Java couldn’t get over it – the definition cracked him up.

Sheeet maan, reminds me of dat chick dat da Sandman be talkin bout. Remember dat story I be tellin yo bout dat Abstruse Teatre number we be seein down dere on Santa Monica Boulevard? Weelll, when we com outta dat place, Chloe, da Sandman and me, we walk on over to dis small Turkish restaurant on da corner to check out some of dat dolma, kofte an doner kabab we be hearin so much bout. So we sit our asses down an dis platinum blonde chick com over to take our order fo drinks. She be lookin nice – not drop-dead gorgy or nuttin like dat, but she be okay and be reeal pleasant like. Aannyways, we look at dat list an tink we try som of dat tradishunal Turkish beverage an Chloe, she order som apple tea, Sandman and me, we go fo dat raki, caus we hear it be like our arrack, but made from anise.

Da chick – her name be Almas – was Turkish and com over to LA when she be jus ten. Her parents be runnin da place an she be goin to college, studyin law. Da Sandman be lookin interested and after she bring us dem drinks, he be tryin to engage her in conversashun like. Lucky fo his ass dere be jus two odders in da place, so she not be so busy. Chloe be blowin her mind over dat apple tea and I don mind dat raki so much – tho it not be a patch on our own local  brew, but da Sandman already finish his in no time and aks fo one more. Meanwhile, we order som dolma, kofte and donner kabab wit pilaf, while watchin ol Sandman make his play.

Almas bring us da food an maaan, let me tell yo ass, it jus melt in da mouth. Dose stuffed grape leaves – three different types – wit mince lamb, wit aubergine and wit peppers, all mixed wit nuts, rice and odder stuff. Dere be a creamy sauce an yoghurt to go wit dem dolmas. Den dat kofte – sheeet man, yo had to be dere! An dose doner kababs – I don even wan to start! So we stuff ourselves an den have som of dat outta sight baklava for desert an follow dat up wit som of dat Turkish coffee. Don miss dis place when yo get yo butt down to dat city, hear? Yo won regret it maaan, let me tell yo.

We get ready to split, so Almas bring us dat check an we settle. As we walk to dat door, da Sandman tell us to wait jus a minit and scurry his ass back in dere. So Chloe an I, we walk slowly down dat boulevard until Sandman catches up, his eyes bright an gleamin like he has scored. We move on down to Chloe’s apartment an get dat music on an get ready fo som nice relaxin after dat scrumpshus grub. Sandman lights up da incense and I get dose Zig Zags out. Chloe’s got som Turkish music on – mandolins an dat sheet, so I aks her to get ‘Birdland’ on caus I know she has dat Zawinul classic done by a bunch of greats conducted by Quincy on his ‘Back on da Block’ album. An so we trip on out.

To make a long story short, Java told me how Sandman had organized to pick Almas up the next evening, how they’d had dinner, checked out ‘Bandidos’ for some nightlife and ended up in Sandman’s pad.

So like da Sandman say, one ting be leadin to anodder an in da course of conversashun he be aksing Almas bout her blonde hair. Almas say dat dere be som pure blonde Turks, whose ancestors com down from nort Europe an dat her mom’s folks originated somewhere in Scandinavia. So dey be havin som wine and sheet an when he get ready fo dat nitty-gritty and slowly be tryin to get her clothes off, she tell him to put off dat light. He tink dat she be shy – maybe even a virgin, so he turn off dat light an only have dat dim nite-lite wit its warm reddish glow on. An den dey be gettin on down.

Much later Sandman get up to take a leak an when he turn dat toilet light on, dat shaft of light illuminate da bed an dat bod lyin dere. She be lookin good, strech out on her stomach – her shapely buns catchin dat light jus right. An den, as he watched, she turn herself over an Sandman’s eyes pop outta his head to see a lush growth of da purest, darkest black.

Java said that after the initial surprise, it was no big deal for Sandman – it was just that he wasn’t expecting it and it blew him away to see that Almas wasn’t blonde the way she said she was. As Java put it:

Dat’s why dat definishun of ‘aeroplane blonde’ crack me up, maaan – one who has bleached/dyed her hair but still has a ‘black box’ – shure as sheet fit Almas all da way down.

Know what I be sayin, maaan?

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