home-me or homie?

most of you (yes, all five of you who read this blog) have heard this story, but i feel compelled to capture it in one place, if only so that i can relish in the absurdity for years to come.

one of the guys i work with has some how gotten it in his head that i am his "homie." i'm not sure how this happened, since i only ever see him once a week in a meeting that is usually attended by at least five other people. apparently, that makes us tight.  it also makes me gangsta.  who knew?

i first realized the extent of how tight we are when he responded to one of my weekly coverage emails with something along the lines of "yo, homie.  i ain't never gonna friend my parents on fb. that's how they be findin' things out.  that reporter be trippin'."

right.  

 

my next interaction with homie happened when i emailed him asking him to review a list that i put together, to which he responded with an email that started with "HEY PLAYA." (emphasis NOT added by the author.)

uh-huh.

and finally, my most recent homie conversation involved some old fashioned bartering -- he gave me the contact information for a third-party developer, and i gave him... the opportunity... to give me a new nickname: hustler.

i wish i could make up shit this good, but i'm not quite baller enough.