So much has happened when I went home to Chicago for the weekend that I just had to split it up into days. God my family and friends are crazy. The shit they get me into (willingly) and the humorous quotes that keeps me rolling for days *sigh* What can you do?
So my day started Thursday morning @ DCA. For once, I was on time and ATA was actually doing some work. I was kinda pissed that this lady had like 40 bags to check in and took forever but I made it to my gate with 10 minutes to spare. The flight was quick and wasn't bumpy. I will admit that I am terrified of flying. I literally have to get a pep talk to get on the plane. If there's even a little bit of turbulence...I am ready to claw the exit doors open and leap out. Needless to say, I have never sat in those seat because I have disclosed to the flight attendants that in the case of an emergency I will 1) Claw the door open and jump out and 2) Have no intentions of saving anyone on board. If you see my ass running you better get a clue because I am not a hero. So to save me from knocking over small children to get off the plane, I'm usually seated a nice distance from the exit rows. I hate flying strictly because planes go down all the damn time and no one seems to know what the fuck happened until afterwards. That's a damn lie!
When I first moved to DC, I worked at Dulles guiding planes in and out of the gates, loading/unloading luggage, and doing general inspections (I know...My lazy ass working at an airport? The job was actually fun as hell and being one of the few women that worked there meant others, namely the men, did the work for me while I sat looking cute) and they do a close inspection of the plane upon arrival/departure. The smallest scratch= that plane is not leaving the gate. I know this because I was always reporting everything (due to my paranoia) and was constantly being told "that is normal" (They got tired of my "Final Destination" rants). Needless to say, I hate flying so I either need to be extremely drunk, tired, or sick to get on a plane and relax. I slept 95% of the flight. I woke up when we were descending into Midway.
My best guy friend met me at Midway and boy did we clown. I was really happy to see him so I jumped all over him, he fell, I fell...We laughed. It was like a ghetto "Sleepless in Chi-Town". If I wasn't with my boyfriend, I would probably hook up with my best friend. We're so much alike, it's eerie. Him being hung like a porn star and blessed with the tongue of a God are also his other good qualities. Yes, I sampled the merchandise a few years ago and I had to leave him alone because I would have became a stalker. Yes, it was just that good. So we went out to eat...At the I-HOP we were banned from two years ago for throwing a plate at the waitress. Yes that same waitress still was working there and yes she still held a grudge. We were escorted out. I made a scene. We were promptly banned from the property again.
Then we met up with the "crew". The "crew" is an assortment of friends/associates that I sorta/kinda kick it with when I am in town. We're a group of loud ass ig'nant Black folks...My good U of I education does out the window when I'm around these folks. So we're chilling at my girl's house and they're bringing me up to date on the neighborhood gossip. One of the dudes I messed around with is in jail. So and so is on her third baby. Pointing out the new crackhead in the neighborhood...That sort of thing. Netta (yeah the same bitch that gave my number to my ex...Oh yes that ass got cursed the fuck out) told me my ex was asking about me. Yes the same crazy fucker. So I start talking mad shit about his ass.
Now I am a champion bull shitter. I walk tall and stand tall. I swear I think I got balls the size of....Well think of something big and that's how big my balls are. So I'm like "Fuck that nigga duhdaduhda" when the fucker walks in the room. I kid you not...I jumped like a scared kitten. So they laughing and shit while this nigga got a death look on his face. The fucker heard my entire conversation because I'm so busy talking shit that I don't know the nigga came in the house. So of course we get into it. We get into it bad. My best friend had to carry me out the house because it was about to go down. I had took the earrings off, tied my hair to the back and was about to go to school on his ass. Now I probably would have gotten my ass beat but I woulda scratched an eyeball out or something.
I was so pissed I went over to my grandmother's. Tell me why I'm walking home and this bastard start following me home, talking about, "Get in the car...We need to talk about your anger problems. Your jealousy issues will be the end of you". Oh yes....The fucker went there. 1) I wasn't hopping my ass in the car with that nigga...They would never find my body. 2) He is crazy. 3) He is crazy. I ignored him and went on my way.
Now my grandmother cracked her collarbone so my mother has her on lockdown. We call my mother "The Warden" because my grandmother can't go to the washroom without her breathing down her neck. Now my grandmother is far from the fragile, senile granny....My granny hits the streets. She hops in her jeep and be gone! So she's mad that she can't drive more than anything esp. since she cracked her bone falling out the bed. Yes, we have that problem bad in the family. We all fall out the damn bed all the time (well mine is more alcohol related) so when I found out...I was worried but then again my mother is a drama queen and queen of exaggeration. So when I found out my granny was ok, I started jokin with my grandma that she needs to "get off the Jesus Juice" and my grandmother told me to "Get Some Business".
I go home, spend time with the family, and later on go out with my best friend and his Frat Brothers who I adore like they're my real brothers. Them niggaz are stupid and I know I'm in for a good time when I'm out with them. Plus his frat brother Adam (who looks exactly like Remy Shand...I even call him Remy) was there. Sad to say, Adam can't stand me. I kinda did him bogus and so he doesn't even acknowledge my presence. It's cool though...We all hit an Irish pub (in honor of St. Patrick's Day...Any excuse to drink for us) and proceed to get slizzard out the ass. We so drunk we making friends with the white folks that was there, we dancing, singing along (badly) to songs...We showed our Black asses. Bacardi will make you sin. I had 6 Double Shots of Bacardi Superior--Straight, some Rum and Coke and an Armetto Sour. I woke up with a T-Shirt and some panties on (Luckily I wore the cute pair) and a headache. Now my best friend and I did not have sex, even though I woke up in his bed half naked and with his t-shirt on. We're beyond the sexual stage I guess (I was kinda insulted though...Like who wouldn't want to sleep with me?) but he did have some amusing drunk stories about me for my ass and I got clowned the entire weekend. I forgot they some real drunks so shortly after we left (or got kicked out the bar) they were cool...But me on the other hand was another story. According to him:
1. I flashed a random stranger (unintentionally). My low rises slide down and I had "Plumber's Crack" which prompted a lot of butt crack jokes ("Crack" of Dawn, "Crack" Kills, "Crack"ers, etc). My rebuttal: "At least my panties are clean *pause* Wait...I think they clean...What color are they? Hey when did that Walgreens get there"?
2. I cursed out some dude who apparently wasn't feeling my drunken advances. Me: "Fuck you bitch...You wasn't cute anywayz!" (Yeah...That Chicago Rejection Line was out in full force).
3. I tripped and fell over everything including my own feet. Then slipped off the curb.
4. I fell asleep mid-sentence a few times and woke up to finish the conversation.
5. I was about to sent it up with some dudes who, in my drunken state, I thought was trying to kick it off. The men: mid-60s White Men.
6. Cursed out Adam for being a fucking "douche bag" (I hang with too many white folks). We're back to not speaking.
7. Drunk dialed a few folks and proceeded to tell them how much I "love" them...And how they are my best friends.
Yeah...When I get drunk...Anything goes. That was Thursday's day of events......
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