Misadventures of the Village Idiot #19

This is my first weekend without Erique.  While he was here, I wasn’t going out much.  He doesn’t know the house.  Doesn’t know the neighbourhood.  He hardly knew where he was, in case of an emergency, what would he do.  I did go out a few times, but I never stayed out too late, except for the Wack Ass Party.

Anyway, so last night, I was ready to cut loose.

Freak Night
Okay, so I head out to Ascension because they had a guest DJ that I wanted to hear.  Because gas is so expensive, I don’t drive to other cities to see How They Goth anymore like I used to.  I never did make it to that spot in Delaware or the place out in Charlottesville.  Maybe one day when I am feelin’ ballin’ out of control.

The guest DJ was already spinning when I got there.  Soon as I walked in the door Skinny Puppy was playing, and I never miss a chance to dance to Skinny Puppy.  I put my bag down, get on the floor and start dancing.  I wore a pencil skirt, an off the shoulder barbarian top and these pink round-toe heels I bought a few weeks ago.  Harder to dance in than I thought, even though the heel is lower.  They were slippery on the inside and once my feet started sweating, my foot was sliding around in the shoe.  But I maintained.

But these girls sitting in my usual seat were staring me hard in the face.  Okay, what the fuck do you want?  They made me feel like I came out without my wig, like I just rolled in the club with my wig cap on and nothing else.  Okay, whateves.

His whole set was fresh, and in the end I had to change into my Ed Hardys because I didn’t want to bust my ass.  I planned on wearing the Ed Hardys to Leon’s party anyway, so might as well make the switch. 

It was very crowded in the club, more so than usual, and this time the stanky body raunch factor was very high.  Usually, it’ll be a few guys that need some deodorant, like the guy I didn’t realise was sitting next to me.  I was sitting there, waiting for a song and every now and again I would get this whiff of putrescence, like a bear had got caught in a bear trap, and had to gnaw its own foot to get free, and then the foot was just sitting there in the trap, rotting away and maggots had started to feast on it.  On top of some old collard greens.  That is what it smelled like.

Three seconds later, this guy uncurls from the wall next to me. I didn’t even see him, and he walked past and I got a whiff of the air he created, and I swear to God, I lost the top layer of my epidermis.  It just melted right off because he smelled so bad.

No, but this time, in addition to funk, there was someone who smelled like he had been bathing in the urine of bums.  Like, you know, bums pee outside and this guy would seek out bums and splash around in their pee.  Gross.  I don’t know why hygiene is such a taboo for some people. I  know that in goth scene there are a lot of hippies who are all natural, and they forego the deodorant.  No, honey, you better get you some Old Tom’s Natural or scrub some bleach under their or something.  I don’t know.  There must be something you can do rather than just coming out smelling like a paper mill.  (If you have ever smelled one of those you will know EXACTLY what I’m talking about.)

I left the club even though I did not want to.  The DJ was really good, and I didn’t even get to hear Neska play.  I’ve heard her before but I forgot what kind of set she is into.  I promised Leon that I would come and it was getting late, so I pulled off my goth skirt and changed into those skanky short ass shorts. 

The Sisterhood of the Travelling Hot Pants
Okay, so here is the deal with the skanky short ass shorts.  Anybody who knows me, they know I just really do not dress like that.  I am into sexy not scuzzy, but I have worn the shorts before… to the beach.  And I felt the last time I wore them I just didn’t really look that good.  (I think I might do a before and after because I have an old picture of me in those shorts). 

Anyway, this time last summer I weighed 171 pounds.  I now weigh 146.  That’s a huge difference for some little shorts.  I am a lot more toned, and a whole lot more in shape, so I was like, why the fuck not!  I do believe in a time and a place for everything and a party is the perfect place for skanky shorts.  If I showed up to my office in those shorts, you have my permission to beat me with a sack of oranges.

At any rate, when I blew into Leon’s party, all eyes were on me.  First of all, Sherika in some skank shorts?  I didn’t even feel like they were that short because you could not see cheek and the material they were made out of prevented any wardrobe malfunction.  So why was it that big a deal?  Hahahah.  Maybe just cuz it was me.

I know I don’t have Tina Turner gams, but I do got sexxy leggs, so why the hell not?

The Red Carpet Event
I have alerady provided my commentary to my preferred reader list.  The nine of you can read all about what I thought in “TSA Sponsored Event No. 33: The Red Carpet Event.”  A few hoes had to ruin it for everyone else, and from here on out any event I attend will only be viewable to my preferred list.  If you look like trash, be prepared to get talked about.  That should be an incentive to step up your game and stop digging in the dollar bin at Old Navy to find something cute to wear.  If you’re shopping at Family Dollar or your face looks like the Boston Massacre, I’m going to say something about it because that’s just what I do.

At any rate, I had been on the fence of even going to his party because I wondered how I might be received.  I am not into starting trouble at other people’s events, and I said I was going to sit it out until some people discovered I wasn’t going.  I think some people were glad, but others were like, “Okay, why not?”  It was the horoscope that convinced me to go.  It was creepy accurate.

I told Leon I would come, but I wasn’t dressing up.  I am tired of going out to hip hop parties dressed like a prom queen and hardly able to dance because my feet hurt or I don’t want to mess up nice clothes.  And then what makes me so freakin’ mad is that the guys always look like trash, so what the fuck am I dressing up for?  It is just annoying to me to be tweaking, tweezing, plucking, squeezing and perfuming to show up to some place where all the guys are in grimy jeans, a sweat nasty had and beer stains on their wife beaters.  I’m supposed to swoon?  Yeah, i don’t think so.

