Your Favorite White Boy

They say confession is good for the soul. Today we offer another installment of The Confessional, a new feature on Your Favorite White Boy, where your man B-Double will be confessing certain things that he would not dare bring up in the company of his hip-hop brethren.

Bless me Reverend Run for I have sinned.

It’s been 7 days since my last confession.

I was checking a great post over at daily read The Smoking Section about a brush with some big stars, and it made me think about my own.   About a year or so again, I had an encounter with a hip-hop legend.  And I totally wussed out at the opportunity.  I was celebrating my anniversary with my wifey in downtown Toronto.  We decided to ditch the kiddies and spend the night all classy like – dinner, a show and then spend the night at one of the upscale hotels in the financial district.

After the show, her and I head back to the hotel to relax in our kid-free room.  I’m walking in the lobby and who is cooling in the lounge with one of his boys?  None other than Ice Cube.  I had remembered that he was in town for a show to promote Laugh Now, Cry Later in Canada.

So, I’m walking in and I have a quick decision to make:  do I jump over, get an autograph, maybe a pic with the cell phone camera?  Do I just give him dap and break out?  Cube’s in an all black khaki suit with black chucks a matching Dodgers cap.  And here I am in a suit feeling all nerdy.  Won’t he be wondering why I wasn’t at the show?  Is he going to think I’m a cop?

All that kept going through my head was the line from his first solo album:  “Women you can ride, but man be a man/Shake my hand and make it a firm shake/say ‘what up, ice cube?’ and then break.”  I need to play this real smooth like.  So what did I do?

I looked him straight in the eye, gave him the old “guy nod” and…. kept on walking to the elevator.   Of course I passed Westside Connection partner W.C. on the way there and walked right by as well.   I’m. An.  Idiot.

The one upside is that when I looked at Cube he kinda looked back with this half grin which told me he knew I recognized him.  He probably thought it was a trip that some white dude with his girl in a suit in downtown Toronto knew who he was.  I guess that shouldn’t be a surprise.

The ride up the elevator was a mixture of feet stomping, cursing and hands slapping on foreheads.  Not my proudest moment, to be sure.  Shortly after, I had to go back down because my wife had left something in the car.  I was determined that if he was still there, I would man up and go up to him.  He was obviously gone.

So, I missed an opportunity to meet a legend in the game only because I was worried I’d look like a nerd.  Well, that happened anyway.  I suck.

In the name of the God’s Son, The Father MC and the Holy Ghostface.

Tags: Ice Cube