What an event-filled weekend! Too bad all of my weekends cannot be so enjoyable.
After work Friday, I hurried right home so I could begin getting ready for SF’s going away dinner at Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse. We said we were going to get all gussied up in our Sunday best to look like we were lavish ladies of luxury who always eat at top quality restaurants for the hell of it. I felt like doing my hair, which is a first because if I can’t throw on a wig or walk in with my nappy roots hanging out, I’m not usually interested. I took the time the night before to straighten it, which I hate doing but I do admit that it looks nice and then Friday afternoon I curled it to give it some life.
It was a good thing I know who I’m working with. Our reservations were for 730, but I told them to be ready by 615, knowing that none of them would be on time. As soon as I got to Maq’s house, she wanted an assessment of several dresses, then her hair and makeup. We didn’t even leave her house until 600 and we were supposed to be at SF’s in 15 minutes. Halfway driving to her house, Maq says, “Did I leave my curling iron on?” Uhm, well, if you did, we’re not going back!
We’re driving to SF’s and discover that she is not even home yet. As usual, I’m not stressing too bad, because I padded everything by an hour and fifteen minutes just cuz I know she ain’t never on time to anything. Then we had to wait for Alex, SF’s cousin because she was coming from way down deep by DC somewhere. Eventually we all arrived and then we had a mini clothing crisis, which thankfully was averted in no time.
I made a grievous error by mixing up the restaurants. How as I to know that there are two Ruth’s Chris Steakhouses right across from each other in the Baltimore Harbour? I guess I could have read the website better when making the reservations, but still, you don’t think it will be like McDonald’s with one on every corner. I did read the website to make sure that I wasn’t making reservations for the one down in National Harbour, as opposed to the Baltimore Harbour, but I guess I didn’t look any further to see that there was one two feet away. So we arrived at the wrong location. Ugh. I hate making silly mistakes like that. Thankfully, the hostess at the wrong location was able to call the correct location and tell them that we were on our way so they wouldn’t give our reservation away.
I’m glad we got a chance to sit down together one last time. SF and I used to do Sunday dinners at her house during the winter. Alex would come over sometimes and we’d just sit there, eat a whole bunch of food and goof off. SF and I did movie marathons where we’d bring out a whole bunch of movies and watch all of them back to back to back. As much others seem to dislike her, I am going to miss that chick. Although I don’t agree with her going off to Germany, and not for my own selfish reasons, I wish her all the best. She was an interesting person to hang around with. Some people do not understand our bizarre friendship, where we don’t really have a whole lot in common, but we’re two people totally capable of being in each other’s company, disagreeing with each other all the time but yet still maintaining a friendship.
She is a person who doesn’t spend half her life angry or upset at some perceived injustice. She has her head in the clouds on what she thinks life is supposed to be like, but don’t we all? We all have some kind of dream of what we think things should be like. Sometimes those dreams are fulfilled and most of the time we’re sadly brought back to reality. She just hasn’t reached that point yet. You can’t really tell a person how to live and what to expect because everyone’s experiences are different. I think that’s the problem between her and other people she encounters. For those of us who are old and are already well-acquainted with the realities of life, we take grave exception to some youthful exuberant who wants to hold the world in her hand. People are nasty like that, I’ve discovered. Sure, I think she’s incredibly silly but she’s not spending my money, she’s not ruining my life. Nothing she does affects me in any way. For the most part, I don’t really care what she does. I worry about her being foolhardy but if she doesn’t want to listen, she doesn’t want to listen and there’s nothing I can do about that. Whatever happens to her, is whatever happens to her.
For all the people who dislike her, are irritated by her, can’t talk to her, whatever, I don’t understand their strong reactions. But I think that’s the problem with this whole wide world, and not just the whole SF situation. How many of us get so passionate about everything that we believe in: pro or anti-abortion; pro or anti-gay marriage; this whole immigration thing; to breastfeed your newborn or not. However you feel about something, you feel so strongly that you want everybody to think like you do and if they don’t, your mind is incapable of understanding why someone just doesn’t believe the way you do. And if they don’t think like you do, you don’t like them. You’re incapable of liking them because you feel uncomfortable with someone who is different. SF is no exception. For how ever many number of times she’s late, for all the days she sulks when she doesn’t get her way, for whatever her reputation is perceived to be, and all the money she spends going to quack doctors, none of those things applies to me and I still love her just the same.
I prefer to enjoy a person’s positive qualities. I’m friends with certain people because of the way they make me feel or the way they enlighten my life. There’s no such thing as the perfect friend, with all the right qualities. I also believe that God puts people together for reasons unknown to us at first. As time goes on, those reasons come to light and then you realise, no matter how quirky or bizarre your friendship is, it was meant to be and that is always a comforting thought.
We ended up racking up a bill worth $250.00 with custom steaks, drinks and appetisers. We were having a great time, pretending to be the black version of Sex in the City until Meet the Browns showed up. Seriously, at the end of our meal, we were finishing off the wine and dessert and we had decided to sit in the restaurant for a little while longer, chatting and having a good time. Before we could even do that, this ghetto ass hood couple showed up. They were older. The man looked like a retired pimp with these cheesy white glasses and a mouth full of gold teeth. He reminded me of my natural father who assumed that just because he pressed his jean shorts and put on a pair of fresh white sneakers that he was somehow attractive and “dressed up.” The woman had a busted weave and she also looked like she was playing with less than a full desk. The man apparently could not read well because he had to get up from the table to read the menu under the street lamp that glowed through the window. Then he read the menu OUT LOUD disturbing the other patrons in the restaurant.
