How NOT to go on a date!

I tell her, "I'll pick you up at 10. The movie starts at 10:30pm."

I arrive at her place at around 9:50pm. I call her to let her know that I am outside waiting for her. Of course, she needs a few more minutes to "make her hair look like something"

No problem.

It's 10:10. A police car passes. I text the hoodrat: "Hurry up. Cop just passed. Bet they fuck with me." Within 1 minute, the police car comes, all lights go on high beam. It's a tactic they use so they can see better as well as blind the other person just in case they want to play dirty. I know the rules, I have my information ready and my game face on. But, I can't help but laugh at the typical situation. They check my ID and leave.

It's 10:15. I think, "What is this chick doing? We're going to be late to the movie."
Text: What's taking you so long?
She responds: I'm fixing my hair.
Text: How long is it taking for you to fix your hair?
No response.
I think I wanna go back home because this chick is seriously wasting my time. But, I ain't doing shit anyway so I'll just chill.

It's 10:30. She finally comes out. She's on the phone and her hair looks like shit but I don't say anything about anything. I get out to greet her, open the door for her, etc etc etc. She doesn't get off the phone for about 10 minutes.

I fly up the parkway to get to the theater. Conversation was decent.

It's 10:50. We get to the concessions stand.
I think, "Reese's Pieces and slushie." It's not really a thought. It's what I always get. I ask her if she wants anything. It turns out to be a mistake. She looks at the menu for what seems like an eternity and moans, "Let me get a pizza." I think, "Bitch tryin to get a meal out the movies?"

"You can't have pizza," says the clerk. "The oven is off." She whines, "Oh come on. Can't you turn it on for me!" I say, "The movie has already started, choose something!" She looks at the menu for what seems like another eternity, "Gimme nachos." I think, "Hungry bitch! Get some candy!"

I pay and we make our way to our seats. Of course, the movie has started. Being that the theater was empty, I pick the middle of the second row from the back. She screeches, "I don't wanna sit there!" At this point, I am pretty much fed up. I start watching the movie, take a pull on my slushie, and tell her, "Ok, sit where you want to sit." No, I didn't sit somewhere else. I thought about it though.

Finally we're situated in our seats. Candy is open. Nachos are prepared. Slushies are actively being drained. She starts talking. At first, it's light conversation. Then I find out, she's one of those... those.. TALKERS. She's not just talking, she's discussing shit. I try to ignore. She's still talking. I try selective conversation whereby I try to control the flow of conversation by interrupting her during active scenes but re-engaging her during quiet scenes such as travel scenes and so on. I made this technique up on the spot. IT DID NOT WORK. She continued talking. I gave up and went back to ignoring her.

Although, I do believe the selective conversation technique would work on normal people who talk, it is NOT hoodrat proof.

About 20 minutes towards the end of the movie, a guy, most likely a theater employee, can be heard opening a bag of candy behind us. While it didn't bother me, my date sprang into action in the loudest possible whisper, "Why he gotta be opening his bag all loud like that for?" In my mind, all I hear is Flava Flav say, "WOOOOOOOW!" Within a few seconds, the guy is successful in opening his candy and my date turns back around to not only watch the movie but CONTINUE TALKING.

Great, the movie is over. I am ready to take her ass home. But, she must use the bathroom. No problem. A lot of people use the bathroom after the movie. That's what it's there for. What can go wrong?

"Can you hold my cup?" She hands me the cup. Noticing there's not much left in it, I ask. "Want me to just throw it out?" Sure, I knew she asked me to hold it. But, why am I holding a cup with nothing in it? I am allergic to doing dumb shit for other people. She says, "Oh no. There's something in it. I want to let it melt so I can get it."

This is usually one of those moments where you hope your face doesn't show exactly what you're feeling.

I go sit down on the bench. There's only three other people waiting with me. One person comes out and then another. Now, I am the only person left waiting. Then, I feel this shiver crawl up my shoulder and back. It really annoys me. I can feel someone staring at me. I think, "What's taking this chick so long?" I turn my head to face the bathroom and there she is standing there with this stupid smile on her face. I am thoroughly freaked out and annoyed. I just want to know what she's doing there eyeballing me like that.

I ask, "Why are you looking at me like that?"
She says, "I wanted to see who you were talking to on the phone."
I am confused.
I ask, "What makes you think I was on the phone?"
As she's walking over, she leans in and taps the bluetooth piece in my ear.
I say, "It's a bluetooth earpiece. It goes in your ear."
She says, "I heard voice outside of the bathroom."
I say, "Ummm, there were other people out here."

I finally get to drive her home.

In hindsight, I should have known it was going to be bad when the cops showed up. It's always a bad omen for Black people when the police show up. I should have just went home.

