Suffra be getting famous

The grey Sentra tore ass down the highway, dodging rain drops and weaving excessively through hordes of old people drivers.

Inside the vehicle, The Suffra sat chainsmoking with the window closed to shield himself from the rain. Engulfed in a cloud of his own smoke, and gasping for air he found himself cursing the god of rain "the rain god," for stuffing him in this shitty position.


"Fuckin Shool," I said out loud, as a semi attempted illegally to overtake me in the left lane of the highway. I thumbed through the papers at my side, waving the clouds of smoke to the side just to read the letter from my College, letting me know that it is essential for me to go to campus.

"not today," I muttered towards the 18 wheeler as I floored the gas long enough to get ahead of him, slamming on the brakes once I was squarely in front of him, just to see it jackknife and flip into the divider...

with the exception of some traffic light altercations, in which The Suffra had to open an old's man's door and wake him up so he can see that the traffic light turned grean, the rest of the drive in was uneventful...

"It always rains when I come here," I thought as I circled the parking lot for three hours looking for a spot to park. Laughing nearly every other time it happened, the last time I realized that what I thought was going to be an open spot ended up being a small car parked next to a little car.. I decided to plow the little car which disguised itself as an open space, and send it crashing into the Law School.. and proceeded to head to the administration office...

"I'm here," I screamed as I walked into the financial aid office, startling the receptionist momentarily, "You sent me a letter with the word URGENT on it, so I'm here," I continued, slamming on her desk..

"have a seat," she said, pointing towards a sea of chairs, all filled with apathetic looking 20 somethings, waiting, "URGENT" letters in hand..

"I guess I'll just have a stand," I said in my, I know it's not funny, I'm not trying to be, I'm trying to let you know I'm pissed voice.

"Whatever," she shot back in her, I make minimum wage voice.. and The Suffra's eye began to twitch.

I took my place amongst the chairs, not sitting, rather finding an awkward angle to stand at, which should have shielded me from eye-contact and conversation.


"got an Urgent letter huh?," apparantly my trajectory was off...

Without turning, I grabbed my eyelid, attempting to manually override the twitch which was beginning to run down my cheek, "please don't talk to me right now... please," I pleaded sincerely.

"I got one too."


GREAT I thought, He's in a chatty mood

"Listen buddy," I said turning around to begin some strange monologue guaranteed to end in a tard smack... but my tirade was cut short...

loser chatty kid wasn't attempting to talk to The Suffra. He was trying to pick up nerdy "I smell shit," faced girl sitting next to him...

Shit I realized, This one miscommunication officially makes chatty loser kid cooler than me for the sole fact that I flubbed on his target... FUCK

Hours pass inside these sterile walls, as one by one, the kids with the "URGENT" letters get called up, when it's finally The Suffra's time to go, minimum wage making lady points to a desk replete with older making slightly more than minimum wage, hates her career, life choices, and people around her lady...

I took a seat... "I have an 'URGENT' let.."

"NAME?" She cut me off... SHE CUT ME OFF

"The Suffra," I said angrily, the entire right side of my face twitching at this point.

"First name?"... and the pace is set, apparantly this woman loves nothing more than making people with futures seem dumb in her own mind... which means I don't have to play nice..

"THE," I said shortly, "that's why I spell it uppercase."

"I can read thank you," She said, obviously shaken by my superior witt..

"Very good," I said clapping my hands, then patting her head, then giving her breast a quick squeeze right below the knee as I winked and shot the finger gun," now why was it urgent that I come here?"

obviously bitter from the verbal bitch slap, she went to silent mode.. tapping away at the computer in front of her, and fiercely avoiding eye contact with The Suffra...

Steady I thought, this is a trap remembering embittered old airport worker, DMV lady, and bank teller who attempted to set this trap for me...
any attempt to ask why she went into silent mode, or what she was doing would have been met with the raised index finger, and perhaps even the annoyed "ONE SECOND," thus tipping the scales in her favor...

