had decided to to go to work with the same clothes from yesterday, why not?

she was the type and even sitting in the place. 
"Asha, do we have to do this? yes, of course we have to do this, half of the time, she wandered if the kids were coo, coo or just going nuts.  How can they even ask things of this nature.  why kids in India were looking for the very best of best teachers.  ath students that would guarantee them success.  she had these street rats, with their bullshit questions. and ego thinking, they were at the top of their school, why should they have to do anything remotely creative.  throwing a writing prompt in their faces was like a kiss of death, silent, ineptitude, that could only suggest that their muddled brains were stumped for the time being.  and suggesting even for further that they weren't writers, by maybe physicians, she pictured them in their white lab coats with miscroscopeds listening quite attentively when it came to things like math by a bold demonstration always in English.  as if their creative juices stopped of thinking about anything slaying and juicy great gossip.   that was alright just the more challenge, thought asha.  sometimes she couldn't wait to rid herself of these kids but other times, it was just her nature to stare out at them.


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Asha told them one time to reenact a Harry Potter scene only for them to walk away with the memory of one girl knowing her head against the white waxed floor in demonstration of Dobby.  Yes, it was fun teaching these kids, these kids were like the stars of stars.  KEEN attention, return or work, adherence to Islamic principals, knowledge of academics subjects she was surprised at the knowledge that she knew in answerin' their questions.  because sadly, this was the first time she had an intelligent grasp of their questions.

And the patience thought that HUMID summer, made her coming more worth it barely disappointed at their ability to start the assignment made for an experience that was exhilarating, every little assignment.

advertisement writing,
big 5's
acting engagements,
more interviews
Impromptu reading
steady assessments
free writes
webs
creative writing assignments
her thought process-them doing it and model for a semsmester where she never wanted to miss a solitary day, because missing a day meant, she must have not enjoyed her h.s. at all, her earlier attempts in H> to get along with everyone were of no Nuseresearchin books and writing wasn't possible if she didn't go if she didn't go thought.  these kids motivated her into writing even more.  who cares if they didn't want to, it was the teachers playground.

#11 Sheila and the surveys

Sheila sat down with the surveys peering over her shoulder thinkin' that one may be wanderin what her latest obsession was. she had many when it came to running the coffee shop. one of them included, making sure that the employees filled the whipping cream with a bullet every hour. so that the cans were fresh everyday with coffee, stocking it, sort of ...


might as well been a metaphor for the Inner Bean, one of rigidity and weak obsessions like constant irritating ear infections. she could get a customers inner bean. chucklin' to herself, she remembers. Mr Balkwick, he came in one time complainin' of a toothache rubbin' his mouth furiously and complainin' shifting in his shoes, and fidgeting, he was fidgety and it was of no purpose, when he stated flatly, "No coffee for me today, in his weak attempt to shoulder Brenda's insistence for coffee drink favorites. coming off as a Bert and Ernie impersonations. she'd go home from work, call up he mom, and say the same thing to her mom, "No coffee for me today" and laugh a sort of personal attach on the poor man.

he had no sympathy when it came to studying a persona's unique flaws and scrutinizing them, and it was so obviously clear she had barely even slept the night before. her face and everything about her said that she was beaten down.  she glanced at the newspaper in front of her at the inner bean's reading corner, by the fireplace, a couldron looking fireplace that kept her toasty in the winter, but now it just sat that cold unused while sheila's folded pointy legs sat there. adjusting her collar for what seemed like the fourth time that morning, she placed the newspaper back neatly in the used newspaper bin and stood and yawned.  the surveys had seemed to gather in the inner bean and more bean had seemed to come since Jenks storm, she yet to seem him return like he had promised, that tall gangly impromptu of man, kept his promises she guessed, but the amount of people that filled his spot was absolutely amazing, they parked there little cars all along the parking lot, flowing into the areas where burger king and subway parkers would need, they would line up in the morning, get the drinks that they would normally get somewhere else, sheila practically putting the new recommended coffee drink in their hand with a harsh touch and than she was off doing something no less like yelling at John and now Gracie, Jeff, and stupendous, to take drink orders as she had needed extra baristas.  where were all of these people coming from, she thought, but it made no matter, all the more money, and with the new revenue, perhaps Lincoln the head honcho of inner bean, the big CEO would give the necessary touch ups on the shop, and sheila had plenty of them
here you go, here you and thanks for coming to inner bean, one shot latter, two shot espresso, no you have to try our newest del gato latte minet, its a favorite, and suitable to your two espresso intake,  she tried to refrain from telling them what exact ingredients were inside the drinks, but they always asked.  and what is inside of the drink, how much, she'd flagglanty point her finger to the sign, with a exaggerated point and nod of her head, sarcastically indicating their reading abilities and stood back, as they'd examine for three whole seconds and than come closed to the register and order, it was sort of a game.  She had no time for their incomprehension in learning to Read a simple layout of drinks on the signs ahead, posting their size, age and cost, and if they were honest coffee buyers they would change their ordering method that was it, she told herself.

