Warriors, *clink clink,* come out and play.

Getting drunk late in New York is not an advisable survival tactic.

Unless you happen to be an overly optimistic Michigander, a harmless looking Chinese and a tiny tiny Korean girl.

The things about Brooklyn is that its scattered with pubs when you get too far south from the usual upscale haunts of wannabe artists and musicians. Scattered like an epileptic playing darts blindfolded. So, while wandering to look for late night beer after a movie night at the michigander Brooklyn apartment, we unfortunately got lost in gang territory.

See, none of us would have known this if we hadn't run into a burly black kid chilling on his stoop several yards ahead of us. Me, i'm a coward so, I'm wary. Michigander, he's happy, so he says, everything alright. Tiny Korean girl was so spaced I think she was talking to her teddy bears, telepathically, in California.

He walks up to us alone and I'm starting to shit my pants. Unless, i can recall Prem's advise and just kick him in the nuts with my army boots. Unfortunately, because i decided i'm not a fashion victim, I was wearing normal sneakers and knowing the blackman's perchance for big balls, wasn't convinced a kick was going to do much damage.

But hey, nothing to fear right, so says Michigander. He walks ahead to greet black kid with a funky handshake and ask for directions. At this moment, I'm checking the shadows for ninjas, and other bad 80s teenage movie cliches. Hoping, just hoping Korean girl's space talk was atually some form of secret language able to summon bahumut when most needed.

As it turns out though, and much to my surprise, and my bowels relief at not being prematurely evacuated, Black kid does have directions and plenty of advice. Which he happily shared with us when he took us down to the river to have a couple of drinks. Apparently, our unholy trio had manaed to luck out by meeting the nicest gangster affiliate in Brooklyn.

1. Don't wear a blue bandana anywhere south of Park Slopes near the projects. Its an invitation to get beaten up.

2. Spike Lee is a filmic god among black men there. Peter Jackson is a white fat cracker.

3. Gang fights can result over an argument of which Yu-gi-oh cards are better played.

4. Black kids speak like they stepped out of a Quentin Tarantino movie. Mostly.

So i survived, sort of made an acquaintance and now know a little more about surviving Brooklyn. I shall now take my newfound confidence and see if i can go through south Bronx.

Good luck to me.