We did talk again after the date. She asked me, "what are we doing on the second date?" In my way to rebuke this demon, I said, "we'll figure it out when we get to it!" She said, "we are to it now!" I manipulated a series of fights with her, based on the truth. I don't talk to her anymore.

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Crazy Wild Surreal Dreams

I don't dream often. Or, as I was told, I dream all the time but I just don't remember them. But, when I do "remember" those dreams, they fall into two categories: recurring nightmares and incredibly surreal. While my recurring nightmares occur once in a blue moon, the incredibly surreal dreams usually happen after I eat some sort of food. I don't quite know what food helps trigger these dream states. But, I know it's going to happen when I get very tired, very quickly, and I have to just lay down and fall asleep. This is different from the "itis" which comes on slowly. I can resist that. I am talking about a "super-itis" that just puts me in this very "weakened" state.

And no. I was not high at any time. In fact, I haven't had any sweet marijuana in over four months.

So, today, I had this incredibly surreal dream. First of all, I ate a half plate of curry chicken, rice and peas, and plantain. I had to stop eating it because I found pork in it which is just unnecessary. Frankly, it's kind of gross. I laid down and wrapped myself in the comforter, snuggling up to my pillow, and just being easily taken away into dreamland.

In my dream, I wake up and I am tending to a marijuana plant. It's still pretty young and small. All I am doing is watering it with a nutrient solution (GH 3-part to be exact) and checking the leaves for any signs of damage. As I put it down, it starts to rumble lightly in my hand. I bring it back up to look at it closely and I notice the leaves start to grow quickly. Then, out of nowhere, it sprouts up about 3 feet with thick heavy buds. I don't quite know why it grew like that but I was very happy about it.

When I finally put it down, I noticed another small plant that I simply did not recognize. It was just a sprout in the dirt. But, it was in a plastic flower pot. I don't like plastic flower pots. So, I picked it up to inspect it. It didn't look like much. Once again just as I put it down, it began to grow quickly. Amazingly enough, it turned out to be a beautiful white rose which grew into an amazing white rose bush. So, I put the rose bush next to the mature marijuana plant, placed my hand on my knee, and just sat in confusion.

Then, I felt a rumble in my knee. I totally forgot about these fully grown plants and just looked at my knee half-knowing what to expect. It just looked a bit swollen but it stopped. But, my worry wasn't alleviated. Within minutes, my knee was rumbling again and started growing. It was as if the bone was sprouting more bone. Before I knew it, my knee was about six feet tall.

I woke up. I felt for my knee. It was normal. I checked the time. It was only two hours later.

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Story of a Mastermind Criminal Child

When I was in the 5th grade, PS 125 in Harlem, the teacher, Ms. C, used this reward system called Scholar Dollars. Basically, depending on the grades we got on tests, good behavior, and so on, we'd get Scholar Dollars. We would use this money to pay for trips to the bathroom, get water from the fountain, or anything else that I can't remember 18 years later.

Well one day, we were doing something on the floor of the classroom. I can't remember exactly what. But, I remember wanting to go to the bathroom. As I got up to ask permission, I grabbed for my wallet and found that it wasn't there. I looked back to the area and saw my wallet on the floor.. OPEN. I had a cheap red wallet with velcro. There's no reason it should have been open. I am pretty sure my wallet fell out of my pants as it has happened before. However, I knew someone saw it and decided to snatch my money.

I pick up my OPENED wallet and found around 13 scholar dollars left. I was robbed. I was pissed. 200+ scholar dollars gone. They had the nerve to leave me with a little something. Just take it all damn it. Don't make it look like I was just broke. I was a good student. An honor roll student. I had cake (slang meaning I had a lot of money). Oh, the heart break. I complained to Ms. C and she had no feelings for me. It was my problem and that's the end of that. I had to go to the bathroom and I had just enough left to do that. Ms C took my money. She was heartless to my plight.

When I got home, I told my father about what happened. He looked over the money I had left and said we could just make copies. EUREKA. That's a fine idea, dad. We went to his copy machine which used roller paper - thick, waxy, heavy ink. This simply would NOT work. My father said it was fine. I knew better. Unfortunately, my father was not exactly one for proper execution. In fact, he still isn't one for the proper execution of anything.

I knew, if this were going it to be done, it had to be done right. I wound up in the basement of Columbia University at their copy center. My mother had connections there so when I got there, they actually recognized me. The guy did the copies for me. But, I'd have to use that scary monster of a paper cutter on my own. I sucked it up and braved the cold hard steel torture device for perfect cuts of my new Scholar Dollars.

I went back to school with my new money. I only made enough to get back to where I was before. But, I had a lot of small bills being that's what I was left with. So, I used the students to change my 1's and 5's to 10's and 20's. I was back on top folks.

Little did I know this would be the start to my criminal career in the 5th grade.