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Now how about it, she said to Martha, she made notes of their names, although with the new gush of customers, this made for a hard one, the mothers with the runny nosed kids, the frumpy elders, the late night twenty-year-olds in the half way falling off suits, that would need a quick "jump" as she called it.  some called it quick fix, others a blood line, into my veins they said, "just poor it."with freaks like these she felt more like a dope enhancer than a coffee shop manager, but that was fine, take it what it is, use all these little coffee hussies for everything they were.  And she did raking in what seemed like hundreds and hundreds of dollars a day, she'd ring up the orders and say "that's fine now" she liked them. smiled be riled them, and went along with whatever new coffee glitch and story they had.

now if only Jenks would come and see that she didn't need him, she would keep this half dozen, two dozen customers that she had anew, she was able to count at the end of the day just how many new prospects she had, and then assimilate a plan for just how she was going to keep them, and it worked.  Identified their typical drink every day, honed in on their family life, made sure their favorite seat was open, and that they had other their favorite condiments, strayed away from the grumpy..and "catered" to their every needs, why she had a plan that kept the less planned motivated.  she called them the less-planned as if they accounted in every coffee drink quite surely they wouldn't be coming back everyday...

Saturday, July 24, 2010

#9 Mr. Jenks and His office

Five, six, seven eight....
Mr. Jenks, at the corridor descending upon John's office, "Man I knew this would happen, i knew it,"
 He stood, grabbing his brown hair, twirling it around the room, his sneakers pointing off the ground, round round round, like a little mouse, he finally goes up to the door, and knocks one time.  "John. Yes, come in, come in," he says upruptly.

 "I'm sorry but I don't have your coffee," John seemed to just sit here for a moment, in his all black office, tapping fidgeting, looking around.

"Well, come in sit down," he said, in a smooth thick way.  Holding a black file folder in his hand seemingly to use it as a cutting saw. John sat down, his legs




 arched high from the small, black, steal folding chair.

"I want to tell you something, and I want to tell you the right way.  I don't appreciate this one little bit, and I want you do do something about it.

"Do- do-something sir", stuttered John. "Yes i want you...

Friday, July 23, 2010

# 8 Sheila,and the Argument

Very disciplined, Shelia. Sheila could manage anything at all.  But what she loved the most was the "Inner bean Coffee Shoppe".  Efficient, she ironed everything she wore, even her aprons.  She ran a tight shop, and made sure people knew it.  When she wasn't pouring coffee she was making sure someone was.  Her tight visor held her hair in place.  The short hair that she did have.

"Now, I want Mr. Charles Jenks to know that the shipping didn't arrive, and he isn't going to have his usual Colombian roast." said Sheila

 " Oh yeah, and what will he have instead?" asked John.

Knowing full well that his boss was not one who stood for incompetency and that he despised coffee that was sugary or watered down.  All dark, dark. dark clothes Dark impeding color.  Dark cars, that masked for an identity that Charles liked, deep dark quality that could crush his opponents, if they even tried to stand in his way.  When he wasn't back mouthing someone, he was researching on how to take down any small business.  Now, I must have my Colombian Roast, or else."



"Or else what?", said Sheila.  "Or else I won't be coming back to Inner Bean." said John.  "Charles wants this, and why not?  he can have whatever he wants, for all I'm concerned."

And with that he slammed down, the light, pretentious roast, she gave him.  Thinking of its sweet, tarty flavor.