To show that I was wise to her ways, I leaned back in my chair, and began trying to find new areas that aren't proper to scratch (I'd been told I scratch my balls too much).

Just as I thought I'd run out of places to scratch, and snaked my hand down my gut to reach the golden scratching land she cleared her throat...
"you need to fill out your FAFSA"

"..." I said, and realizing that I hadn't actually said anything continued, "The one I'm supposed to fill out online?"

"yes"

My fist stopped inches from her shin which was shielded by her saggy breast, "Why am I here?"

"that was it," She said, smirking gently realizing that she had gotten the upperhand finally..

"BULLSHIT," I screamed slamming my closed fist down on the desk and executing the one hand cigarette light with perfection...

"now," I said, blowing smoked into her toothy grin, being sure to aim for the gaps in the front teeth, "you go find me something to sign, or hand me a piece of paper that only you have before I shit down your blouse."

"There's nothing for you," she said, still smiling, attempting not to show fear...

"What's this?" I said picking up a piece of paper out from under her "I hate mondays" coffee mug..

"Those are the results from my last pap smear," she said, "apparantly I may have to go in for.."

I quickly stole a pen from the "I hate tuesday's" coffee mug, Signed the Pap Smear results, crumbled them into a ball, and punch forced them through the woman's fuckin throat...

I smile ran accross my face, as I stood and shook her breast, "thanks for your time"

Now it was time to go

The smell of cured pork rotating slowly on a spit filled the air while the sounds of atonal high pitched screeching reverberated off of the Queens monoliths. Down the alley, barkers peddling games were flattering women and defying men to test their manhood in the only true test of virility: by symbolically pissing into a clown's mouth until a pink balloon explodes.

"This is absolutely amazing," I said to myself staring around at the largest congregation of Greeks since.... I'm going to guess Church.

Events like these, usually set up by local Greek youth groups along with the church, are designed for one purpose... to ensure that the people of the hosting city get absolutely no sleep whatsoever. Normally the Suffra would avoid crowds of this magnitude, but somewhere in this orgy of chest hair and arrogance is the holy grail of caffeine fiends: The Frap.


The Frap's Quick Stats:

Invented by some god damned genius in ancient Greece (back when the Greek's actually contributed to society) as a way to enjoy all the pleasures of caffeine, even in ass melting temperatures.
While at first glance it would seam to be some type of cold coffee, in reality, it is a small animal, captured from the sprawling fields below Meteora, and raised in a small cage. Periodically The frap scientists (Frapentists) would inject these lovable creatures with large doses of caffeine, and pure magical goodness..
So...

There walks the Suffra, proud, tall, the top 8 buttons on his shirt wide open, crazy gumby gold nestled deep in his freshly teased chest hair (merely a disguise which helps him blend with his environment), staring down young greek thugs blasting the rap music, and singing along like they connect with it...

I was just about to grab one of these Pimply pimps by his backwards "thuglife" hat, and try to snap kick him out of his apparant epileptic seizure, when I heard...


"ELLA REY SUFFROS," ringing out from behind me.

While this may seem like complete gibberish to most, the fact that someone used the greek pronunciation of my name (Suffros) and used the infamous Ella Rey, (It is a greek term, which replaces what we commonly reffer to as a "comma" in english.. and roughly translated, it means "I have a small penis and am reaffirming my manlihood") allowed me to understand that a Greek man was trying to get my attention...

I turn to see where this commotion just came from, and standing before me is a four foot nothing 60 year greek man (Greek men slowly shrink into old age), holding up two shots of a rare Grecian alcohol which uses include lightning lamps, cleaning wounds, and getting stinko. There was no hair on this man's bean, but he styled his ear and nose hair into a classy sideburn goatee combo. His shirt was fully buttoned, which would signify that he suffers from what the greeks call "balding."


"Do you remember me Rey?" Which I of course didn't, so instead of answering I just grabbed one of the shots from his hand.

This alcohol is so spectacular, you can actually begin to feel its effects shortly before you drink it... I steady myself a moment, and try to stop the mild spinning around me, while holding the shot up to the gods...

