Tuesday, July 5, 2011

The time travel

I don't consider myself a fighter, but I do consider myself a damn good friend, and when you mix haters with vodka, Sparkles likes to man-up for me and all my friends.

I was out with my homies, gettin' down on the dancefloor, New Jersey turnpikin' on all the fellas, and scopin' out my next victim. Normally my victims are of some variety of color, but for some awful reason, I decided to rub my goodies on a white boy.

There were no plans beyond giving him a dance-floor boner and wishing his blue balls good luck, but I figured we'd switch numbers as a just-in-case. It never hurts to add a number to your little black book, even if his "name" is "White dancer boy [insert club name here]."

As we enjoyed our last minutes of dancing, my homeboys were looking on, waiting for me, laughing at the fact that I was teasing this poor guy because obviously "once you go black....."
"What the fuck you laughing at n!*%#@$ ?!"
Within an instant I was pushed to the side and my best friends glasses were shattered on the ground. We had traveled back into the 1960's and it was a full on black vs. white fight in the club, then in the middle of the street, and on towards my apartment, which was less than a half-mile away.

Every possible obscenity was being shouted by all the guys, and I think I even heard a "cracka" in there. *Seriously, though- What a hilarious "racial slur." Does anyone actually take offense to that?* I did my best to act as the referee, representing both sides, and breaking them up. What's a couple shoves to the face as long as I save everyone?

I got my BFF away and told him to run to my apartment, and made sure my other boys went to make sure he was okay.
"If you want to fight him, you're going to need to fight me first."
For some reason, I still haven't learned that just because I have a vagina, doesn't mean he's not going to hit me. If a girl steps in a fight, she better be ready to take the beating.

BAM. He didn't hesitate for even a second to hit me in the face. Suddenly I was back in the 21st century.

Did that really just happen? Did this guy just hit me without me technically hitting him first?

I was thinking, but he wasn't. He was sprinting for what he thought was my apartment. I was still stunned and began to chuckle before I realized I needed to help in the diversion. As I ran around the back and he got confused on where my team had ran, they sneaked me in and threatened to go chasing after him with guns and knives.

How I was able to convince them to stay in the apartment and not go kill the psycho is beyond me, but it must have been love that saved the whole situation; the only kind of love I can get down with- the love of friends. Even as psycho non-stop texted me threats, they trusted me when I said "it's just another boy I hooked up with the other night wanting a booty call, but I'm staying here with you guys."

Note to self: Realize it doesn't always end this way. You are one lucky bitch.

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