  "There's no way, I'm takin' this." said Jenks, who was standing in a corner the whole time, listening to the debate, he rose from his bar stool and left; adjusting his collar and dropping a receipt from his tweed coat pocket in the process of withdrawing his keys. 

"What's wrong, or right with this world?" thought Sheila, grabbing the discarded receipt and looking over Jenks as he left.  "I'll Show this man, that's no way to talk and back to the the espresso machine, she walked briskly.  She began to pack grounded espresso tightly into the presses, and lodge them into the machines with a vulgarity and hardness, releasing her emotion with every twist and pull of the canister.

Sheila just stood there, thinkin' of what provoked Jenks? Was it her stern quality that she regularly applied to every Bean customer?  or her look, she looked over her small reflecting glass that held in place.  by the espresso machine, she fixed her hair and stood out every which way, its usual brown flat quality, the tips of her bangs, steadily turning every which corner of the room it desired.  "Well, I won't have it.  That's all", exclaimed Sheila, and shall called; Shiny her newest barista to the front, entering through a swinging door with a small round peak-a-boo window.  Sheila spoke to Shiny, who stood tall with a candid smile and skinny jeans to match his hard rock personality.

photo"Shiny, I want you to create customer surveys, five questions on each sheet, using the Microsoft word program we have in the back office to adjust font and formatting issue.  Now I DON'T want any of those dainty fonts or heading, I DON'T want you to take an hour putting it together and I'll have the questions pulled off a generic survey found on the "Inner Bean's" website, standard format, get all the coffee aroma graphics, from the site, and when you get done REPORT back to me."




#8 DERRICK+Global Dig+ and Little Miss Muffet


Derek began warming up to the music, he liked to do a bit of air guitar to Lil-Wayne before getting started pulling on white socks to his knees contrasting with his dark thick legs, stretching his fingers arching them over his head and bending over his waste to the right and left.  One crack of his spine told him he was ready to go and than he stepped on his favorite line of the studio floor:green.  doing to poterbure turns, he liked doing these first, it made him look and feel like a professional ballet dancer.  spotting his turns twice, he walked over to his five box plexiwood entertainment center that had one Karaoke box, album venal holding album case. 
Derek loved the old albums.  then walked in the first of the tykes. 

photo"Tewa, my girl" says Derek, "make sure that deb is set up with a private lesson next Wednesday, she's misses 3 Weeks lessons and I want her parents to know that this is NOT acceptable.  If they can't bring her to lessons. then they should pull her out, point blank.  I'm tired of their excuses.  "Yes Dereeeek" Say's Tewa.

Walking g in to the class was Susanne, awkward Susanne, she practiced dance with her heart on her sleeve, she knew the moves in every week, but there was something about Susanne.......too damn quiet thought Derek.

"Get me on the phone with...."

# 7 Faith and interviewing Kenia


"No my husband doesn't live here. No tengo esposa".  Her voice escalating at this accusation,she tossed a curl over her forehead and pursed her lips, lip gloss curling over.

 "Now, if you do have a husband that will not change anything"Faith lied, "You can tell us.

 Kenia, thought she heard a noise upstairs in the perpendicular corner of the ceiling overhead.  A tap, tap sound, and she could kill Freddy if he was even attempting to move, that lazy   pendejo , she felt herself saying under her breath, with a look of suspicion an d anger, Kenia was supposed to be the one with the admiring husband, the one her h.s. peers shake and fawned over.

Instead she was stuck with Freddy, his name being the only cute thing about him, the soccer watchin', short, light skin Freddy, whose khaki pants seemed to almost fall off with pure utter laziness, no that his pudginess couldn' hold them up. 

Kenia felt that his was really a disgust next to her.  Kenia, she exemplified herself for knowing she was an El Salvadoran, princess bragged off her Californian days to Minnesotan, high school students on a regular basis.  She taped pictures of her look-like-a-gangster princess and Alejandro and other friends in her h.s. planner.  She had one love, one love there and half a dozen "propositions"  she wore tight tanks that reflected off her thin, cool dark arms.

Now Minnesota left her wearing long sleeve shirts, tight enough, Lycra with tight silk pants.  She was never found wearing the same pants, leaving only a small tummy for her to complain about.  and platforms.  she could surely chat with Freddy later, right now she moved with a surliness, .

