Friday was a CRUNK night, ya heard me?
At work a few of the co-workers and I decided to hit the club and get it twisted. At first I didn’t want to go because I was tired and feeling fat but then again I was like “F*ck it” and decided to go out because it had been a minute since I hit the night scene. My boyfriend and I hit the Smithsonian for a little while after work. We went to the Holocaust Museum, which is a nice museum. Very informative but I was kind of upset on how there is a museum for the Holocaust and not a real museum for African Americans in DC. I mean they’re in the process of building one and there is the African Art museum in Anacostia (which I wouldn’t even drift over to in the DAY. The last time I went and I saw the signs that said the museum wasn’t responsible for “vandalized and stolen vehicles” um yeah I hurried up and got out that part of town). I mean of course the Holocaust was a horrible event and Hitler was crazier than an m*thafucker (also doped up on “that sh*t” and had Parkinson’s disease—Thanks History Channel for that info!) but nothing will compare to slavery (IMO) and what African Americans have been subjected to in America.
It was nice and warm. I was feeling the DC scene and my boyfriend and I had a nice time strolling in the downtown DC area. Of course a few “bears” were out and about but I realized that everyone’s mirror is not working and on their side. Some mirrors are just straight revolting. Just on strike and sh*t. Wanting better pay and benefits. For the sake of my eyes, Bears, please give in to the demands. Give the mirror what it wants. Find a way. Work their demands into the budget. Fire the refrigerator. Have cut backs on the Oreos Department. But please get back on the mirror's good side.
So I get all sexy and pretty, rocking my new Baby Phat jeans that make my ass look like a Buffie the Body booty and a cute little top and my stilettos. I actually threw on some make-up, pinned my braids up and I was OUT! Kissed the boyfriend goodnight and proceeded to paint the town CHOCOLATE! First we hit up PEARL and were about to box some hoes over a fucking parking spot! Bitches seen us bust that U-Turn and wanted to do the same sh*t to get the spot. We held traffic up for 20 minutes because neither one of us budging. I mean we hollering out the window (and they were some big bitches), horns honking, and the bums that try to guide you into spots like they’re valet and sh*t were just looking at us like we were crazy. Luckily another spot opened in front because we were about to thump! Damn shame in DC there’s no parking. People ‘bout to shoot folks over parking spots. What?! Yall thought we were gonna pay those high ass prices to park?! Yeah aiight!
PEARL was straight but I guess it was “White Folks” night at PEARL because they were playing that Techno/Rave/House music sh*t. Now I will dance to anything in the mood but even I have my limitations. Plus White Girls like to swing their damn hair all around when they’re dancing and I would have to beat a b*tch ass if their hair get in my damn $8 drink. Sh*t is just annoying. 95% of White People can’t dance and the sooner that 95% realize that, the better off the 5% that can will be. Trying to do the Beyonce bounce when you have no ass and no rhythm. Better yet: trying to do the Beyonce bounce off beat and to a Chingy song at that. Umm yeah Ima need some folks to stop watching so much BET. Imitation is not a sincere form of flattery.
So we get bored and decided to hit LOVE. LOVE was off the hook! We had to wait in line but oh we had a good time in line. We were flirting with any and everyone. By this time, we were a little twisted because some dude had bought us some drinks at PEARL. They only had two levels open this time but it was wall to wall niggaz up in there. We hit the dance floor and basically did not drag our asses off the floor until the club closed at 4 something.
Now I said before, I love to dance. I get in my groove and I will dance with any and every body. Which I did. I think I danced with everyone at the club that night. Can you say my feet were smoking like ham? I was doing my little grind, gave some dude a dance for his b-day and basically just let my Jamaican persona pop out. Plus my booty was looking too big?! *lol* I think my friends and I got it popping because you know when you go to the club and you got those girls who try to dance all cute and then that really “skanky dancing” girl get on the dance floor and let it loose which forces the other girl to step up her dancing skills and you proceed to have a mini-You Got Served dance off?
We were those “skanky dancing” girls.
