Saturday Night Live...Pt 2

I turn my head and its FH ex boyfriend from high school. He’s looks a little like Jay Z. He’s a pretty cool dude, a little arrogant, but he is funny as hell with a biting type of sarcasm that few understand.

They basically broke up because she got tired of putting up with his mouth and hell what high school relationship lasts? They’re still on speaking terms and of course we’re Face Book buddies. I was surprised to see him because he’s not really a club person.

So we hug, talk shit to each other, and I flag down FH and TWIN because we always joke it never fails we always run into someone from our high school no matter where we are at. Yesterday we ran into two people who we graduated with and both of course were surprised that we did not have children. *sigh* Damn shame most of your graduating class has two plus children, many during high school or right after. We were laughing Friday because everyone assumed FH was pregnant due to the fact that she is way thicker than she was in high school.

We were all like twigs in high school, well I always had a butt, but we were scrawny as hell in high school. I didn’t hit 100 pounds until my Junior year with TWIN being the “heaviest” of the three of us at 105 pounds, and FH towering over our asses at 5’10’’ was tall and skinny. I remember my prom dress had to have the top taken in three times because I had no breasts *well still don’t really. Who ever said men sucking on your breast makes them grow is a damn liar, or shit I needed better men with better mouths or something* and the top was drooping in the front.

Now FH is the heaviest, the Army has sprouted *or paid for* her breasts which are looming on the “D” size. How the fuck did they skip from a “B” to a “D” in the course of five years I have no idea. It must be something in that Iraqi water or something. You know I’m jealous right?

And only TWIN is still the same size as in high school. We think she’s on that shit. Either that or anorexic.

I’m just a tad bit bigger. I gained my freshman 15, lost it, gained some back, lost it, got on the shot, picked up some weigh, lost that, and picked up some more due to my obsession with McDonald’s and I’m working to lose some of that. I weigh 138 *I don’t think I look it though* and while I’m happy that finally I am able to keep weigh on, with my height I don’t want to look chunkier than I really am.

Oh yes and the butt has spread, now it’s clear that I have an ass regardless of what I wear.

Since we’re Face Book buddies and he has written comments on some of the pictures I have on there I guess he wasn’t too surprised by my lack of material. He made a crack that my fiancé was going to come up in the club with a wife beater and some footies and flip out *refer to “Crazy, Deranged” sketch from Martin Lawrence’s You So Crazy*. I think he was stunned by FH because we were all die hard *tight* jeans, t shirts, and sneakers in high school and then when we had to wear uniforms, black Dickies and T shirts. And did I mention her breasts are enormous now?

So we’re laughing and joking because he’s brought alone two of his cronies and since they really don’t do the club scene, they’re acting like arrogant jerks, looking at us like we’re crazy because we’re dancing and having a good time. I guess they’re used to the Wall Posters or something.

One of them try to strike up a conversation by mentioning that he saw my profile on Face Book but because he wasn’t listed as a friend he couldn’t see my entire profile but they *meaning my girl’s ex and him* get bored at school and go through profiles. In fact he thinks he sent me a friendship notification and he thinks I rejected it *which I probably did. If I don’t know you I won’t accept your invite*. Ok whatever but what does this have to do with anything?

He goes on to say that he’s glad I’m cute in person as well as in the pictures because that’s how females get you. Have a raw ass picture on their page but look like a monster in person. Photo shopped like a muthafucker and shit. Or just plain perpetrating. This is kind of true I guess. But then again some folks just take better pictures than others. While I don’t think I’m particularly photogenic *I got some doozies on the computer* I can take a good picture. But whatever. Why are you all up in my album though?

As you can tell I was giving him lukewarm attention. I mean I’m trying to have a good time and he’s trying to lock a sister down with dry conversation.

And then all hell breaks loose.

We’re catching our breathe and decides to partake in another “drank” *you know these types of clubs make their drinks super strong, none of that being stingy with the liquor* and us girls are relaxing our feet because you know them bad boys were burning. I saw a few girls smirking because we had our shoes off in the booth, I guess we should have rocked some Ones or some flip flops or something.
FH leans over and tells me dude is feeling me and has been pumping her ex for info about me or whatnot but he didn’t say much other than I have a boyfriend and I don’t live in Chicago anymore.