"Well, let's get down to it", said faith.  I'm going to ask you some questions related to welfare, Mfib program for your continued qualification.  Faith shifted and stared straight out the window overlooking, a small apple tree in the front yard, thinking of how it still had x-mas lights on if from the previous winter, and probably every winter, just one tiny six foot tree.  Glancing over her right arm, she ....





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# 6 Sasha and the VAMPIRES

"Can we read something like vampires?"  asked Mariam.

Ms. Sasha Cogdawarts, the teacher winced.  Pre-teen adult hood, how many times, has she read about this age and its promise for the future? There need to read vampire stories and other unethical stories was a pattern she'd have to go with.

 Mariam, Somalian wearing half hijab, "Ninja" they'd call her.  Her clothing barely hanging off her plump, tall body, she wore half skirts half skirts over elastic track pants, and was currently studying over math.

This class seems to suit her and why not?

 Ab, another student, came up to to Sasha, and asked her, "which side of the writers journal shall I write?"

 Ab was standing still for the current moment, not at all thinking about vampires.  Ab was a specific student, Sasha thought, tapping her pencil against the desk, looking off into the distance, as a laminated calendar poked out underneath her arms.









"No my husband doesn't live here. No tengo esposa."  Her voice escalating at this accusation,she tossed a curl over her forehead and pursed her lips, lip gloss curling over.  "Now, if you do have a husband that will not change anything"Faith lied, You can tell us."

Luela, thought she heard a noise upstairs in the perpendicular corner of the ceiling overhead.  a tap, tap sound, and she could kill freddy if he was even attempting to move, that lazy   pendejo, she felt herself saying under her breath, with a look of suspicion an d anger, Luela was supposed to be the one with the admiring husband, the one her h.s. peers shake and fawn over.  Instead she was stuck with Freddy, his name being the only cute thing about him, the soccer watchin, short, light skin F, whose khaki pants seemed to almost fall off with pure utter laziness, no that his pudginess couldn' hold them up.  Luela felt that his was really a disgust next to her.  Luela, she exemplified herself for knowing she was an El Salvadoran princess bragged off her Californian days to mn high school students on a regular basis, taped pictures of her look like a gangster princess and Alejandro and other friends in her h.s. planner.  she had one love, one love there and half a dozen "propositions"  she wore tight tanks that reflected off her thin, cool dark arms.  Now Mn left her wearing long sleeve shirts, tight enough, Lycra with tight silk pants.  she was never found wearing the same pants, leaving only a small tummy for her to complain about.  and platforms.  she could surely chat with Freddy later, right now she moved with a surliness,Global Dig

Well, let's get down to it, said faith.  I'm going to ask you some questions related to welfare, Mfib program for your continued qualification.  Faith shifted and stared straight out the window overlooking, a small apple tree in the front yard, thinking of how it still had x-mas lights on if from the previous winter, and probably every winter, just one tiny six foot tree.  Glancing over her right arm, she ....

Thursday, July 15, 2010

# 5 faith shook the template

Faith shook the latest template the her boss had sent her.

"If I have to deal with one more snot-nosed-cholasa, who comes to me talkin' about give me welfare, I'm going to scream,  pinche , mother ffff.  What does it take around here to get some questions answered? perhaps if I just wore the right sweater vest with the the connected pleated white shirt to match like half of these dozen other prep girls i could go get some work done.  Yeah, I didn't go to Hamline so what! Sue me. I've got bigger fish to fry and half of the fish need to be fried by the end of today." 

She rolled her slicked back hair to her head and sighed.  deciding against dying her hair one more time.

"Let the roots come out", Lala insisted.

"Let the roots come out...Well if I let the roots come out, than I won't be Charlie's Angel anymore, will I?" 


Walking over to her boss's desk, she slammed the translated document down, "I'm done".

 "Your done, your done, huh? just give me a moment." Her boss said.

 "Yes Dorise, Friday will work, two o'clock, huh? You'll have those taken care of as well"  Now let me take a look....He said to Faith.


"Another case of welfare, refuses to work, refuses job training, refuses to submit documents.  How hard can it be to just do this mundane things, learn English, go to school, that's half of there problem?  Now isn't it Faith?

 Faith shrugged to one side and looked over her shoulder, her phone was blinking red, and she'd give anything to hear H's voice again.

