Recently, I made friends with a couple biker strippers by a kabab stand off 37th and Main. Only more like motocross male-hookers. They’re big fans of an Instagram account of mine all about where we live: Flushing, Queens. All their posts for all three Instagram accounts was them doing stunts on the BQE (mostly wheelies) and giving women lap-dances, which I questions who did the blur-outs to make things IG uncensored. They didn’t understand the question.
It’s a predominately Mandarin and Korean speaking community, but people know English and I can’t learn language for shit. But these dudes were getting kabab — me, I got falafel — and we’re watching this illegal cigarette deal go down in the ATM of Charles Scwab. This Korean lady takes from her wire-cart two cartons of unregulated, foreign cigarettes and gives them to some Turkish dude as he hands her a wad of cash. They walk out and toward us, but the Turkish dude yells something in Korean at her, and she beings to walk the other way. Turkish dude says something in Mandarin to the stripper-bikers I’m standing next to, something in a Turkic language to the cart-mans, and looks at me and goes “no-ticket,” rolling his eyes.
Turkish dude walks away, cart-mans says Turkish dude works at the book-shop around the corner and knows a bunch of shit, and then “Flow State” by Tzusing drops on the stripper-bikers’ BluTooth speaker, so of course, I’m like, “FOH!” They leave me at the five-minute mark and I only see them all one more time since in a hair-salon off Union that I think doubles as a bar, but I might be wrong. That might not’ve been them.
Fuck on the new Tzusing release 一瞬千撃 on Bedouin Records. OUT NOW!
