The era of Turfset.
I first started going to Turf back in 2006? By hanging around long enough, they had to hire me. And that’s how friendships are made my friends!
Click the title for the full read.
Oh those were the good ol’ days. When getting belligerently drunk is what we did. Money was in the pockets. And a lot of Three 6 Mafia was jammin’.
Many empty beer cans and bottles came out of this store. Thinking back, I wish I recycled them all. Do you realize how much money I could’ve made from that???
From drunken wrestling matches, choke outs, punches to the nuts, this was a place where the guys were just being guys. Not that I miss being punched in the nuts, but man those nights were fun. Again, I don’t enjoy being punched in the nuts, so if you see me at the bar, don’t introduce yourself to me by punching me in the groin. A handshake will do.
If-the-walls-could-talk… Fuck that, I don’t need to hear about people with their pants down. A whole lot of fuckery went down in that place. Not speaking from experience, but from the stories told… And those stories will haunt me.
When you’re at Turf, you can see EVERYTHING. Hot chicks getting off the train, the usual creepers, the same Muslim cab driver praying every single day, anything and everything. Shit, I’ve seen HORSES outside of this place. As well as a good amount of 1930s cars being driven by.
Do you know what this is? I sure as hell don’t.
The usual suspects. If it was a Friday night and we weren’t in here, we were at the bar. I’m a little shocked by the lack of bottles on the counter. Trust me, if you’ve been here, you’d be shocked too.
Yours truly, right outside of the shop, is “police station.” Days before I cut off my dreads for my pomp…
I’d share more pictures, but quite frankly, I don’t have any due to the account of being drunk half the time I was there.
Today is my official last day there. Pretty hard, I mean. This is where it all started. If it weren’t for Turf, I wouldn’t know the folks I know today. It was good while it lasted.
The good thing is, they opened up a different shop in SF. Not as easy to get to as Turf was, but. It’s there.
Big thanks to Bwals, Kiya, & Jordan for putting up with my doughnuts. If there wasn’t a doughnut shop directly across the street, I highly doubt I’d have much of a reason to stay there for so long.
So swing by for my last day. I’ll buy you a beer and you can listen to some rockabilly and just kick back and relax. It’s almost Friday, so why the fuck not?
12-7, be there or be punched in the nuts when I finally meet ya.
I’m not great at farewells, so uh… that’ll do, pig.