The First Friday...

Wow where should I begin with my sordid tales of Chicago?

I’ll start with Friday the 8th.

Of course a bitch was running late getting to the airport as I could not decide what the hell to pack so I was up pretty late trying to stuff as many of my skimpiest outfits I could in my suitcase and did I mention my suitcase ripped so a bitch was Betsy Ross in that bitch sewing up my suitcase until nearly two. See if DC had a damn all night Wal-Mart I would have just bought a new one.

Of course I get in line and why does it takes dick wads forever to use the computer terminals? I mean damn slide in a credit card and go. It’s taking muthafuckers damn near twenty minutes to check in and shit. And one thing I hate, why the hell don’t you have your shit out before you get to the terminal? I mean damn you know you’re next so shouldn’t you be digging in your bag before you actually step up?

Yeah I’m so impatient.

At security I got into a minor dispute with security over Carmex and flip flops. I was like, “Really what the fuck am I going to do with some Carmex? I mean come on the fucking flight attendant has to be nose to nose with me in order to squirt the shit in his/her eye! Carmex ain't shit but some Vaseline in a yellow tube. AND I had just copped a new one? Yeah aiight, I wasn’t giving up my 1.19 purchase. Damn that.”

And besides I argued that Carmex is medication so I should be able to bring it on since I am a hypochondriac and if I don’t slap Carmex on my lips every five seconds I break out in hives.

And I refused to take off the 3.50 Old Navy that are like two scrapes from bring those cheap paper shoes you get at the Nail Shop that’s how worn those bad boys are because one you could see my toes and two trust I couldn’t stick a piece of gum on these bad boys let alone a bomb without me walking with a limp. And besides the ground was nasty.

After much debate and dirty ass looks from the people behind me, I was allowed entrance to my gate.

I slept the entire flight so no drama. A bitch was snoring as soon as I sat down. I woke up when we landed at O’Hare, the dreaded airport that takes about an hour just to get the hell out of Concourse B. Yeah the cheaper flight was for O’Hare, usually I’m at Midway which is about 15 minutes from my house driving.

Of course lazy ass FH, TWIN and FOOL are no where to be seen, my grandmother was sleeping, and everyone else was at work so a bitch had to hop on the Blue Line. When the fuck did Chicago get a damn Pink Line that’s all I want to know? Since the “Els” *as the trains are called in Chicago* are notoriously late when it comes to taking down advertisements *I’ve seen shit for 1999….in 2003* I thought it was maybe like a Breast Cancer thing or something but no it’s for real. I was a little suspicious like is that the line for gays or something *I know bogus as hell right, my badd my badd* but then again that was the line that I needs not be on. I ain’t trying to get raped on the Pink Line train, shit the Transit Police can give a damn about violence on the train.

And I am definitely too pretty for the County.

After struggling with my obnoxiously heavy bag dragging them that long ass Green Mile to the train stop, of course hogging up a seat or two pissing off a few of the Rush Hour folks but oh well shit should’ve gotten on at an earlier stop, I dozed off.

Chicago’s train is the only place when I can be in a deep sleep and is still aware of where my purse and shit is because I will cut a bitch. I had my suitcase straps wrapped all around my arm, purse securely on my lap, clasp facing me and I had the mean mug face on. I wish a bitch would…

Overslept on the fucking train, missed Jackson and got off at Racine just to go to UIC/Halsted and transfer to the bus. Damn Chicago is really cleaning up the streets. Great more hood ass niggas pushed into my decrepit ass neighborhood. Cant have the UIC students stepping over crack heads and living in dorms next to crack houses now can we?

Get home and my phone rings. Oh these bitches now just woke up and if I want they can come get me from O’Hare.

Bitches I’m at home now. Tired and sweaty.

We make plans to meet up later to go shopping for TWIN and FOOL’s birthday present, two impossible folks to shop for. Well I had TWINs shit in the bag though so it was up to me to find something for FOOL who has basically everything that you can buy a man who’s not your man, ya dig?

I play with my niece for a few hours, messing with her, and basically just treating her like a little football. Of course as a five month old she’s giggling and gurgling to everything I do to her. Go figure.

We take a quick nap together and when I wake up, my phone is ringing. The crew is outside.

We hug and do the “girlie” thing, I mean damn it has been a few months since we’ve seen each other so we’re doing the once over. Who’s gotten fat, whose hair is shorter/longer/nappier, the sluttiest outfit, biggest butt and breasts…and so on. My butt has gotten bigger and TWIN was upset that I chopped some of my hair off.

For some reason, we went to Evergreen Plaza aka “Ever Black” and although much hasn’t changed since we were “Ever Black” Mall Rats our freshman year of high school, everything seems so juvenile. We’re like, “Damn did we really hang up at the mall like this when we were in high school?”

And we’re getting picked up my high school boys.

We’ve flirted for a few discounts and just were acting an ass in the mall. Just clowning. We’re asking the cute little boys in the store embarrassing questions, making them blush, we’re haggling over the prices for men’s clothing, and we’re roasting on folks and some of the shit folks had on.

Of course I had fantastic pictures but that damn phone of mine crashed and went back to its original factory settings. I was so fucking pissed.

