2011 06 13: Billy Ocean

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Mission Name: Billy Ocean
Date of Mission: June 13, 2011
Locale: Greenwich Village

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0GOYvtxb6QQ


tamara lip

It may be almost midnight, but in the city that never sleeps, the hour ain't nothin' but a number. At least that's Tamara's motto as she steps out of Starbucks with some crazy-caffeinated drink in hand, dressed up in her club-going best, taking a breather while on her way from one party to another. Sipping her no-fat, soy-whatever, she walks along the street, balancing deftly upon insane stilettos while her other hand is busy texting someone on her smartphone, her eyes on the screen and not on the street.

o/‘ Livin’ Life In The Fast Lane
Movin' At The Speed Of Life
And I Can't Slow Down o/`

The music can be heard before the car can be seen. Soon enough, though, the window shaking bass can be attributed to the back lambo that comes around the corner at a cruising pace. The heavily tinted windows are rolled mostly down, though, as the blinged out driver is looking left and right for potential prospects for the night. There has to be something out there he can take with him to this party…

The music is pretty hard to miss, even when embroiled in a fascinating text debate about which club to hit up tomorrow night. Tamara looks up from her work, casting a look that's equal parts dubious and intrigued as the noisy driver begins cruising the street. T comes to a stop, interested at least enough to see where this goes, since she's lost interest in the text conversation. With him being in the car and with it being night, she hasn't yet recognized the driver, however.

"Oh shit. There we go. Right there." Lip is already pulling over, cutting someone else off and practically parking on the street. He doesn't really care that cars are going to have to go around his, as he's already throwing open those suicide doors and popping out with enough style and flair to make this look like a music video. "Yo!" Lip sticks close to the Lambo, since it is still running. Can't trust New York like that. "I say hey yo! Shawtay!" It is beyond obvious he's trying to get the Tamara's attention right now.

Tamara arches an eyebrow at his attempts to get her attention, but she does begin to saunter over. Slowly. She doesn't scurry just because a man hollers. "Do you practice to the soundtrack at home?" she inquires with a faint smirk, but the car does earn a genuine once-over, and then another one for Lip. "Seems you've moved up in the world. Bieber tickets selling well?" She makes no effort to raise her voice over the music. If he can't hear her, he'll just need to turn it down. If he can hear her, then just as well.

"Girl, you know that's just a side hustle. Ain't no money in no corny ass white boy singers. When New Edition gets back together? That's when the dough really gonna' start comin' in." Lip says all this as he spins around the car and over to the passenger side, which gets him out of the street and away from annoyed drivers that want him to get his expensive ass car out of the way. "Look. I ain't even gonna' front. I recognized ya' ass from the park the other day." It is probably worth noting he means that literally. "And I'm 'bout to go put in an appearance at this album release party. And I need somethin' fine as you on my arm." He cracks a big ol' smile. "You in?"

"It's good to dream big," Tamara replies with a straight-face, although the smirk is really not gone for long. "But I'm sure the record produces will be shocked to hear there's no money to be made off the pre-teen cash cow they've been milking…" She watches as he comes around the vehicle and then heads a little nearer, to make conversation easier - and to give the car a closer look. "I do like to think I strike a memorable image. I appreciate you not blowing my cover." Considering the damage he could have done, she doesn't seem terribly concerned either way. Instead, she's busy considering his invitation. "Mm. All right. I'm getting a bit sick of … this current project," she admits, waving her phone absently to indicate who she's talking about - namely, the poor guy at the other end of the unanswered text messages that keep causing her phone to vibrate.

"I ain't in the business of blowin' anything!" Lip's hands are up in the air as if he's needing to make sure the entire block knows which way he's swinging. And he's swinging at the hottie that's standing next to his obnoxiously loud music bumping Lambo. "Aight, now, before we get on our merry way and go rock this party like it ain't never been rocked before, you gotta' do me a little favor. Since, y'know, I did keep my mouth shut and all. Which, we both know, is the biggest job in the world for me, right?" He flashes a grin, reaching to pull up the passenger side door He's kind of a gentleman. "You gotta' take those heels off. I can't have you riskin' Beyonce's interior like that. I know, I know. This may stop me from gettin' laid, later, but… come on. It's a Lamborghini."

"Good to know," Tamara replies with some amusement as Lip so roundly denies blowing things. The smirk fades to a dubious look as she considers the car and considers his request. "You think this is the first expensive car I've been in with these things? Do I look like some teen from Jersey on a big night out? I know how to handle my heels without doing damage." She takes a sip of her drink. "I will, however, ditch the liquid if that bothers you. Never let it be said I'm not compassionate." She watches him, waiting to see if this is going to be a sticking point or not.

"Deal. But you gotta' work it on the dance floor when we get to the party. I'm tryin' to close like three deals tonight and my clients are going to need significant distraction." Lip must be getting better with his business, since he's actually seeking out different ways to make sure he gets the best deals and the most profit possible. Money is the name of the game when it comes to some of this stuff. "I'm also a really big fan of wardrobe malfunctions, if you're feeling extra helpful." Oh Lip.

"Dance floor, yes. They won't even know what hit them," Tamara promises, making that vow easily enough since dancing was really in the cards anyway. She takes a final sip from her coffee before tossing the half-empty cup to the curb, careful to avoid the car with the resulting splash when the lid pops off. That hand-eye coordination comes in handy. "Wardrobe malfunction…? Now, that you'll have to find some way to make it worth my while. Introduce me to someone worth knowing, say."

Lip gives a flourish of his hand to indicate the chariot that awaits this cinderella that he knows from way back. He then makes his way back around the car to get in on his own side and there's some button pressing which has the doors coming down on their own. "I can do that. I pretty much know everybody that's gonna' be there. Well, anybody that actually is worth knowin' about. Forget the rest of them fools. Thinkin' they gon' get a free CD or somethin'. Hahaha. Played!" Pause. "I wanna' be signaled before the WM though. i wanna' see it myself too."

"Yes, I'm looking for something slightly bigger than a free CD," Tamara replies smoothly, as she deftly types in a quick response to the messages that have been buzzing her phone. That, apparently, takes care of her 'project' for the night. Once given the all-clear to enter, even in those deadly heels, Tamara bobs her head and then steps forward to slip into the car. As promised, she is careful not to damage the interior in any way, shape or form. "Of course you do," she says smoothly, having no doubt that every straight male would, of course, wish to witness her wardrobe issues.

It doesn't look like Lip knows what he's doing, because he's too busy looking at the hottie in the club wear to really be paying too much attention to the road… but he manages to pull off without crashing or burning or anything close to that. "You can start now. I won't mind." Lip quips, turning down the radio and making sure everything is nice and golden for their trip across town.

"Dream on, Courier," Tamara says with a laugh, far from offended, but also far from beginning to strip in the car's passenger seat, much as that might disappoint her driver. "Introductions first, wardrobe issues second," she insists, before smiling and giving him a sidelong look. "It's not that I don't trust you, of course. Just how the game is played. Of course, first you have to get us there in one piece."

Lip shifts gears, as if that's going to do something. Well, it kind of does, because the Lambo speeds up. "Let them eat cake." is all Lip has to say about those that cannot drive as awesome as he can. Because there's tires squealing as he makes with the breaking speed limits all the way to the party.

o/` Get Out Of My Dreams…
And Into My Car. o/`a


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