They were making so much noise it became intolerable and none of us wanted to stay. We were waiting to settle the bill when the man came over to our table to ask what he should order. *eye roll* Obviously the prices were too much for him but he didn’t want to look bad in front of his date. There was a dinner for two on the menu, the porterhouse which is a gigantic slab of meat. He asked if he should get that for him and his date and I said, “What if she doesn’t want the porterhouse? It’s very big and quite tough. She might want something lighter.” Then he said something about getting the porterhouse because it was a little bit cheaper than ordering two separate dinners. He was talking to me and I was like… oh my god, please go away! He had this loud brash voice and I just didn’t want him to be associated with us. Finally, he went away but he ruined our buzz and we had to leave.
We went back to SF’s house and talked about everything under the moon until almost 2AM. I didn’t get home until after 3, then I was so disoriented and sleepy that somehow I lost my camera. I found it the next day in the refrigerator, because that’s where I usually keep all my electronics.
Saturday, Maq and I went furniture shopping. She said she is tired of the furniture she has, and I’m also tired of the furniture I have so it just seemed like the thing to do. We drove up to Baltimore to go to this discount store she knew of. The furniture was decent but the “discount” didn’t seem so discount to me. The prices were outrageous and then if you wanted to buy something on credit the interest rate was out of control. We left out of there and went into some cheap ass accessory store and bought $10.00 worth of accessories. And, yeah, okay, $10.00 doesn’t seem like a lot when you think of buying accessories at like Claire’s or the Forever 21 Accessory store. Ten dollars worth of accessories will you get eight rings, 17 pairs of earrings, three bracelets and two necklaces. If you add another thirty-eight cents, you might be able to get some kind of hair ornament. All of that shit will turn your neck green but you’ll look good for a few days.
After leaving the accessories store we went to Patapsco Flea Market. So neither one of us knew that it was as big as it was. The first time I went there with Tyrone a few years ago, we only did the outdoor market part and then walked around in the first few rooms. I didn’t know there was a food court and all kinds of other shit going on in the background. We walked around for hours, getting lost in the catacomb of rooms with vendors selling the cheapest shit known to man. Maq wanted shea butter and I was looking for chocolate incense. I didn’t find my incense but she got her shea butter and I also bought some hood books for my sister–excuse me, black urban literature. Whatever. She likes those books and can’t get them in Arizona. I was going to buy her some cheap ass sandals but I wanted to get something from the food court first. My tummy over my sister’s feet, sorry.
It was so hot that I didn’t want to do anything else. I had thought about going to Zapp Brannigan’s fight party, but I wasn’t able to lay down and have a good nap thanks to my neighbours holding a circus above my head. I’m so glad I’m moving out. She didn’t even let me know that she was going to be showing the place to someone, so as soon as I laid down to have a nap she’s like, “Yeah, someone is coming over at 5PM.” I look at the clock and it’s 457. What!?!? Yeah, it’s time to go. Sometimes you just wear out your welcome.
I decided not to go out after all, and ended up getting up in the middle of the night to finish Lawrence of Arabia. That shit was 4 hours long, very good, but long as shit. I’m on this classic movie thing right now, where I’m watching all the classic movie Oscar winners from back in the day, expanding my horizons or whatever.
Sunday I woke up to go horseback riding. Yes, horseback riding because that’s just something you get up to do on a daily basis. I missed the last horseback riding adventure, so I was excited about this one. Only until I was rudely awakened at 6AM by the herd of elephants living upstairs. I was still tired from the night before and I didn’t want to go out, but Faye doesn’t like it when people RSVP and then cancel at the last minute. I forced myself to get out of bed.
We went riding at the Woodland Horse Center in Silver Spring. Although it was hot and humid, I had a great time after I got over my sudden irrational fear of horses. You know, I have no idea what that was all about. My favourite types of movies and books are all historical jaunts with lots of people riding horses because it was their only mode of transportation. Riding a horse looks easy because everybody used to do it back then. In movies it always looks like fun and that is why I always wanted to learn to ride. I have seen horses up close, I know how big they are, but for some reason, when we were taking the tour of the place I was really, really up close to the horses and I was like, oh I don’t think so. I changed my mind. I didn’t want to chicken out because everyone else was obviously having a good time, but I got a weird sense of fear. I have no idea what that was all about.
Because I didn’t want to look like an asshole, I did end up going through with the whole thing and had a great time. I was just afraid of falling because the ground is a long way down from the back of a big ass horse. I would have looked even more ridiculous because most of the students were children. Not teenagers, but children. My instructor was about 9. She said she’d been riding since she was three. If a three year old can get on a horse, so can I!
After leaving the Horse Center, I thought about going up into Baltimore to play spades with some friends, but I changed my mind. Too long of a drive and too late in the evening. Instead I grilled some kabobs and sat out on the back steps until it started to get cool. SF came over around 9PM and we sat around talking until we both decided we were about to fall asleep.
And that was my weekend.