I did have some creepy guy who was following me from store to store with his phone out *probably snapping pictures of my ass* until I finally had to tell him I was a lesbian and my butch lover, FH, was going to beat the fuck out of him and me if he didn’t leave me alone. He was a little surprised *and probably turned on* but he kept his distance from me. Old pervert ass.

I finally just bought FOOL a pair of RocaWear jeans *TWIN bought him the matching shirt, I mean shit we were roaming the mall for close to three hours looking for him something and she begged to buy the shirt since she couldn’t find him anything*

We go to one of the hood shops for some Pizza Puffs, Gyro Cheeseburgers, and Fries with Mild Sauce when we meet up with FOOL whose absence was undetermined earlier since the nigga wasn’t at work. Probably laid up with some broad.

We put on a four person Comedy routine in the store and we had the cooks laughing so hard, they made us leave. I know crazy right? We were just clowning, they were teasing me about being engaged like I’m grown or something and expressed surprise that I actually brought the ring to Chicago and it was on my finger. We’re making up Ghetto Themes for my wedding including me walking down the aisle in a White one piece cat suit *with rhinestones* to “Drop It Like It’s Hot” while the Bridesmaids rock daisy dukes and “make a lil change”. White tees and fitted caps for the Groomsmen and we can’t forget the Timbs and Stilettos.

Reception at Harold’s on 83rd. Followed by a night at The Ice Bar.

We were laughing so hard we were crying.

We hung out at FH mama’s house for a hot second and when I had enough laughing and joking, I’m like someone drop me off at home.

Pulls up and muthafucking OMAR is in front of my building talking to my little brother.

We see each other and square off. His face looking all crazy and tight and shit.

FH looking at me like should she gone head and get the piece out the trunk *lol*

OMAR is like damn do I ever stay in DC because everything he turn around my ass is back in Chicago.

I’m like damn every time I’m in Chicago you’re on my block snooping and stalking I mean damn I know you don’t come on my block like that when I’m not at home so why are you on my block now.

Of course he claims he’s talking to my brother because he was riding by and saw my brother standing outside and they were having a chat until I burst out the car like Action Jackson and shit.

I’m looking around because I don’t see his little girlfriend and I know how he is so I’m like where’s your girl or did she finally escape from the clutches of *insert real name*

Vague ass answer. Girl is probably floating in Lake Michigan right about now and we all know once some shit land in the Lake it’s a wrap. That body is not going to be found.

You know FH ass had to be the one to set him off. She asked him did he know I was engaged.

And the eye starts twitching.

Oh he knows all right and makes it known that “dude is a sucker for fucking around with a cold hearted wrench like myself”.

This riles me up because no one talks about my man like that. I don’t tolerate that shit at all. Say what you want when I’m not around but you’re not just going to slam someone in front of me.

So naturally we gets into it. I’m like, “Ok he’ll be a sucker but none more than you and old girl, I mean wasn’t she fucking your guy while yall were together? I mean damn on your birthday you got a measly card and the shit wasn’t even a Hallmark and he got an X-Box…Guess he was laying that X-Box dick down huh? Damn writing this broad love letters, “I wanna marry you” and all this shit and your guy was piping that. Now that’s sucker…sucker.”

A low blow but oh well, that jab landed right on the fucking jaw.

He gets in his car and pulls off. My brother and FH are joking that that the nigga is going to come back with a gun and air all our asses out when he comes screeching back around the corner.

Oh now he’s pissed.

And he wants to have the last word.

Of course my second name *Bitch* was used in extreme excess and of course he’ll run me over and all the good mess. Now you know I’m highly amused by this so I’m just standing there with this dumb ass smirk on my face because to be honest he amuses me. He’s yelling as loud and he can from the curb and shit while I’m just standing biting my tongue to prevent myself from bursting out laughing.

His accent thickens and he probably calls me all types of foul shit in Jamaican but I’m not easily intimidated so I’m not worried about his ass. He remembers that ass whooping he got the last time he thought he was going to put his damn hands on me and ol’ boy is not a fighter.

He’s all puffed up and breathing hard and FH tells him to calm down and why is he letting me rile him up like that? I mean damn she could have told him I was cold hearted, shit everyone know I’m cold hearted, so why don’t he just gone on home and be easy.

Folks on the block are kinda disappointed that this ain’t going to turn into a brawl so they just wander off. You know thirsty ass niggas are always waiting for someone to box over something.

And since I’m not one of those screeching “Un Uh” Ghetto Bitches, I’m just standing there damn near laughing, they definitely aren’t interested. I mean I didn’t have any earrings to pull off, no pulling my weave back in a ponytail, no Vaseline on the face, so they knew shit wasn’t going to pop off.

OMAR runs out of steam and we kick it in front of the house for a little while and FH dips because she got a phone call from an old Chicago dip and we know dick don’t wait for horny old broads.

I talk to my moms for a nice minute, stuff my face again, and doze off. Niece in the little bouncy chair with her little head cocked to the side, sleep and drooling.

I did make plans to go out but shit when I woke up it was after midnight, I had about four missed calls, and I was still out of it so I went to sleep.

And that was my first Friday at home.