Pimpin' my ride

So I'm thinking of re-covering the seats of my Silverado in leather, right? I look in the phonebook under "Upholstery" and found a couple places that sound OK. Actually, there are only two places in town — I'm in El Dorado, remember?

Anyway, I call Paul's Upholstery shop.

Paul: "This is Paul." A large voice, obviously from a black man, thundered through my phone.

Me: "Hey, Paul, I've got a job if you are willing to take it."

Paul: "What's the job?"

Me: "I want my truck seats re-covered in leather, how much will it cost?"

Paul: "Uh...I'll have to see it."

Me: "OK, I'll bring it over."

So I go over to see Paul, but the thing is, Paul's shop is in the Ghetto. And I'm a white boy in a black truck. And black people like my truck, for some reason, so I'm thinking that I'll either get car jacked or...something.

I pass by the shop, thinking it was out of business at first, but then realizing it was just a really, really rundown place. So I circled the block. Bad idea.

Four large black guys sitting on the hood of a beat up Regal stared me down, sipping their Colt 45's. Sounds like a cliche I know, but it's true. I eased on by, pretending not to look at them, knowing they were thinking I wanted to buy some crack or tap their ho's.

Up ahead, I saw even more black men in the roadway. I decided it would be best if I made the quickest exit possible, and I whipped around the corner and got back on the main street. Now, I wasn't scared, really, I just didn't want to take any chances. That's it. No chances for me, not in a bad part of town in what looks like a new truck (it's a 2004) but it does look brand new.

I finally made it to Pauls today, and he told me it'd be $400 to cover my seats in leather. Not bad, I'd say. But I'm a little afraid to leave my ride in that part of town for the day. I'll let you know how it goes.