My Saturday Night in Chicago

Well for the record I ain’t knocked up BUT I did get the drugs that I wanted so I’m straight now. Ok never mind that I had to have blood drawn for a test that I knew the results not to mention the lecture about how continuously taking my birth control pills is bad for my health.

Well….put me back on the shot then.

So instead of looking like an extra from the Land of the Dead *which is a good movie by the way* I can now join the Land of the Living…somewhat.

I mean so what my nose is all chapped up and still reddish and ok I may have a few bags under my eyes. And I still have that hacking Tuberculosis cough but other than that…

At least my hair looks fabulous.

I have been setting records at the salon. In and out in less than two hours AND that’s with time under the dryer.

But back to the story at hand…My Saturday night in Chicago.

I’m home…you guessed it chilling around the house in my brand new Hello Kitty PJs playing with my brand new Hello Kitty watch.

What can I say? My mother spoils me.

I hear someone calling my name doing the “Hood Call”, you know folks don’t utilize their cell phones around my way. We just stand outside your building and yell until you come to the window.

It’s one of my old partners in crimes from when you couldn’t drag me off of my block. She went away to finish high school in Mississippi Junior Year and just recently moved back into the area after finishing college. One of the few girls on my block that I fucked with because we had similar goals not to mention we have the same fucked up sense of humor. Yet another “stuck up” chick because our goals were not to have a baby by some thug ass cat before we were out of high school.

So I was pretty excited to see her because I haven’t seen her in a few years. After catching up on our lives since high school she asked did I want to go out for some drinks with her and a “friend” this evening, you know to finish catching up and relieve some hilarious moments to a captivating audience.

Now when she said “friend” instantly I was suspicious because I know her. She is the reason Lesson #5 was created due to quite a few disastrous incidents during our trying teen years.

Lesson #5- NO Double Dates.

I detest double dates with a vengeance. Either I don’t like the woman or I don’t like the man which leads to…um minor incidents and a list of places where my services are no longer welcomed. Tuh like I liked that Olive Garden anyways.

So after giving her the side eye because I know what she be on, she assured me that it was just going to be me, her and her guy.

Warning her of bodily harm if she violated Lesson #5 because after all I have a steady bf and I flashed the ring to let her know I am not interested in having some guy in my face after the last time I was thrust into a double date.

Eh it’s somewhere in the archives.

I get dressed and throw the two fingers to the kiddies who were fighting over toys. I won’t even mention how half of the toys they received for Christmas are already broken. The only toys that are in perfect condition are the baby’s and even then they were eyeing her Fisher Price shit.

Old destructive ass kids. And they wonder why I bought them clothes for Christmas. Maybe that way my payback, getting sick. Damn kids put roots on me and shit.

So we get to the spot and before we can walk in, she grabbed my arm and said those words that I hate to hear:

You’re going to be mad at me…

The bitch done did it again. Her guy’s friend was just getting over a break-up and since he knew I would be coming alone he decided to “invite” his guy along, you know to get him out the house and shit.

I was pissed. Did I not just say I don’t want a fucking double date? So I demanded to be taken home. So we’re arguing out in front of the place like idiots when they come outside to meet us.

Granted dude was a little cute but I was too heated about being lied to.

I guess he could tell I wasn’t thrilled by his presence but shit he wasn’t thrilled by my presence either. Apparently he wasn’t told I was coming along and like I did not appreciate being “hooked up” either.

So we’re just looking at each like we’re crazy and were dragged into the restaurant looking like prisoners taking that trip to the chair.

I’m shooting her death glares across the table and praying that she chokes on her chicken fingers for lying and shit when dude had to open his big ass mouth and announce that I don’t have to worry because trust he does not want my ass and if we weren’t stuck out in the middle of no where and he had his car he would leave.

*silence*

Did he just insult me, I was thinking because trust the feeling is mutual.

So I had to have some slick shit to say because shit it wouldn’t be me.

So I went for the low blow followed by the jab to the face and mentioned that since he got dumped doesn’t that mean no one wants him because I have someone at home but we can’t say the same for him right?

Shut him the fuck up. Yeah nigga face was looking a little salty.

I will give him credit though. He did get some jabs in during the night and after awhile we warmed up to one another if not to trade insults with one another.

Like when he said I should watch my alcohol intake since it was obvious that I was carrying a “little one” judging by my stomach pudge.

Yeah that shut me down for a hot second. I almost choked on my salad laughing at that one because it was nicely executed.