Ms C realized what was going on. She made an announcement, among loud whispers of my name from those little snitches, that things were going to change. I knew it was because of me but she didn't point me out. Ms C set up a bank where we'd keep our money and only be allowed to deposit or withdraw once a week. And, my friend, Moses, was the banker.

I didn't think about her subsequent counter measures as a reaction to my activities. I was greedy by now. I wanted more and I was getting away with it. So, I figured out a way to get more when she set up a new barrier. She'd eventually start signing the bills individually to counter my counterfeiting. That only lead me into the world of forgery as her signature was about as difficult to forge as those Scholar Dollars. She ended up using colored paper which I suppose was harder to get.

But, that didn't stop me. Why waste my money counterfeiting and my time forging signatures when there were fresh sheets of 100 Scholar Dollar bills in the bank book, already signed? The banker was my friend. So, I got into theft and got him into theft as well. My friend would get the sheets to me and we'd split the money as I'd handle the cutting. We had thousands between us. Kids with bad grades needed a little something. They'd come to me for it.

Eventually, Ms C canceled the Scholar Dollars. I laughed. I broke the system. Counterfeiting. Forgery. Theft. Money laundering. Who would have thought a 10yo could break the system? Although, I've always felt that Ms C knew it was me, she never confronted me. But, the experience taught me a lot - due diligence, patience, moderation, planning. When someone starts changing up the game, find a new game to play.

That's the story of a mastermind criminal child. And, I still haven't been caught yet!

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What would it be like if Europe didn't loot Africa?

I was just day dreaming about what life would be like in Africa if white folks kept their greedy, resource hungry asses in Europe!

I'd wake up in my duplex hut at the break of dawn. Scratch my ass (much like I do now)! Squeeze my wife's exposed tiddy gently to wake her up (like I did with my ex). She'd hit me for squeezin' her boob and grunt (like my ex did). I'd laugh because I like to make her mad! Walk out to the tree and take a good looooong piss (much like I do now)! Hunt for breakfast with my trusty handmade bow and arrow. I'd shoot down a few birds to bring back for my wife to cook. She'd see I got a lil food and proceed to cut it up and cook. Some days, I'd pluck the birds but today was kind of slow so I am a little tired. But, I do go wake up the kids for breakfast.

As they eat and get crazy, I'd take a nap before taking Anthony Jr. out for hunting lessons with the rest of the fellas and their kids. I would take him in the morning but I like my "me" time! We gotta bring back some elk! The women folk are tending to the huts, gathering fruits and berries, and water! My wife, always the go-getter that she is, decides she and her friend will brew some tea so they gather the tea leaves. She knows how I love tea... mmm mmm mmmmm delicious!

We come back to the village with the dead animals. The women begin to skin it, carve it up, season it, and cook it. The men tell stories around the fire with the children listening. However, I am a little way off watching the usual festivities with Anthony Jr. because he's 14. He's almost ready to become a man which involved some crazy ritual. He's more worried about the wife I picked out for him. I would tell him, "Look at me! You know how I get dooooown! I won't do you dirty little man! I got ya back! We gon hook up a nice little hut for you while you are on your trial and when you get back, it'll be done and your wife will be waiting for you. And, trust me, you'll know what to do when you get back!"

Then, a shiver will run down my spine as my daughter comes to tell me dinner is ready. She's my heart, my pride and joy! The spine shiver comes from the fact that she's just started her cycle for the first time. I ain't lettin no one know shit! No one taking my little girl from me. Then again, she's such a cutie pie. She'll fetch a serious dowry. I am sure I can get some cattle and chickens to start a little farm of my own. Eh, I am hungry. My wife brings my plate and surprises me with my favorite tea. I love this woman! We all sit and eat, one big village. It's like a cookout, every night!

The wife and I would walk out into the forest a bit and sit under our tree. I'd hear a noise in the distance, pull out my knife that Mbubu made for me, and get into my kill-something stance. Wifey is all tense and attentive. It turns out it was just a small rat. Damn rats all over I swear! Wifey would calm down and get real hot off of seeing me be such a fuckin protector and provider. We'd do it right there under the stars!

PEACEFUL

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Please learn english!

This whole issue of folks coming to the US and not learning a lick of English is getting out of hand.

So check this out. I am hungry as hell. It's late. But, I am hungry. Also, I need money. I hate not having shit in my pocket. I had some dollars hanging around somewhere but I didn't feel like looking.

I decide to drive to the bank. As I come out of the bank, this taxi cab pulls up next to me. The driver, a Dominican fellow, needs some directions. I mute the radio to try to hear him clearly. I still can not understand a word he is saying. Ok, I understood the word "abbanoo" which is "spanglish" for avenue. But, I couldn't understand what avenue he wanted. It sounded like 18th avenue in the Bronx. There's no 18th avenue in the Bronx, at least none that I know and definitely not in the vicinity.