"Quite surely, I've already missed the call earlier. Uh, Uh... Jim,she said to her Boss.

 "I've got to grab something off my desk, I'll be back in a sec....

With that, Faith made a  slow and steady sprint, landing in the cubicle's chair, with a hard rump.  Answering on the last ring.

  "Will you take a call from H. of the Columbus, incarceration facility?...

"Yes, yes...I will..,

"Please hold"  said the operator.

 "Baby,?"

 "yeah"

 "Where we were you? 

"Sorry the boss, you know how it is"

"Did he say anything else racist to you again? 

You know I can have the boys take care of him....


No, no no that's all right.

# 4 Derick, Barbara and the BAD GIRLS

Barbara was just one of his components , dance components, who loved the dance, Barbara, with her waves and plates, loved the class in between the youth adult home work, taking the kids to the hip hop class seemed to be just what they needed, although Gracie wasn't the most positive in it, she had came that day in her flip flops, pumping her arms up and down when as song made its mark in her brain, otherwise,

"this is lame" lets get out of here, she's encourage her friend to laugh at other Danes on the side, arms propped up on maps that held her up, or did they hold her? she was merely a post and that when she stood her friend stood and she wouldn't be the only one claiming that this was lame, embarrassed,d improvised. hair hadn't been done in while Gracie was sure to stand straight out, and she had the attitude to match.

 "Let's get out of here" Derek came up Gracie was as courtesy as one who hated having his dance interrupted by one of the street wannabe, too good to dance to dances, to good to show herself thinks she can dance better than yourself, you gonna dance miss? yeah, I'm gonna dance, I'm just waitin' for the right beat, she sauntered out to the dance baby let me lovin you done, push push wir, the air pres sin moves, the dance that mperused to he


Barb, or barbara, stood with her arms crossed her legs cramed up a bit by the end of the dance, she was getting old enough, but not tood old to sow all these girls out, she was one who could single heartedly show eve the baddest urbarn project league leader wor wannabe that their attitude nor impressed her nor stood up by itself byt eh edn of thae day. Let's go ladies she said, shifting the balance from right to left, head propped up and chest puffed otu, Barb, Barbie they called her when no one was watchin' cacklin and whispering their nonchalence at her urgence for them to leave, she stood back and beckoned once again almost taking the girls by the elbows this time, she wasn't havin' it, these girls had to learn their place, respect. she'd turn these girls into responsible, respectable women no matter what it took.

Louise with her hair the color of bleach blong grass, and flat brown patterned converses no socks, and caprice style sweat pants came candidly walkin over , Why. we got go , pop pop, im'm finally hitin' the groove and you see my moves, their outta touch and I got every move pimp paw plouch, with a spin stomp she turned exemplifying the move...


Life magazine had called the specific artist and made their dream come true it was the artist Plocker his work, was seen as viewable by the audience, acceptable.

# 3 Derek and the PERFECT dance

Either way, it was that day that Derek came down the staircase, saying "Let's take a look at that last dance move again, that's right, I knew I was missin' something,"

The video he had envisioned for West's video couldn't do without this particular move, "JabaWakee's would make it work, and so could we!"

Standin' , jumpin' on a  sofa , and POW!!! He came up with the perfect dance uniform: "Red!"

Red was what made soccer players stop in their steps, it was a target that would work.


After a moment, a slippery idea came to Derek that he couldn't do without.  He jotted it down, a  flying under the sofa move, and a disappearin' act that would make the crowd think what the dance artist was capable of.

This is what he thought the audience would think after they saw the moves: Were they invisible? How did the dancer just disappear? That doesn't make sense, appearing out of thin bars, and appearing out of nowhere.

 They would wear big, baggy, clothes:  worn by women who appeared from out of trench coats, and beckoning towards the men. And men would be on king's thrones with braided hair, lookin' out.

"Yes this would do exactly for the video!"

He would pitch the idea to Sandra, writer for the "Shelm studio" off of Brady street. She listened  to all the music recordings' and choreographed some of the moves. She was an editor of "Ethique", and she would know just what to do with his ideas. Derek laughed thinkin' of where exactly


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Sandra came from.

