So here's what happened. The end result to this entire fucked up weekend is the picture to your left, now let me explain. Somewhere along the line I decided I was going to get stupid drunk all week, which I did. Then Saturday night happened. I'm at this party which was gay, so I come home, change, and hit the Annex for another birthday party. I don't know how to behave in the presence of alcohol and I'm pretty childish. See the club was alright, some old school hip hop, a good vibe minus the fucking crowd and the shitty cover, everything was cool. As always I enter the club already drunk and I head straight for the bartender, who I convince to make all my doubles into triples (I try this everywhere I go)
A nigga drinking his screwdrivers, triple vodkas in that shit and just chilling. Then it sorta all went downhill. For whatever reason the club went from playing Pharaohe Monch (which no one but me and my boys knew) to Hollerback Girl by Gwen Stefani. Now I'm mad, I fucking hate college kids and all of a sudden it hits me. I'm at a college place, with college kids, who are wilding out on the dance floor. Nah something has to happen, all these motherfuckers are acting a fool. I start throwing shit at people on the dance floor, mints, really anything I could find. Then I had enough of these white people so I tell my boys it's time to bounce. But before I go for whatever reason I got into it with a white girl. I forget why to be honest but one thing leads to another and as she's walking down the stairs my foot SLIPS and kicks her in her ass. At the time I had a valid reason as to why my foot slipped I just can't remember it now. She dare not turn around either shorty didn't fall or anything she just kept going (none of this is my fault, as I said my foot slip)
Long story short I end up at the Green Room, MUCH better spot. Homeboy is lighting his spliff at the table with the tea-light and we're high as fuck drinking with a really anti-social crowd. The type of crowd where everyone of those motherfuckers are the type to shoot up a high school. Anyway I made it home around 4:30am on Sunday morning. That's when it all gets fuzzy. I don't remember shit but talking shit on twitter then going to bed. But yet I wake up to the text message you see above. What could I have told shorty for her to sound THAT dejected? Why the fuck is she even apologizing and assuming guilt for, as far as I know she did nothing wrong. Now, a rule I live by is to never look back at the drunk messages I send but clearly I must have cussed her off or something pretty bad. Probably blamed her for all my worries and blamed her for not curing cancer or something who knows I was drunk but how does one respond to a text like that? I was thinking about it all day, then I just decided to plead stupid: "Oh it's okay" LMAOOOOOOOO I ain't shit y'all. I'm out.
Peace.
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