Representing the (Sesame) street meets real street

So I'm on the bus yesterday, just riding in to the office wearing my "Representing the Street" T-shirt, featuring Cookie Monster, Big Bird, et al. And when the express part of our trip ended in South Seattle, a couple of guys climbed on the bus and started talking in the tone and style of young men sharing tips on going to college, moving out of the family home, first jobs, etc.

"Work out in the morning, every morning" one said. "And don't share food with anyone."

The last bit struck me odd, and I soon realized that they weren't talking about college.

"I'm always the last one out ... got an an eye on my cellie until they're asleep ... hope you don't end up in a cell with some big Bubba ... I feel bad for guys who ain't from the hood, they go in and they got no one."

Talk turned to jailhouse "relations" just before my stop, with the sharer of knowledge describing how he'd seen a white boy getting raped but didn't do anything about it. He talked about how he'd be dead before that happened to him. And said it all with what seemed to be genuine love for the guy he was speaking to. Though he might not be willing to call it that, you know, 'cause that might be too much like a step toward being "bent over."

And I was suddenly quite self-conscious about my shirt.