I tipped my hat to that one.

Oh course my girl and her guy were rolling because they thought we were hitting it off.

I won’t even get into the argument we had over Jay Z’s new album which I think sucks but apparently I was talking to one of Jay Z’s biggest fan and he took personal insult like Jay Z is his daddy or something.

Yeah I got the CD, I downloaded that shit off the internet because I would have been mad if I wasted $18 bucks *or whatever cds cost nowadays* on that crap.

I hate when people try to bring up the entire history of rap/hip-hop in an argument like I know half of the artists they’re spitting. It still won’t change my mind on how I feel.

Let it be known that while I appreciate music and I do enjoy it sometimes, I’m just not a rap/hip-hop fan. I listen to artists that I personally enjoy and that doesn’t make I can quote every single album, single, or lyrics by heart.

I like only TWO Jay Z albums and that’s it. I’ve listened to his other albums but it’s only two that I personally enjoy.

That being said Kingdom Come sucks. You can tell when his heart is into it and when he’s just cranking out some shit to get people off his back about making another album.

And once again, 99% of shit that’s out is fake as shit. I don’t believe a word that being spit.
We don’t believe you, you need more peoples.

So I told him to hop off Jay Z’s 40 year old nut sack like he needed dude to co-sign about his album because he needed to go back to the studios for that shit.

Of course I was all kinds of “haters” and “I’m mad because I can’t rap” and I’m “jealous” that Jay Z has money *which wasn’t even part of the argument at hand but you know folks are quick to bring money into an argument like I’m sitting at home in the dark mad because Jay Z is worth 50 million and I’m worth like…well whatever is in my checking and savings*

And trust considering the shit that’s cranked out today I can sooo be MC Tenacious rocking the mike. All I need is a fucked up Remy weave, some gold teeth, a hot beat and a title proclaiming I’m Queen of the Midwest and bam! Platinum right there.

MTV Cribs here I come…straight Redman’s style.

But before we could whip out the razor blades on one another and take it to the streets straight Ghetto style, the check came.

And see E a sista paid her own tab because I was not about to let that fool pay for anything that is mine since he went on some tirade that women are “Gold Diggers” or some foolishness like that.

Guess old girl ganked him for all he got because there was a strong taste of bitterness in that mouth of his.

Now I wanted to go home and he wanted to go home but oh no it’s time to party. You know I cursed her ass out in the car, right?

Thus we hit this little sports bar in Matteson, IL that I dubbed Cheers because everyone knew these damn guys!

We settle into a booth where the first rounds of many insued. I can’t tell you what I drunk outside of my rum&coke, vodka&OJ, and a shot of Patron because we were getting drinks left and right.

Of course drinks loosen you up so me and dude called a truce and began relating funny stories to one another. I felt kind of bad about my low blow from earlier because he told me his girl had cheated on him with a good friend of his and she broke up with him to go with the other guy.

But before you know it, my girl and I were slapped. Like falling out of the chair drunk.

And then the DJ started to play some of our cuts so what did we do as drunken chicks? Naturally hop our drunken asses on the table and begin to dance. We’re wobbling, table wobbling and we’re trying to dance on the table Coyote Ugly style.

By the time we were yanked off the table, the damage had been done. Suddenly we had the attention of everyone in the sports bar. Namely the men. And the drinks began coming again.

We rejected most of them, I mean we were drunk already, and our gentlemen friends were not pleased by the attention we brought on ourselves but you can’t debate with drunk ass chicks.

Especially us two who is prone to hearing loss not to mention belligerence. I’m a happy drunk until you make me mad.

The men took it as a sign of disrespect that guys, who obviously saw us with men, were buying us drinks, virtually ignoring them while we saw it *through Drunko-Vision* that the dudes buying us drinks were suckers because we weren’t drinking them, we were giving them away.

And since I was not fucking either guy I could care less.

After being led off of the dance floor by one of the bouncers who decided we were acting a little too “loose” on the dance floor, we left.

See I left before I could get kicked out, good shit right?

We were driving home where I slept on the ride home only to wake up the whole neighborhood with our drunken screeches of affection.

After trying *and failing* at trying to open the door, I finally screamed for my mother to come let me in the door.

Of course my keys didn’t work because as I said early I was trying to use my VA keys instead of my Chi-Town keys.

Was placed in the bed so I can sleep off my drunken slumber.

Apparently I was drunk texting again.

Ima really need to put a lock on my phone while drinking.