News Flash: Shabba Ranks Spotted in Brooklyn

It was maybe two months ago when I first saw him. I was coming home from work around 8pm and hopped on the train at Union Square. When the doors opened there was a bald headed man in a brown 3/4 suit with headphones on with his back to the door. He initially caught my eye (pause) because he didn't move to the side to let other people on and off. This is New York, though, so that really wasn't so peculiar.

Posted up against the door opposite from the man in the 3/4 brown suit, I leaned back and prepared for a normal ride back into the heart of Brooklyn. But, like I said, this is New York so nothing is ever normal.

The man in the 3/4 brown suit is standing across from me bobbin’ his head to the sounds emanating from his Walkman (Note: this is a cassette player NOT a Discman). I'm not if it was the monstrous headphones he had on or the actual Walkman, but the whole car can hear the man’s reggae tunes and homeboy is definitely feelin' it as he nods his head incessantly and does a lil two-step. This is where things start to take a turn for the only-in-New-York territory.

Homeboy raises the Walkman to his mouth and starts bustin' out lyrics to go along with the riddim as if it's a mini-microphone. His voice is an amplified raspy and throaty combination of bass as he begins, "I wanna big bwatty gal, I wanna big bwatty girl..." All while dancing along to his impromptu and LOUD rendition.

B-b-b-but wait it gets worse. All of a sudden he busts out with a second voice. This one is a more high-pitched squeal that contrasts his bassy alter ego. Perhaps this is his female duet??? Honestly, I don't know. Homeboy runs through song after song like he's doing a live show. And no he's not begging for money, dude is decked out in a brown 3/4 suit topped off with a matching derby hat, black hard-bottom shoes and a leather satchel briefcase. He clearly has a home and works somewhere. Other than the tacky attire and singing he looks completely normal, it's just old boy is bugging the fuck out and performing like he's the reincarnation of Shabba Ranks.

By this point everyone in the train car is trying to stifle their laughter. It's hardest for me because I'm directly across from this mofo getting a front row view of the debauchery. The longer the ride gets, the louder and more animated he gets. He's talking to the Walkman (I still can't get over the fact he had a Walkman) as if it's his DJ and every time one song blends into the next he's asking, in the bassy voice, "What tune you have for me next?" He even makes requests to have the selector wind back dee riddim. SMH.

The most bugged out shit though was when he came to the end of the tape and, still in the bassy voice, says, "Let me flip dee tape, oh, let me flip dee tape...." It is so fuckin hard for me to not laugh at this point—especially when he added barking to his portfolio of voices and sounds: "RRAAR, RRAAR!"

This went on until Atlantic Avenue where he finally got off. This is when the entire train car let out one huge burst of laughter cause we had all witnessed something that no one else would ever believe or appreciate if they weren't there.

So of course when I told all my friends, no one believed me or my description of Brooklyn Shabba—as I have affectionately dubbed him. I saw him again the following week and dude did the same thing, this time in a plaid lime green and white suit with no hat. The train was more crowded this time and he added grindin' on the door to his show. The White tourists directly by him didn't get a kick out of that as they turned beet red with embarrassment. Being my second time seeing dude I could appreciate this shit a little more. That and the fact that I wasn't the poor soul directly across from him this time.

It was a full month and change before I saw him again. Me and my boy were coming home from some party in the city when the train pulled into the station and I saw Brooklyn Shabba through the car doors. "It's him," I yelled out.” My boy was perplexed as I adamantly told him to get in to this particular train car so we'd be standing right across from him. After I told my homie what was going on, he looked at the man in the white 3/4 suit standing before us and was like, "You sure that's him?"

“Yeah, man. Wait, you’ll see.” At this point Brooklyn Shabba seemed normal enough--just a man with a Walkman on the train. But as the ride progressed his showman spirit began to emerge, but this time he was doing reggae renditions of hip-hop tracks like 50 Cent's "Candy Shop." All in all, it was another hilarious showing by Brooklyn Shabba and I finally had a witness to prove I wasn't bullshittin. But to leave no question of the existence of Brooklyn Shabba, I snapped a picture.

Please tell me I'm not alone in seeing this dude. Brooklyn where you at? Has anyone else seen this man on the train????