UPDATE: this is a throwback post, only to entertain in the downtime. and since i wrote this, i broke my rule on 7.18.09, when i went to station 9 and was leaning so hard that a clever girl with a great eye for a drunk guy got me. oh well. she was just at the right place at the right time. at least she was kinda cool.
i enjoyed my first weekend as (somewhat of) a college graduate recently, and i won’t lie – it’s more powerful than the typical college dorm get together. not to say that it’s better or anything; the two environments have completely different dynamics. at the college house party, you can have some b-ball shorts and one of these russian hats on and do better work than the guy who went to barney’s co-op and bought a whole outfit as long as you are smooth and keep people entertained. this “going out” stuff however, things aren’t as casual. you have to come presentable! if you’ll check the picture above, i’m the underdressed chump in the middle. if i didn’t have my man melvin (he’s in the all black. no games. promotes hard. let’s get it.) get me in for the freeskee, i’d be outside assed out with the promoters that hand out the flyers. pay close attention to the picture. i will refer to it again shortly.
friday i went to this afro beat event hosted by the lovely ladies behind lunch box theory (pics are here so you can get a nice visual…i think i’m in one.) and it was marvelous. i’m talking more east african nubian princesses than east africa itself. a very diverse crowd of people who came to have a good time and enjoy the eclectic sounds of DJ undadog and his african drummers rather than to stunt like the typical club/lounge situation. i think it was the best party i’ve been to in a while, and i thank everybody involved for that epic night.
saturday was also powerful in its own way. the picture you see above, with all smiles, is from an outing at a spot called republic. more for OG’s, me and my man spencer (checkered shirt, left-hand side. @drspaceman for you twitter fiends) somehow finagled our way in there without paying that $20 hit to the wallet. the hardest part about going out is the money for the alcohol. now, melvin and my homie daniel (aka @yebies for you twitter fiends) hooked us up with the majority of our drinks, but i did make it to the bar once to purchase my own concoction for me and spence. as i was ordering my drink, i heard some chit chatter to my left. as i turn, i discover it is the young woman pictured above. she’s talking about “…why don’t you add a jack and coke to that tab…” and tries to smile at me.
WHAT!?
chamillionaire once taught me, “if a skeezer, wants me to feed her, with my visa, then i’ma leave her.” now, she wasn’t a skeezer. that just sounds so god-awful. but how come when i was posted up like a stamp earlier she weren’t talkin about anything!? only when i hit the bar was she trying to milk me like a cow’s teats for some free drank. no way, josé. i don’t get it. i didn’t say anything crazy. instead, i pretended i didn’t hear what she said. “what was that?” she smirked and gave me one of those “nevermind” looks, visibly agitated. a few minutes later, she hopped in this picture with us.
what was my point behind writing this? that i will never ever purchase a drink for anybody i don’t know. it’s not my place. i know i’ll feel like if i buy them a drink, i deserve something in return. who knows what, and who knows why i feel like that. it’s only right if you purchase something, you get a product! conversation shouldn’t be purchased, should it!? but i know people who feel like buying drinks ain’t $#!t. that’s just how they get the night started. to each their own.
i want to know how guys and gals feel about drinks at the bar. hit the comment section and let me know.
