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You trippin. She smirked dish towel in one hand spoon in the other as I fanned the smoky scent out the window with an old copy of Newsday. She was an uptown girl through and through. Giant door knocker earrings gold rope chain hair scraped back into a perfect ponytail. She wore a tshirt emblazoned with the Puerto Rican flag and 100 in black type stenciled at the top set between a firm set of island grown breasts nipples making an brief appearance from the chill. Her shapely hips squeezed into a pair of Jordache jeans so tight I could read her driver license through the back pocket
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