I can't remember the name of this club in Chicago. But I remember meeting him. The club had let out and of course drunk and hot girls had spilled out of the club, either cuffed up or throwing up. I was neither, but I was quite nice. Here comes dude in his Mercedes truck....rims...spinning. No wait, one wasn't spinning. My home girl ran up and was like, "Wait! One aint moving and reached down to turn the clip on spinners he had." I should have known better.
As we cackled he got out the car and he was....ok. Swagged up. He could work. Clip on spinners and all. So we exchange information. He calls me up the next day and unleashes a tirade of insults on my friend. She's so "stuck up", she's "boogey", she thinks she's "the sh!t". I should have known better.
But I don't and he offers to pick me up and "hang out" for "movie night" the next day. Yep, I should have known better.
He drives to get me (Mind you at the time I was living in the suburbs so I lived roughly 20-30 minutes north of his place. On the way back into the city, I have to listen to 30 minutes of how "he's getting paid." You know making the ends meet and then gluing them together. *Rolls eyes*
I'm expecting him to pull up to a condo on Lake Shore Drive. But no, he pulls up to a studio in the Lincoln Park area. Okay, let's not judge here. But I'm saying, if the ends are meeting and you're balling out of control...a studio in the Lincoln Park area probably isn't the way to prove this. At any rate, we get up stairs and he proceeds to get drinks out the fridge, set up the movie, you know get things ready for "movie night." Now, I hate to come to someone's house for the first time and have nowhere to sit but the bed. Sooooo awkward. But this is the only place to sit. So I sit.
Not for long. He sets the drinks down and attacks me like a bear to honey. I push him and say, "What are you doing!!" (It was much more explicit than that). He looks at me as if I'm speaking Russian and attempts to attack me again. I'm like dude....umm...get the hell off of me. At that moment, the slight cringe of fear crept in, like this fool is crazy, I'm about to be attacked and I'm probably going to be on the news.
He looks and me and says, "Whut"? In that dumb, I'm slow, didn't finish high school, I only speak in one word syllables voice. So I reply that I don't know him from Adam's house cat and that attacking me probably is not going to lead to any "great" outcome. That did it.
He unleashed a garbage bag full of insults...."You f*&kin boogey b!t*h. You're just like your friend, yall think yall are the sh!t, walking around like yall can't chill sometimes, get off that." Yeaaaahhh, ummm I'm a need you to take me home. That didn't go over well either...."B!tch I just picked you all the way up from your crib and now you wanna go home." He got up and grabbed his keys and mumbled off more insults and then, "Let's f&*kin go..." But he went in front of me and damn near slammed the door before I could get out. He pressed the elevator door but I guess it wasn't coming fast enough. He walks towards the stairs as I'm still standing by the elevator with the stunned face and proceeds to tell me, "Let's....f*&kin....go."
Okay, I know what you're thinking. At this point, I should be calling my brothers, friends or uncles to come whip his ass and then get a ride home. Or maybe I should call a cab. One, this didn't cross my mind yet. (Notice the yet) Two, this is Chicago I can't just go and hail a yellow cab. Public transportation? Nope, train is too far to walk to and the buses run like turtles in the desert.
So I go behind him and I'm click clacking down the stairs in my heels and I hear, "Hurry the f*&k up..." This has now become unreal. We get in the parking garage and I get in the car and he's still pissed. The garage was adjacent to the alley and he pulls into the alley. Finally, I snap out of my stupor and read his ass.
"Are you crazy? I came to your wack ass cracker jack box and you're trying to hump me. I don't even know you! You riding around in this Benz with some clip-on spinners, wack ass system thinking you gone bag some (insert explicit word for vagina here). This aint that. Now pull out and take me home." (This was filled with much more curses and explicit insults....but you get the message.)
Next thing I know...."Get the f*&k out," and I respond, "Gladly." He speeds off.
I'm standing in the alley. With my heels. And my purse...and no clue what I'm about to do.
I call the homegirls...they can't hear me because where are they? In the club. "Come meet us at the club girl!!" FML.
I had to call one of my big brothers to come and get me...here I am standing on the corner as he pulls up shaking his head....
He says, "Baby girl....you gone end up with someone real normal...Bright lights and spinners just aint for you...." 363.
lololol BEEN THERE!
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