 This small, desk girl had a studio over on Lincoln and Main.  A white, washed building with many purposes.  It was supposed to be "thee community of community centers."  The one that was going to bring young, inhibited youth out of the saunter of gang life and into the hopes of dancin'.

 She was the one who took calls and spoke with the choreographers at the time: telling them to "come on in: anytime."

Taking payment from dancers on time.  She also scheduled dance lessons, and made sure that the customer was satisfied.  Sandra, with hopes of sitting in a big music industry office one day, where she would slide album's in the machine and dismiss any prospective artist dreams.

As of now Sandra was sitting amongst the artists. Her clientele walked in and out of the community center: not really caring half the time.

"Remember the moves from last week?   Tanya and Sheldon can you show Brenda?.....she's new."

She remembered one time, when a white girl came off the streets into her studio and seemed nervous and presumptuous, yet willful that she would learn moves.

Sandra set her up with Money, a dance instructor.   After all, this newbie wanted to start off, right away, and she didn't care what it would take.

The newbie told herself that dance was on her mind that day, and "that was that". Hip hop is where she supposively wanted to get back and Sandra was the one she "supposed" would bring that idea into reality.

"Whatever", Sandra thought to herself.

Brenda stood amongst the teenage students surprised that twelve-year olds were going to teach her that day.

 "No way," she thought. This is just like in the old days of Brenda's childhood, white, dance studio.  She would be forced to dance with immature kids and for what? Wasn't she dedicated enough?"

 Brenda was the type who envisioned herself as the leader of the class one day.

 Nonetheless she took  Money's advice and began learning the move's.  Loathing it, but knowing that she'd rise above this and show them one day.

She'd began by throwing in her own moves and pop lockin', showing them what a white girl was made of.

Sandra came back in the studio periodically.

"Are you doing okay, Tasha?  Sandra asked.

It's Brenda," Brenda said.

 Thinkin of how this Sandra character could careless about what her name was.

"You only got a half lesson, so you could take another class." stated Sandra

"What's the next class?" asked Brenda.

 'Intro to Breakdancing' ,said Sandra.   This time with seven year-old Brandon and twenty-one- year old Kong."

"Okay I guess, I'll try, I've always wanted to learn breakdancing anyway." Brenda said.

 Brenda with her blue shirt, tight long sleeved, cotton shirt, and blue pants with green stripes decided that Breakdancing would fit her.

She kind of just stood there for a moment and then began to step forward and back, and forward and back as Kong had instructed.

Kong was nice enough, for even considering me, she thought to herself.

Little seven-year-old Brandon was already on the floor like a turtle twisting and turning, jumping over his own feet like a ninja, practicing some last move he learned.

 "You almost got it", Kong said.

"Hey, keep on going, while I help this girl- Brenda over here."

"No, it's like this, said Kong.

 "I can't do it, and my body doesn't jump like that." Brenda said.

 But then she supposed it must be able to move. Why, the human body was quite surely capable of anything, its elasticity could maneuver whatever you told it to.

"Dang arm," she said, and watched as Kong modeled it over and over again.

 "Why can't I do it?" Which arm do you need to move?" she asked once again.

Kong frowned, his eye brow furling, over his brown eyes. That day he had chosen to wear tan khaki paints and his converses, the one that enabled his feet to point and shoot of the floor like a grasshopper ready to bounce and this made Kong happy.  His agility, at his age, was still better than seven -year-old Brandon's.

 I'll show this girl, he thought to himself.

"Turn it to track four" he said to little Ricky, another dancer.

 Ricky adjusted the music, it was just the eight of them in the studio that day, but peering at the mirrors with this disaster for a break-dancer, he could feel the mirrors looming in, catching every wrong pivot this girl attempted.

Sweat was beading off this cabbage-patch-looking of a girl.

That's why girls need to be stronger, he thought.

This girl looks like the type who would turn into graved if you moved her in the wrong direction him, he thought.

 "Lets' take a break., Kong said.  Brenda, you just keep practicing the begging-walk-over and do it over and again get it in your head, so that you can slowly position yourself into the ground work. This move is called the side dip turn, and it's not one that can be done, if you don't practice sidling and slowing reachin' your arm to the floor, you got it?" She nodded.


She liked Kong a bit better than the other hip hop dancers. The ones who had more faith in the twelve- year olds that had already rehearsed.