"I was your father's first cousin," he said, establishing our relation, and leaving me wondering why he isn't my father's first cousin any more...

With the pleasantries out of the way, we slugged our shots (customary tradition for meeting new relatives) and then threw the empty glasses directly into the crowd as hard as we could...

as my glass shattered onto the head of some unsuspecting passerby, my father's ex-first cousin melted back into the background. As is customary, the man who was hit in the head with my shot glass popped open another button on his shirt, and fanned out his chest hair. Luckily, it was obvious that I dwarfed this man in the chest hair department, which establishes me as his superior, and spares me from a fight, but unlucky for me, a glazed look came over his face when he saw me, and he screamed,


"SUFFROS, IT'S ME, YOUR COUSIN."

Although, it is important to note, that the word cousin holds different meaning for Greeks than it does for most people. In this scenario, cousin does not mean that his father or mother are my uncle or aunt... it just means I'm about to take another shot, and that's exactly what happened.. I opted not to throw my glass this time, letting it fall gently to the ground, in fear of hitting another "cousin."


In the homeland, there are 12 year oldswho can drink an entire harvest's worth of this strange brew (which is reffered to as Ra-ki (Rah like the sun god, a one beat pause, then the word key... like the key), in this world tho, 2 shots is what heroine addicts would reffer to fatal dosage, and side effects now include actually enjoying greek music, simply knowing how you are related to every person around you, and playing backgammon...

This lead two to distinct outcomes,

First, I drank a shot with nearly every man woman and child at this festival. Near the end I was just pointing shot glasses in random directions, shouting the word "COUSIN," then letting myself fall to the ground as the Raki emptied itself into my stomache.

After I finished my last shot, my legs gave out, sending me falling into a chair accross from an old man, waiting for an opponent at a set backgammon table...

Backgammon's Quick Stats:

Very old, very odd game, the points and procedures of which are only understandable to foreigners and drunks, and being that I happen to be a little bit of both at this time... I roll my dice...


"Wait Rey," The old man says to me furrowing the brow of his chest hair angrily,
"Have you been drinking?" He asked sizing me up and down..

For lack of a better answer, I belched a little vomit onto the backgammon board...

"Ok, OK REY," He said, "well... How much?"

I attempted to spin my neck around to point at my family, but ended up doing a full 360 and pointed the old man in the face, "I think I got all my cousins," I mumbled...

"POLI OREA," He screamed clapping his hand down on the table, in an attempt to show me how Greek he is, "I have me my cousins too," He said wiping the vomit spiddle from the side of his mouth, "This of course means.. that this is a championship match."

When playing backgammon with an old greek man, you have to play by what are commonly reffered to as "street rules," and you gotta represent oldschool to these fuckers or they might make you their bitch, forcing you to marry their ugly daughter with as little as one goat in return.

I pulled out my "Keepin' It Real, Old Greek Guy Street Rules Book," and found that, in fact yes, any game played in which both participants had just drank with every member of their extended family is considered a chamionship match... so it began

The complexities and nuances of this game are so esoteric, much of the match will be left to the imagination, but in the end, the Suffra was not looking good at all.. One shot of the vile alcohol after every roll (street rules) and every family member screaming at you while you attempt to play (street rules).. and the Suffra was on the brink of losing...

I looked up at the nameless old Greek guy, moments before his guaranteed to win final roll, and said, "it looks like I have no choice,"

I grabbed the edge of the table and flipped it as hard as I could, sending dice scattering to land on double sixes and chips sailing through the air. With nothing between me and the old man, I lunged forward and gave him a perfectly executed backhand bitchslap, dropping him like a punk into a nearby sewer grate...

Just as I was going to walk away, the old man stopped me,

"I underestimated you," He said modestly, averting his eyes from my chest hair out of respect, "You understand street rules like no youngen I ever played against.."

Winning the match in the original old school style entitled me to some spoils... So I rode home on the oldman's most beautiful daughter, with my new mule holding me tightly from behind.