We shook our Laffy Taffy all over the dance floor. I felt quite a few pokes in the booty area. Of course that meant I had to go on to the next man. I don’t get down like that. *lol* I had 7 club stalkers in the club. Just scouting me out. Sniffing my ass out like a bloodhound. Left one on the first floor, I turn around and he’s behind me. I had to enforce a lot of “One Dance Minimums” that night because they were cockblocking—hard! It was mainly the Africans I danced with. I'm like, "Damn I know where you from yall like to dominate but this is America boo. You aint gonna have me bare foot, in the kitchen, pregnant with no clitoris"! African guys just wouldn't leave me along. Trying to own me Bloggers. Telling other dudes to back off like he is my man. Accent and all, hot breff just all on my neck, straightening the kitchens. Breff drying the sweat on my neck like the hand dryers. The more I tried to get away, the more they kept coming. I'm like "Damn hunters and sh*t. Used to hunting zebras and sh*t so scouting out a girl in the club aint nuthin' huh?" *lol* I know I'm wrong for that comment. Hell all the comments. My bad to my African readers. I still love yall...Just not at the club! Trying to marry me so he can stay in the country. I had to bring up the rarely enforced "Don't dance with foreigners" rule. Just crazy. I mean I was like, “Damn, are you my man?” Just wouldn’t leave me alone. Now I don’t mind dancing but please don’t stalk. Please don’t try to boguard a dance. Don’t try to hold me captive. This one dude kind of put me in a full Nelson just so I wouldn’t walk away. I mean he was gripping the sh*t out of me! Another dude got smacked because he licked my damn ear. Now you know that was a big no-no. Please don’t lick on me or grind your hard little penis into my ass. That is not sexy. Don’t be trying to dry hump me on the dance floor. I mean I know it may have been a while for you, but it hasn’t been a while for me, ok? And licking on me? That’s a Chi-Town slap for that ass. I popped the sh*t out his ass and walked off (quick because I saw the bouncer coming in my direction- they be on it at LOVE). I was just flirting my ass off. I am a direct person. If I think you’re attractive, I will come to you and say it. I bought this guy a drink just because. Didn’t want his number or anything, he was just sexy. He gave me the little nod and “thanks” and I kept it moving. I was on the prowl yall.
^^^Once again, the bills were paid and there was $$$ in the Checking. Don’t think I just be buying everyone a drink but hey a few guys had bought me one so I decided to return the favor. You can never call me cheap!!
*lol*
I copped a few numbers I won’t lie to you Bloggers. I can’t help it. It’s not like I’m going to f*ck any of them or anything like that. <--- Look at me trying to justify it *lol* But hey I like to go out and have a good time. Plus one was just a little too sexy for me to let out my sight right quick. Nice green eyes, beautiful Chocolate skin and nice, even White teeth. And did I mention he was stacked? Brutha had muscles for days. He was just on some chill I guess but I walked past him, did a double take and had to do a “U”.
I did get some bugaboos. One guy has called me 7 times already even though I told him I had to work tonight. Another called me 6. Damn, I gave a real number. I was truthful to most of them. I mentioned I have a boyfriend who I live with. I even told them he was the main dish and they can only be an appetizer. Better yet a light snack. A bag of Flamin' Hots and some cheese. But still *shrugs* It must be the smile. I’m just so fun when I’m out. Plus I was with 3 of my wild co-workers. We were all too hot to def.
I even flirted with a few of the bouncers. Some of them are cute. A little mean (must be the job) and swole but cute. One had some dreads and he was looking too tasty. I think he put me off thinking I was a little drunk female and just talking, but I was serious. Ok ok I was a little drunk, but I’m a direct person anyway. I guess some men are not attracted to that. Are men attracted to direct female? Do men like aggressive or more submissive types? I know I put some people off because I’m blunt to the point of being a little rude but for the most part I don’t mean to. I’m just honest and I grew up in a very direct family. It was either open your mouth to say something or starve. We don’t have too many “mice” in the family; we have “lions”. So I was raised to speak up. *shrugs* Maybe it’s in my genes. Don’t get me wrong- I let a man be a man but at the same time if I think you’re taking too long to make a move, I will say something.
So we’re leaving the club and this car rolls up. It’s some guys who have been “peeping” us the whole night at the club and they want to take us to breakfast. At first, we were a little put off because it was spoken more like a demand than a request. Plus they looked like they be on that “dirty”. Dirty meaning “selling dope” dirty. I ain’t trying to kick it with them and f*ck around and end up in jail. My mama and them are not bailing a sista out I can say that much. I’ll be in there with Big Bertha and them messing around with my people. The girls wanted to go and being the pig that I am because I was famished, we followed them to a diner in Georgetown and had a good time. They had us rolling. They were just crazy. One dude had some drama because his baby mother had followed him to the club and had a fit when she saw him talking to us so she had to make a quick scene at the restaurant. Sista was looking a little unstable. She had on PJs and sh*t and I thought she was about to shut it downnnn. You know my girls and I were sliding to the door in case she whipped out a knife or something. I’ve been here long enough to know how DC gets down. They wanted to kick it some more after breakfast but by this time it was 6 am and one of my girls had to be in at 6:30. Yeah…You know she called off, faking sick and sh*t. Had the fake cough and everything down to a “T”, ya heard me? You know only black folks rehearse being sick. Like it’s a movie audition or something.
We were tired, we were looking “after clubish” meaning sweaty and disheveled, and my feet were killing me because I just had to show up everyone in dancing. So we decided to call it a night and headed home. I slid in at about 7 am, slept like a baby until 8 am when Green Eyes called me. Sadly, I had to tell him I was sleeping and I would call him back when I woke up. Went back to sleep and woke up in enough time to throw some clothes on and put in some weekend hours.
Don’t worry…Green Eyes and I am going out later. Then my girls and I are hitting the clubs again! Damn, it feels good to still be young!
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