My life is always so random. Everyday it is something new, and it’s like I can never be normal. I really wouldn’t want to be normal, but the drama that confounds my life is sometimes just too ridiculous to be believed.
We’ll begin with Friday night.
As usual, I get all dressed up to go out to freak night at Ascension. I may not be losing huge amounts of weight but my body is starting to look kind of good. I just had to throw that in there, but it doesn’t really have anything to do with anything.
Anyway… normally on paydays, I withdraw XXX amount of money and that is my spending money for the next two weeks. I usually do this right after work but I got distracted and wound up having to do it before going to the club. So it’s like 1030 at night outside the Wachovia around the corner from my house. When I drive up to the ATM, there is a lady there, withdrawing money. Two black guys in a shiny ass Lexus. One guy was writing something, look like he was about to do a deposit. They had their light on, which is how I could see this. As usual, I always do a scope of the scenery before I get out of my car. I don’t want to get robbed at an ATM.
Judging that the place is clear, I get out and go to the ATM. There are two. Black guy from the Lexus gets out. Woman walks away from her ATM. Black guy walks forward, but he doesn’t go to the ATM. He stands off to the side. This makes me nervous. I am in the middle of my transaction. While I’m standing there, I always look around, make sure no one is creeping up on me. I notice black guy is moving closer and closer to me, not to the vacant ATM. Now, I’m really nervous.
A long time ago, I took some mace from work. Oh well. I had it in my pocket and I carry it around on club nights. I sometimes carry a knife, but it just depends. Friday, I had mace. So I dig into my pocket to get it because black guy is making me mad nervous. Waiting for the debit card to come out the machine. I didn’t want to leave it because it was still activated. That’s just me getting robbed of my brand new paycheck. No thanks.
Black guy gets closer and closer and closer. Right now my heart is about to pop out my chest. I was like, “Oh my God, I’m getting robbed. I’m getting robbed. I’m getting robbed.” Then the jackass says, “Excuse me, miss,” in this really loud voice. He scared the SHIT out of me. I swear to you, I almost pissed myself. So, what did I do? I get the mace out and maced the shit out of him.
In typical me-fashion, I closed my eyes, started screaming and just sprayed and sprayed and sprayed and sprayed my life away. I don’t even know if I got him in the face, I was just spraying. Then I threw the thing at him and ran away back towards my car. I was so nervous and high strung that I couldn’t get my keys right and instead of opening the doors, I opened the trunk. You know, dumb shit. Meanwhile, the guy is screaming, “GODDAMN IT. GODDAMN IT…. DAMN IT…DAMN IT… DAMN IT.” I thought he was chasing me, but when I turned around, he wasn’t. I’m still trying to get in the car, and you know what this guy says, “DAMN IT, I was just trying to tell you that you’re fine. Damn it.”
Uhm, news flash. An ATM late at night is not the time nor the place to try to holla at a girl. This is what happens when you don’t take every care. I swear I thought he was trying to rob me. He didn’t go to his ATM. He was just standing there and he was creeping up on me. So he got maced. He is so lucky I left the knife piece at home, because he would have been straight stabbed up.
Ask anybody, I am first dramatic, then paranoid, then hysterical. I will cut you and run away screaming and crying. I did get into my car and I just drove off, almost wrecked the damn car trying to get into traffick. Damn trunk is up. I had to stop to put it down because I couldn’t see out the back window. I mean, really. Why would you do that? Why?
Like a moron, instead of going home, I was on auto-pilot and I went to the club. I managed to have a good time, but I was thinking about that the whole time. Why would he do that? That’s not smart. In this day and age, 2009, white people are getting killed out there at an alarming rate and you want to sneak up on somebody to tell them they are fine… late at night at an ATM where people frequently get mugged. What is wrong with you!
The good thing about the whole night is that I got to see my attractive little pseudo-Jewish guy. I think he got kicked out though. I saw Kele De go up to him and escort him out and after that I didn’t see him no more. But I did get to see nasty drug looking girl and pissy boyfriend suck each other’s faces, because I needed that in my life.
I didn’t stay out very late because my nerves were all worked up. I think I left a little after 12.
And you would think that the rest of my weekend passed uneventfully. Oh, I wish it were true. So Saturday Ceciley and I decided to go to Annapolis mall for some shopping and a calorie fest.
But before that, I wake up to a text message from Trysh talking about, “What would you tell me to do if my friend abandoned her newborn baby and all of its clothes in my car?” So, I really thought this was a real scenario, so I typing up all this advice. Turns out, it was just a dream. Thanks, Trysh, because I need that in my life.
All right, get dressed to go to the mall. Ceciley and I are going to meet each other there. You know how that exit is right before you get to the mall, it’s always a cluster. I’m in that long ass line waiting to get off the ramp and what happens… some jackass rear ends me.
I am in the car, singing my life away to the Cranberries… “Zombie… Zombie… Zombie …. oh… oh… ” BOOM! My head just smashed into the headrest so hard I thought the shit was going to pop off. I didn’t even know what happened. I was like… Hmm, did a bomb go off? Okay, I realised I had been hit.