And then their other friend who really didn’t say much the entire night came over and asked for my number for his guy. Naturally I told him no as your guy has been yakking to me all night but is too fucking lazy to come over and ask for my number? How lame and how high school. Don’t send your flunky to try to holla.

So naturally dude gets his panties in a bunch and start pouting. I guess he thought I was being arrogant or something because I mean why else wouldn’t I want to holla, I mean do I see how he’s flicking in his outfit and of course his wallet is fat *aren’t they all*so I must be stupid if I want to holla right?

**rolls eyes**

Feet rested, we head back to the dance floor. I’m dancing, having a good time, when he slips up behind me to dance. I’m not really picky with whom I dance with just as long as he keeps his paws to himself and knows how to dance. I’m always being ragged on because I dance with the “ugly” boys at the club *you know the one that your girl grabs your hand and pull you away from shaking her head?* but damn I’m just trying to dance not take the nigga home. And besides most of the time the ugly guys will dance while the pretty ones stunt from the side lines or just can’t dance. Mashing your butt into that big ass belt buckle leaving marks, or just leaning or something, leaving you do all the work.

Why did this fool cup my butt cheek under the skirt? This Negro had the audacity to grip my almost bare butt cheek *I wore boy shorts* and whispered in my ear that he would “fuck the shit out of me”.

I saw RED.

I had my drink in my hand, carefully juking as not to spill a drop of my rum and coke, and when he did that shit, I threw my drink in his face. Yeah my $8 down the drain. But it was a natural reaction.

Of course folks stop what the hell they’re doing to watch me flip out on his bird ass because I just know he did not grab my fucking butt?! Folks stepping back because they knew some shit was about to be shut down! My peoples are trying to calm me down and find out what the hell happened because one minute I’m laughing and next minute my drink is running down his face.

This nigga had a little gutter in him because nigga flipped back, mad because I’ve fucked up his shirt. Now his guys are trying to hold him back because I guess this little froggy was about to leap but shit you know my little ass is down. That’s one thing I can say about me I am *nearly* fearless. I am not scared of any one, my mother told me to never fear a man that can bleed just the same as I can, and I have taken that to heart my whole life. While I probably would have gotten scraped, he was going to be going to the same hospital as me.

So I have to hype the shit up, I’ve already kicked off the shoes and was ready to thump while everyone is trying to separate us. FOOL is tucking in the chain and ready to squad up, I mean we’re all ride or die.

Enter the bouncers. One grabs me and the other grabs him and we begin our trot to the door while my friends are trying to explain what went down before I am tossed out the club. The bouncer who had me was kinda cute and he’s grumbling talking about I should be ashamed of myself acting like a heathen in the club and of course links my anger to alcohol which to my defense I only have two drinks plus a few sips of the one I threw in the guy’s face.

In the end, they tossed him and allowed me to stay with the bouncers watching me like a hawk. We have a good laugh about the situation because what else could you really do besides take the shit to the parking lot and although I am still salty I manage to have a great time.

We stumble out the club at about 3 am and go to the Harold’s on 127th and Halsted because it was open late. You know I had to have my five piece with mild sauce. I was so tired after eating I fell asleep in the car and woke up when they tossed my ass out the car.

Had to do the “Ghetto Holler” for my mama to open the door because I was too lazy to look for my keys. Of course she was not amused but she was up anyway because my niece was up. I take my niece and retreat to “her” room and together we both fall asleep. My mother snapped a picture of us sleeping so when she gets the film developed she’ll send me one. Eventually I had to put her in her crib because I like to toss and turn and I was scared to move because I didn’t want to roll over on her and she’s a mover as well.

Woke up Sunday at about 1 or 2 in the afternoon. Lazed around. Talked on the phone with FOOL who was nursing a hang over. We later made plans to go over to TWIN’s father house where we watched Flavor of Love, The Wire and Def Comedy Jam as you know clowning the entire time.

Ok that was the first weekend at home. Sorry it took so long.