No one likes the sweaty palmed kid. It is a simple fact of life. I actually prefer to say "excuse me sir, but your palms are awfully moist for this time of the year." Because in all honesty someone with overly hydrated hands is usually hiding something. For instance, the last time I had a case of wet palm before yesterday was when i had a Brunswick Stu brewing in my bowel area. We've all had our shining moments of rectal clench, but it can get bothersome when you have to stand a particular way (heels together, forming a V with your feet) in order to subdue the geyser that awaits within. I know that this isn't pleasant, but sweaty palms are weird and they are the focal point of my yesterday.
So I went to Def Jam in Manhattan to help with an interview with Rick Ross the Fat Bearded Boss of Miami. Lugging equipment around the city is no easy task. I probably took out between 3 or 4 people with my bag, but it's ok because it was just a few legless VFW's and Asians. Thats terrible and i know it but i speak the truth, or as Mr. Ross would put it, "I spit the truf nigga." Ok, so we make it inside the Def Jam building and there is Rick Ross in all his bearded glory. Not much of an entourage though, which in my mind meant LOSER. Christ had an entourage of 12, Rick Ross could at least try to match JC's posse. So Rick and his meager following head up to the office where the interview will take place and we follow close behind.
Oh no, not now. I try deep breathing techniques. i have 20 seconds to fix this and BAM! "Hey Rick, this is Bly," his publicist says as i go to shake the Boss' hand. All i can think at this point is god dammit this guy is gonna have puddles on his hand when i get through with this shake. Yes, you read that correctly we "shook" hands. i would have gone for maybe a high or low five but i didn't want to splash on him. As we embraced hands it felt like an eternity, until i realized something magical. Here i was, palms a drippin', shaking hands with a fellow sweaty palmed gentleman. So as I gazed into Rick's Gucci sunglasses, and our damp hands clutched one another in perfect sweaty palm harmony, i wondered why? Was he actually nervous to meet me? Nah, the fat man just needed to drop heat.
I love you Rick Ross, you were awesome