I honestly love to dance, even to hip hop music.  I think my problem with the clubs and the scene up here is the north favourite east coast rap.  I just don’t like it.  Jay Z is wonderful, and the greatest rapper, blah blah blah, but his music is not danceable to me.  It’s boppy, two-step, wave you drink in the air, and do a little chair rhythm dance.  It’s not really dance music.  None of that crap that comes out of north is cute.  Philly, New York, whatever. 

I didn’t grow up listening to hip hop music, per se, but nowadays when I visit my sister and brother, they only listen to really hood, dirty south music.  My sister is not chillaxin’ to Nas or Kanye West or T-Pain or any of that.  If you play that, I’m bored, but when I got to Leon’s party I heard dirty south stuff, and even played old shit:  Hot Boys?  Oh, yeah.  That’s what I’m talking about.

And since I wasn’t taking pictures or prancing around in high heels like a horse at a dressage competition, I could actually dance and I danced almost the whole time I was there.  I’m sure there were plenty of pictures snapped with me shaking my ass.  I don’t give a damn.  It’s a party, and that’s what happens at parties.

Okay, what I didn’t like:  the guys!  Yes, finally, I am glad to go to a party that has more guys than overdressed, skanky stuck up hoes.  The last few parties I went to was nothing but hoes, and I am not in the mood to stand around and stare at other hoes.  But the guys… goddamn, they were BEASTS.

Fellas, can I give you some advice?  If a girl doesn’t want to dance, she fucking doesn’t want to dance!  There were plenty of chicks in there, go find someone else.  Guys be acting like that one girl is the only damn girl on the face of the planet.

Domingo, please, if you’re gonna drink, make sure you put some of those breath strip thingies in your pocket and pop one every now and again.  Sorry to put you on blast, but you made my contacts dry out your breath was so hot.  He was the first fiend.  I have no idea what song it was, but I got up to dance and he was on my ass like a magnet and some metal filings.  He said, “Why did you come to a party if you don’t want to dance.”  I do want to dance, just not with you, or any other dude, for that matter.  I want to look at guys, not dance with guys.  “You have to try something new.”  How the hell do you think I figured out I don’t like dancing with guys?  “Just try something new.  Try something new.”  Oh, God, the whole time my stomach was turning because his breath smelled like fermenting yeast.  I had ate hours ago so my stomach was empty and I got that dry heave feeling going on.

He finally leaves, only for some jackass in a red hat to keep following me around.  I don’t know who you are, you were kind of cute until your pushy tactics turned me off.  I kept spinning away from him; that should be a cue.  I’m not trying to blow you off in front of your friends, just give you a hint I’m not interested, and he just kept coming back, kept on coming back.  GET OFF MY NUTS!  Finally, I had to push him away.

Same with the really tall ass guy, he was tall as Serapis (did that chick grow, or did I shrink? I swear to God, she was not that tall before.)  The tall guy kept coming back too, and kept getting rejected.  The problem, he was too goddamn tall, and my face was level with his sweaty nasty ass shirt.  Gross. 

Diarra, bring a towel next time.  I love you, but for real.  After I hugged him I felt like I had just gone swimming.

Brandi looks even more like a boy than she… he… what the fuck ever… did before.  The locks were cool, but when I saw her… him… errr, yeah… I was like… that’s Brandi?  No, that’s Brandon.

I hate Baltimore’s wack ass club laws.  Two a.m. is nothing.  At any rate, I was there for like an hour before the powers that be were trying to kick us out.  The lights came up and I got to see who everybody actually was.  When I first came in, it was so damn dark I couldn’t recognise anybody.  Tiffany said I walked right past her.  I never even noticed.  Then when I saw Adrienne and Ayanna, someone said, “Shit, the goddamn Paparazzi is in the house.”  So, at first, I thought it was Gloria who had said it, but then later I saw Gloria, and she didn’t look like that other person.  I don’t know who the fuck that was.  I’m so blind.

I went out into the parrking lot for a few minutes and chatted it up with the MdTAP.  One of them didn’t know I had quit like two years ago.  The other one was staring at my ass.  **in a sleazy voice** Yeah, it’s getting real tight too.  Mmm.  All those step classes and tae kwon do kicks making my legs look real good, and you want it, and you know it.

Hahahah.  I am so over the top.

Some random group of young boys called me a bitch because he couldn’t get no play.  Fellas, some more advice.  Lone, decent girls do not go up to a group of drunk men in a dark parking lot after a party.  We wave, say hi, and keep it moving. Think about it, and ask yourself why you are offended I didn’t come up to you?  Please.  It’s the ass, I know it.  The ass was making you crazy and you couldn’t think straight.

Okay, so now I know what to do for next time.  Next time, my camera will return.  Be prepared!  If you don’t want your picture taken, that’s cool, I will respect your wishes, but I can type WAY faster than I can take a picture, and I wake up way before all you lazy-lay-a-beds.

You have been warned.

So next time I will take pictures while the boring up north music is playing.  I will not wear a prom dress ever again and no more heels!  I will leave that to the two-steppers and the chair-dancers.

Leon, it was a good party.  Next time find someplace that will let you stay open to at least 230.  And tell the guys to bring deodorant and towels. 

All right, I’m done.


Speak your mind:

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s