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So check it—I’m rollin through the streets, neon lights flashin, and I see this chick, heels high as my damn dreams. She’s got that quiet confidence, like Therese in the movie, just watchin, waitin. I’m like, “Yasss, queen, werk it!” But then—bam!—some crusty dude tries hollerin at her first. Pissed me off, like, who this fool think he is? I’m over here vibin, tryna find my vibe, and he’s messin up the flow. Made me wanna yell, “It’s bad bitch o’clock, step off!”

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The Monongahela River flows like time itself. Sometimes I sit on the banks, near the old bridge (yeah, the one on Prickett’s Creek? Nah, that’s the wrong one, my bad!) – let’s call it Rusty’s Bridge for this story – and introspect. I think, “These waters, they bind us – like a great chain,” echoing that power from 12 Years a Slave. “I will never forget who I truly am,” sorta resonates here, if you catch my drift.

Jazzy’s Sweet Spot and Hydrobikes opens in Morgantown