Whenever someone from NY says we’re going to a BBQ (Korean BBQ, or any other ethnicity’s BBQ) translate that to block party.
The invite is also non inclusive. Last night at the Guyanese BBQ, everyone from young adults, moms, dads, grandparents, & children with no bedtime were at this block party.
The food was basically a hefty variation of what Caribbean people typically cook: macaroni pie, potato salad, stewed chicken, jerk chicken,stewed beef, oxtail, roti, yellow rice, curry, plantains, etc; lots of liquor, soca/dancehall music/ east coast hip hop (eg: biggie, Jay-z).
No one was shy about dancing. I have grandmas/ grandpas recorded that we’re getting down to the music.
If you’re not dancing you’re labeled “stiff”. No one wants to be labeled “stiff”. I didn’t care though. I acted too cute to get raunchy per usual.
Oh. I met a cutie there; a light-skinned, Guyanese, baby faced, cutie, on the edgy side, but looks “too cute to be a rough neck” kind of guy that you don’t usually date or take home to dad, but you have fun with short term, because he’s cute and treats you like you’re 10x more intelligent than you are. Yea, those are my standards when I’m NOT looking 😏
I’ve playfully saved him in my phone as “Brooklyn Bae”. Oh gosh, when did I start embracing that
I’m probably going to keep my promise and text him to hang out before I leave Wednesday.
Having a ball with life. You’ll die taking it too seriously. Maybe it’s an age phase thing, who knows.