In My Write Mind
Diggs. My funny Valentine asked about bad dates from the past, and would I be any kinda Valentine if I didn't share one of mine? I thought not. So here goes. Something I like to call...
*cue Psycho music*
Met this girl at a club, which is rare since I hardly ever approach women. But she was as fine as she wanna be. I mean gorgeous. We exchanged numbers that night, spoke on the phone for hours at a time. Even met up for drinks a couple of times after work. After a few weeks, she invited me over. I was set for some intellectual conversation, some food and maybe an ABC afterschool special (you believe me, right?...hehehe). She lived on the 5th floor of a five floor walk-up in the Bronx. My lungs were on fire by the final step. But she was so fine, and I was so excited that she invited me over, I must've run up the steps.
(Remember that. Five flights. Running. LOL)
Anyway, so I get over there...and without the cameras, lights, Joe Rogan and kraft food service...it was like an episode of FEAR FACTOR. One of my biggest fears, after Wendy Williams and Nick Ashford, of course, is cockroaches. That, to me, is the ultimate symbol of uncleanliness. Her place...*gag* was where roaches went to vacation, to regroup after near-death experiences...where they held their union meetings.
This shit was CLUB ROACH!!!!
I mean, climbing the walls, smoking blunts (with roach clips, of course...lol), watching TV (ironically, A Bug's Life DVD was on), playing games on the 'puter, practicing formations for the halftime show...Coulda sworn they were spelling out GET HIM! I was in shock. My eyes bugged out (no pun intended) like a character from a Tom & Jerry cartoon. I stood there frozen, motionless like a ninja roach (see McFadden, Reggie, Def Comedy Jam), hoping that I could slip away if they thought I was one of their own. I had to be careful. Sure I could've crushed a few of them, but then what? Risk an ambush? Hellus nous. I had to be tactical. I had to be smart. Hell, I had to be crazy if I thought I could reason with roaches!!! I looked over, and a roach dressed like a maitre' d had the nerve to be directing me to the dinner table! I remember gasping and thinking to myself, Ah Helll No! There's no WAY I'm sticking around for no Roach Beef!!!
So I did what anyone stuck in my position would. Uh, no..I didn't pee my pants. I MADE A RUN FOR IT!!! Ran outta there as if my pants were around my ankles and a jealous husband was chasing me with a shotty. Jumping down flights at a time. Running.for.my.life. I can't believe that girl had the nerve to invite me over there.
Is there no shame left in the world?
I got home and took my clothes off at the door. Made sure them critters didn't hop on me like I was an airplane and they bought a ticket to ride in "roach." Was doing the Harlem Shake...and I lived in BK!
That experience makes me believe that the only thing I should pick up from now on at a bar...is a drink. And as I get to know a young lady over the phone from now on, I will add the following question to my "getting to know you" rotation: *Ahem* Do you live alone? Please be specific. I mean, I have to ask that because while I know it's true that you can't judge a book by its cover, you can damn sure judge a pretty young lady by the "company" she keeps. Yeesh.
scribbled by Will at 2/27/2005 07:46:00 PM
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I write entirely to find out what I'm thinking, what I'm looking at, what I see and what it means. What I want and what I fear. (Joan Didion)
The Write One
Will. Lefty. Since Summer 1971. Over the next six months, I'll be saying some hellos, some goodbyes. Living, laughing, growing. Don't.miss.a.word.
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