So, I look at the passenger. I figure he or she could tell me. This dude opens the window and it's a Mexican guy. Would you believe his English was WORSE than the cab driver's. If I didn't understand they were looking for an avenue in the first place, I would have been completely lost from what this guy is saying. So I tell them, "I don't understand you!" They drive off!

On my hunt for food I stop by the Arab bodega around corner from my home. It's late so they got the little window open with the KFC turning thing. Alex comes to the window to call the previous customer over to let him know his stuff is ready. The customer asks the clerk for something in some of the worse spanglish I had ever heard in my life. So the clerk speaks to him in Spanish but not any sentences, just the spanish words he's picked up over the years. So, he gets the items and change. The dude requests one more item. He doesn't know the word for it in English so he tells him in Spanish. Clerk doesn't understand him because he doesn't speak spanish. He just knows a few words. So the dude looks at me as if I was going to be able to help him.

"No hablo espanol!" My accent is so tight when I say that too! By the way, that means, "I don't speak Spanish." And yes, it's in Spanish.

Dude pops out a cell phone to make a call. Obviously, he's calling to find out the word for what he wants in English. I make my order while he's on the phone. I stand back. Clerk's bringing me my order. The dude is still on the phone. Finally, he blurts out the english word for the item he needed. No, I won't tell you yet. But, I knew it was going to cause trouble so I quickly jumped ahead and added a few more items so I could be done and not have to wait for upcoming conversation of frustration. I got my stuff and just watched as I walked away.

COOKIE! This is what he wanted. He wanted some damn cookies. The clerk asks him what kind of cookies? And, there goes the further frustration I anticipated! I walked back to my car, got in and drove away.

And, "resident Americans", before you decide to use this as fodder for your own anti-immigrant stupidity, explain yourselves: Anti-Immigration Protester Needs A Spell-Check. At least immigrants have a reason. Exactly, what is yours?

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Life's Funny Little Things

So, I sit here bored out of my mind, desperately trying to fall asleep. My mind races over what's been, what is, and what might be. I decide to change my security camera position under the window sill. It's been bugging me for the last few days because I wanted a new position. I like to watch what's happening on the street below me. A new position would give me a new perspective - maybe.

As I stand up to do so, I notice, out of the corner of my eye, possibly out of the deepest corner of my peripheral vision, a small white.. something. As some of you know, my room isn't the cleanest in the world. Let's just say Hurricane Katrina made a quick stop here after it hit New Orleans. But, out of all this clutter, I noticed this little white something. It's a third, maybe a quarter, of a joint I rolled. That may not seem like much but you have to understand when I roll a joint, I roll em pretty thick and heavy. It's that concentration in such a small space that makes one of my joints pretty potent.

Anyway, it had to have some age on it because I hadn't smoked anything in 2 weeks and I was already wiring up. You see, I am kind of uptight about things - wired too tightly. Smoking calms me down, loosens me up. It keeps me from thinking about things too much as I am known to do.

I looked at it and got somewhat excited. I now had another thing to do besides reposition this camera. If I stop now to inspect this joint, I will never get to this camera I've already neglected quite enough. Well, you save the best things for last. I fix the camera and before I could close the window again my attention is focused on this joint on the floor. It's like a woman and I want to kiss her. I want that sensation again. How could I have forgotten all of this glorious herb? I think God did it. Or, maybe I did. The plant makes you somewhat forgetful but who cares; she's here now, she wants me and I want her.

I pick her up and inspect the body. I find her to be intact and begging for the heat of my Colibri. But, I want to tease her a bit, enjoy her scent, feel her body with my fingertips. I put her to my lips to breath her scent inside me. It's sort of like a taste test to make sure everything is just right! You don't just pick up a woman and start doing it. I had to make sure she's optimal because I don't want to put it in if neither one of us is ready. And, conditions are perfect.

I bit my bottom lip, trapping it between my teeth to moisten, and then lick the upper lip. I want this to be just right. She's only available to me this one time and I may not see her for another month or more. I grab my lighter and feel for the studs of the trigger. I pop the cap back to reveal the ignition chamber. I bring her to my lips, hit the trigger, and pull her essence into me. As I consume her, she consumes me. The air is flavored with her scent now.

Breath in, breath out. Repeat. Pass! To who? Back to myself.

I get a bit greedy with her. I pull on her too much. She sort of chokes me a little bit. This girl bites back. I need to ease up little bit in our session. I take my time and enjoy her to the fullest. Within a few minutes, she's giving me what I need - a release of my worries, a slight chuckle at my disposition, and an overall better time. A few minutes later and she's finished but my ride has just started.

I am high!

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