It's 1999 and the shop that sponsors me hooks up a demo with Koston, Carroll and Chico. The first demo of this caliber skater for Central America, and it is a huge deal for all the local skaters, most had never seen a pro skater live, much less Koston and Carroll at their peak.
The shop owner is a surfer and couldn't care less about driving these dudes around so he asks me to take them to spots and whatnot. My car had gotten broken into the night before and they'd stolen my stereo, speakers even the rear-view mirror, but I was down to drive them anyway. So I go to the hotel and they all jump in the car and 5 seconds in and Koston starts talking shit about my car. He just assumes off the bat that I did not speak English and just starts getting really into the shit talking. "This fucking car, what the fuck, put on some beats! oh you can't hahahah, oh look, no rear-view, theres' no looking back!
There were comments of the sort all the way to the spot, but Chico and Carroll weren't really into his routine, so he starts to rip harder on everything: the roads, the sidewalks, the traffic...
Finally we get to the spot and Carroll asks me if there was a store near by, so I tell him and Koston hears me speaking English and I could tell for a second he was like "oh shit" but really didnt care.
He did leave his sample eS Koston 2 in my car which I assumed were his way of saying sorry.