It took me like 30 seconds to remember that I was on earth and get out of the car. The guy was real nice, some preacher or whatever and he was all apologetic. “It’s my fault, I’m so sorry, I was looking behind me.” Luckily, my piece of shit Hyundai is made of much sturdier stuff because all I had was a smidgely little dent and some missing paint. His Honda, on the other hand, did not fare so well. His bumper was all up in the street.
I took his information anyway. Apparently, I must have been okay because I managed to shop my life away right after. I did have an excruciating headache, but a calorie gorge fixes everything.
Saturday night, I go to freak night at Midnight, and you know I had a very mixed time. DJd Phae, DuJour and a guest from UK. Now, you know I do not care for DJ Phae, but I must give credit where credit is due because she really had me on the dance floor most of the night. Just to let you three DJs know, I burned 700 calories in the club. I know because my BB told me so.
At any rate, let’s talk about how it was amateur belly dancer night. For some reason the Sensual BellyDancers were out in full effect, jiggling waistlines and big flat feet galore. Ladies, if your shoes hurt your feet, don’t wear them. It is so classless to go barefoot in public. If you’re at the beach or pool or something, yeah, sure, a bar… not so much. And then one of them smelled really bad.
I almost didn’t have a good time because I almost left because of the group of yuplings that showed up. In case you didn’t know, yuplings are young frat boys in training to become full grown yuppies. They were all wearing ratty jeans, Vans sneakers and had Blackberrys and cellphones. IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DANCEFLOOR, they were all texting each other. Gay. Go away. Drunk off Heineken, there wasn’t a rhythmic movement in the whole lot of them and they were just standing in the middle making asses of themselves. The minority of the group, because there is always one who thinks he can fit in with the white bread, and trust me, I know all about this, tried to dance with me. Get away from me before you get maced just like the other one. Only I don’t have the mace anymore because I threw it. But I do have a knife and I will cut you first and ask questions later.
With them standing like a gaggle of drunken Kappa Sigmas, there was hardly any room to dance. Just when they decided to leave, who shows up? The United Delegation of Gay Top Hat Wearers.
What the fuck? Did Spellbound have a two for one sale? Like four guys showed up in Edwardian style tophats and greatcoats. Yeah, I know all about the Victorian goth, but we don’t really need to dress like we’re about to solve the Caper of the Missing Monocle. Then the harlot that was trailing after them like a camp follower, the one in the poofy skirt. Sure, she was very pretty. Yes, we know and I’m glad for you, but stop acting like some stank bitch and if you hit me one more time with your crinoline, I’m going to rip it out and choke you with it. She hit me like six times with her skirt. If you’re going to wear something like that, be aware that your girth is now three times larger than what you’re normally used to. Crap.
The bellydancers, the frat guys, the top hat freaks and the Gothic Teen Princess … it was all very overwhelming, but the music was soooo good. I stayed way later than I normally do. It was almost 230 before I forced myself to leave. I never stay that late. I’m usually gone by 115 at the very latest. Two-thirty, I’m already dead sleep.
Phae did well, for once. As usual, DuJour has a sense of the crowd. She doesn’t just play whatever she feels like hearing. She is good at keeping the dance floor packed. Rex, or whatever his name was from UK, I did like him. He started off way too heavy for the crowd, though. I love a good ole stomp fest, but DC is not really like that, I’m noticing. He switched it and that was good, although I found it in the height of distaste to play a song that had already been played.
Das Ich – Destillat.
Not that great to be heard twice in one night.
So, you would think that the night ended peacefully. No, it doesn’t. I go to my car, get in it and drive up to the light at 16th and K. Some transient knocks on my window.
A homeless man knocks on my car window. Seriously. Of course, I do not roll down the windows. He’s like, “Babe… Baby! Honey… what time is it?”
I’m certainly not married to you so why are you calling me honey? I ignored him and I would have driven off but the light was red and there were a lot of cars coming. He continues to knock on my car window. And I’m like, what the fuck? I’m going to start carrying a gun because I cannot take this no more.
He’s like, “What time is it! Baby… just tell me what time it is.”
And wouldn’t you know I would be at the longest light in America, so I held up 3 fingers to show that it was like 3am. He’s like, “Thank you… thank you. You don’t have to be scared of me. I won’t do nothing to you. Obama is the president. I don’t have to rob no more.”
What the fuck?
I mean really. And since I have been making fun of white people throughout this post, I will now say something about black folk.
People… Obama is not Jesus. He is not your Saviour.
What the fuck does a black president have to do with you robbing people? I mean, really, everyone is making this huge deal that we have a black president and all this stuff and everything is going to be like fields of cotton candy. News flash, having a black president is not the solution since YOU are the problem.
I won’t even go that route.
So that was my weird ass weekend. Getting almost mugged, rear ended and harassed by a homeless man. Because I can never just have a casual day.