Luis Guzman, famous actor and all around #Boricua Badass, has always occupied a familiar place in my social periphery. He’s from the same town back on the island as my dad, and also I’m pretty sure he and my folks used to kick it all ’70s style in the Lower East Side. Here, look:
So like a week ago Mr. Guzman tweets:
Which links to this Instagram of himself standing super tough in front of some random door:
…he posted a challenge on Facebook—
—but nobody could name the spot.
So, obv, he eggs them on—
—and man were they trying—
—but still nothing even a week later…
…so I was all, like, “It is on, sir.”
God as my witness, I will smite a challenge, friends. I will smite a challenge. So that’s what I did. Smited that shit right down, and it was all thanks to the actually awesome Global Super Brain, commonly referred to as Google. #Swoon.
At first I astral’d down around street view for a while, but, honestly?
Screw that. That way sucked and was way boring and not at all fruitful. Then, with a quick salting of the brainclouds, I switched to image search and picked two of the graffiti artists who had tagged the door:
Which kicked me this shot:
Not much, but that’s definitely the door, right? That’s the door. Plus, now I had a street number and a wider angle. All it took from there was a tedious trial and error blitz of copy/pasting “nyc 344 ” and then opening likely addresses in Street View…
…until I finally pulled 7’s:
The jackpot is just two doors down from The Wren. That 344 is 344 Bowery! Look!
Some of you might’ve known where this was right off the bat. I did not. Bowery’s just not my scene, dudes. Also the point here, the “So what?” of this: I could’ve done this from absolutely anywhere that had a connection to our just overwhelmingly #AwesomeInternet. Anyone could’ve.
True, it helps that I live in New York and have a general feel for what sort of architecture is more likely to be found in which hoods, but, for real, it just makes it more convenient for my new dude, Luis Guzman. What if somebody in Yakutsk had tracked tracked him down?
It’s a fact that by the immutable laws of an Internetworked Cosmos, not going to Yakutsk to buy…frozen fish loaves(?)…with these fur-garbed folk would have been tantamount to celebrity suicide. Not to mention if the person was, like, dying of cancer or something! Mr. Guzman would have been unflappably bound by the sacred chains of international stardom to grant three wishes!
So that’s what’s up with that! Yay, Internet! Yay, me! Stay tuned and I’ll post pictures of the undoubtedly awesome time I’ll have hanging out with the only Luis Guzman who matters: Luis Guzman.