The Other Side Of The Galaxy 08.12.05: Fitty & Me
Posted by Ari Berenstein on 08.12.2005
50 Cent looks like…he’s right in front of me.
Fitty & Me
When your trip to Philadelphia begins with celebrity spotting 50 Cent and the G-G-G-G-G G-UNIT at the Grand Regency Hotel and ends with the fiancé of your close friend throwing up at five in the morning in the back of a taxicab after a long night of bachelor-partying… you know that you’ve had an adventure. You also know that it’s gonna be pretty good fodder for your next column for 411. So, putting aside the bachelor party story and me drinking my first and second glasses of beer (CM Punk would be so disappointed in me), let’s not get into the stories where the names of the guilty have to be changed to protect the innocent. Let me take you the ONE HUNDRED PERCENT true story of a close encounter of the hip-hop kind.
So I’m heading into Philly with “Scott L.” (the fiancé) and “Joe R.” (the fiancé’s soon to be brother-in-law and also a close personal friend of mine). We’re making good time, so we stop for a short tour of the Saint Joseph’s College campus, where Scott used to attend college. We then take a lunch at Larry’s Steaks (why does every steak place in Philly begin with someone’s first name?) and have the expected, traditional and patented Philadelphia Cheese Steak. Heading into Centre City (Central Philly) in the SUV, we spot three FREAKING HUGE tour buses. Someone big is here. Well it doesn’t take long to figure it out, because on each of the buses are murals so big satellites in space could get a clear picture. The murals are of 50 Cent and…
G-G-G-G-G – G UNIT!
Sorry, that was the last time.
We all look at each other and I can tell we all have the same thoughts about this, “no way… yes, yes way! That is Fitty Cent’s tour bus!” We’re all sporting huge smiles… its not that we’re Fitty’s biggest fans… not by a long shot. It is extremely cool however that an hour and a half into our trip, we find ourselves at the same point the Anger Management Tour’s traveling circus has parked its bus, so to speak. There’s also, and this is no lie, I swear, a fried chicken truck trying to double park near the tour buses.
If it wasn’t a coincidence, I’d swear it would be ghetto fabulous.
We’re about a block and a half away from our hotel of choice, the Holiday Inn on Walnut and 13th Street. So Scott, Joe and I proceed to check ourselves in and put our bags and such away in the very conformable, very spacious and very affordable ($110 for two beds!) room. Then we make book out of there, just to see if we have half a chance of even seeing any of Fitty and his crew. Hey, they’re in Philly, we’re in Philly, let’s do it.
Heading towards the Grand Regency, there seems to be not too many citizens aware of Fitty’s presence, although the 30 or so that are there seem to be fans…black and white in equal numbers…mostly normals, but there were a few wiggers, to be sure. We soon find out why the number isn’t as large as it should be with such star power in the hizzouse… see, Fitty and the Anger Management Tour are playing not in Philly, but rather in Camden, New Jersey, which is a thirty minute or so drive away. Not many people would figure on using Philly as the base of operations for the Anger Management HQ (but now the secret is out I guess). As time goes on, the number does increase steadily, so that by the time Lloyd Banks, Tony Yayo, Mobb Deep (who is on the tour along with 50) and others are rollin’ out and about on the street, there’s a total of about thirty to forty fans on each side of the Hotel’s side entrance, for a restaurant called “The Grill”. Finally, one policeman comes on the scene just to negotiate the small number of people there and keep the street open for pedestrian traffic.
The vibe was actually quite positive and again, I have to admit that even though I wasn’t some obsessed fan, I was quite giddy about this experience. One, there’s the thrill of a vacation and just doing things for the sake of doing them. For two, it’s been a while since I’ve done any meet and greet type situation, and if you’ve read my Meeting and Greeting People Is Easy column, then you know my history with the meet and greet. Number C, since its Fitty Cent we’re talking about here, the danger factor of multiplies considerably, so those endorphins are flowing quite rapidly at that point. Hey look, he did get shot nine times, you never know if or when number ten happens, right? I’m just smiling this giddy smile, taking in the whole process, taking in the young kids peering over to catch a glimpse at a rap star or two, taking in the hotel employees fretting about and trying to control the entrance to the restaurant and taking in all these G-Unit crew members walking into a chic restaurant in T-shirts, shorts and do-rags. No shirt, no shoes no service? I don’t think so, not if you’re rolling deep with Fitty.
About fifteen minutes after we start waiting, a little kid comes out and gets into one of the vans parked in front of the restaurant entrance. A woman and a few others soon follow. A few minutes later, I spot the kid in the driver’s seat pretending to drive, and the woman lighting up a joint—ten feet away from that police office. Excellent supervision of children, ma’am. As this is happening, I’m on the sidewalk edge, right next to this van and standing in front of this potted plant that has a bottle of Pepsi sticking out of it—and that makes me laugh even more. This is just sooooo ghetto.
Finally, thirty minutes into waiting for the men (which actually isn’t bad at all considering previous meet and greet experiences), here he is… FIFTY CENT, five dimes and all, walks out of the restaurant entrance to a nice pop. Applause and shouts from the men, women, children, fans and the total and complete mystery entities who just happened to luck out and find themselves face to face with a modern rap entrepreneurial superstar. Love him or hate him, the excitement that is derived from that moment of being near “someone” or “something” that’s happening just cannot be denied. Fitty is dressed just how you’d expect him to be dressed, which is to say just like everyone else in G-Unit, in street clothes. He gives a wide, seemingly genuine smile, a quick wave to everyone out there, and then he gets ushered into a waiting van by his security. No autographs, but Scott snaps a couple of pictures, with a clear view and everything. Shows over, but DAMN wasn’t it fun while it lasted.
Should we have been upset with not getting autographs or personal picture with Fitty? Absolutely not. It was one of those rare, out of nowhere events that you just go with and see what happens. We expected nothing of the sort to occur on our trip into Philly, so right off to bat this event of happenstance puts us in the plus column. As a personal side effect of this experience, I get a damned great story to tell to my students in class this September. You kidding me? They’re going to freak, especially once I get the photographic evidence to show them my up close and personal experience with Fifty Cent.
The last few minutes of hanging around The Grand Regency finds Scott taking a picture of Joe and I posing in front of the Anger Management Tour buses… I’ll leave you to guess what kind of poses we struck. The rest of the Philadelphia trip isn’t for public consumption, but let’s just say there was lots OF consumption on the part of some of the parties involved (other than me, of course) and leave it at that. Of course the trip couldn’t have continued without just one or two more 50 Cent related side notes. The following day Joe purchased the New York Post—and there’s Fifty on the cover. New York Daily News? There’s Fifty on the cover. The Anger Management Tour also hit Madison Square Garden, in my hometown of NYC, this week. It seems like that wherever I go, Fitty is sure to follow me.
Then there’s the news that Lloyd Banks and Young Buck were arrested on felony gun possession in New York on August 10th. Of course there were two guns and twelve men in the van, but all twelve men were charged. Hmmm, I know I was never good at math, but I guess the cops aren’t packing calculators along with their heat these days either, because that doesn’t seem to add up.
You know, maybe Fitty and I should just part company right about now. We’ll always have Philadelphia.