There was something about boy teachers in general that put her at ease.  She didn't care if they judged her, their looks and thoughts weren't always that obvious to her.

And so she  would just shrug and positioned herself and somehow she did manage to let her hand reach back and touch the floor for the breakdancin' move.

This reminded her of that first time she attempted a cartwheel, at the ripe age of twelve, in front of her twenty- square-inch yard.  The one with a hill and seven-foot, white sidewalk with cracks every four feet.

 She memorized those cracks and when she attempted the cartwheel that first time, she was shocked that she couldn't do, even though her brother mastered it with agility.

She simply told herself that it was her short arm length that made her incapable of doing it.

But now?

Now with this surely confidence, this confidence that led her to this meek gym in the most impoverished place in Minneapolis, why surely she could do it now, she thought

 She stood there, though, and kept watchin' little Brandon and frustration had brought reminisce to her eyes and it seemed this dance lesson would drown on and on.

She'd fake the moves, just to get through it, and if all else failed she would do some minor rolls on the floor just to show them that she made it through their phony eight counts.

 Did break-dancin' even have eight counts? she pondered. Or even a certain order to it? Quite surely, it would...

# 2 Derrick, and his studio

Derek's life was one that the ordinary didn't expect.  In between hanging out with the homeboys, he had quite the lifestyle: leading the dance class, putting together dances that would make for the best dance team. Unknowingly, Derek had a plan.....

Propping up his legs on the leather sofa that turned twelve, loveseats out.  He glanced over at the the pom pom that walked over his white, washed floors, (his dog)  He took out his lab top, displaying some of the latest tunes.  Tunes that  would help coordinate dances that Derrick had put together. Derick's sharp, exquisite eyes flashed over the screen.

"A shoulder, poppin' move here " he said.  "Shoulders out, elbows crouched, right left, right left, turn to stop, pout, pout, stop.  Head turn, back turn, tuck, turn, back." 

Getting up, and rehearsing the moves.  "I could add this, I could add that.  There we go, that's it Mommy."  he said.

photoTaking a sip of his southern hospitality (liquor in a plastic cup) filled to the brim with Kool Aid,  he was gurgling it down,and was one step closer to the entertainment center which was five, feet tall.






"You ask me, before you touch this, you hear?" he always said to  any new comer in his home, referring to his entertainment center.

 "You can touch everything else, but don't ever touch this, before you asked me first", he smiled, knowingly.  The entertainment center held all his cds, his music equipment, tv, etc.

 He had a couple more moves to put together and then it would be a wrap.  He would ask Slum to accompany him tomorrow, as they could practice the moves.  His trusty sidekick: Slum was always "thee dependably" , "thee go to person" .  Ladies loved him- muscular, dark, and talkitive, confidence of a gangster rapper, and slenderness that compared indefinitely to Derrick's own waistline that was gaining in size, due to the californiacations, he'd been drinking.

Nonetheless this is what he had to say: "This is out of this world!" referring to the last dance moves he typed out.  He closed his lap top.

Sitting next to his dog, he shook the pup's hand and seemed to drown out the rest of the night.

# 1 Derrick and "Couldn't put Humpty Dumpty back together again"

Derek finally made it to the studio that day, he liked the routine of his studio, with T in charge and Kim, Rhoda, and Muna.  They kept things rollin' the way he wanted.

 T standing behind the booth-like-counter, to the right of a small area where they kept all the documents on dancers payments, and what not.  In the back of the studio, is where all the awards stood, as well as the pictures of dancers in their recital.

This year, a brand new picture of their stars revealed dancers in hula Hawaiian outfits, bright purple top bikini's and brand new furling outfits.  Each stood out., just like they were supposed in the Global Dig of things

He loved putting together that dance for that particular group, because it was a brand new dance that they were experimenting with at the time, "Samba".

photoEven the word "Samba" stood out with an African, Caribbean vibe that spoke fresh and energetic. This was something that clientele loved. The studio's opening had been in the early 90's, and anything new brought on talk, and that talk brought in what he loved even more "clientele".

"Hi Derrek", Sherry said, "How's business going?"

"Well, were on schedule, he loved the early mornings, none of his little, morning, dancing tykes came in yet.  And he had time to free style with the music extremely loud.

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