It was an atypical Sunday. No coffee, no crumbcake, and certainly no pants.
Sunday marked the first Black Ops street art performance, with eight brave souls ditching their pants and bracing themselves for the scowling winds and awestruck stares of New York City.
It started with a power hour. As the beer flowed the core temperature rose and pretty soon the apartment looked like an adult film awards after party. At the stroke of noon we went mobile, ten guys, one van.
Huddled in the back of an unmarked industrial van, the music started and the day took off. A dance circle emerged in the crowded and dark trunk alternating between the deep house of Booka Shade and rap anthems like X Gon Give It To Ya. The van skidded to a stop and the doors burst open as the animals were let out of the cage. Strolling down Soho’s sunlight cobblestones, eyes like magnets gravitated to the milky thighs adorned with Ace & Everett’s brightest and most captivating socks.
Leaving Soho, the van headed north towards Grand Central Station.
Emerging at the entrance to the infamous underground, we had our first run in with New York’s finest. The man in blue apprehensively approached the group like a divorced man at a dinner party who just worked up the courage to say hello. “What’s going on here?” Struggling to maintain a straight face while examining the scene, I matter-of-factly replied, “we are showing off our socks,” to which he raised both eyebrows before telling us to carry on.
With the law on our side, we slid down the railings and entered the palatial space. Making a scene and grabbing some Shake Shack sustenance before walking to our final location, Time’s Square.
Entering the madness, someone dressed as Buzz Lightyear came up to the group, paused, and threw out a Marshawn Lynch crotch grab. Still no sure, but I think he wanted to join us.
Posing with the costumed professionals, we soon became the attraction with women flocking around and questioning us, “how much?” This was the first time many of us had been propositioned, and hopefully not the last.