Monday, September 29, 2008

Back to Square One (Kinda)...

So working at Strip sucks absolutely! Management is disorganized and pompous and drugged up most of the time. Money is not what it should be which is a factor that's controlled by management- with a couple tweaks here and there, their employees could actually make some guap. But the well-being of their workers is of no consequence to management I suppose. So I made it to where I could get the fuck outta there- by any means necessary.

So that's the meaning of this post's title. Back to square one. On the social front though, things are moving. Everyone close enough to me knows that I want to write for a living, be it about music or clothes. As long as I've been out here in the A, this has got to be my busiest year on the social forefront.

I took Jarvis to his first Broke and Boujee last Thursday; I don't think he knew what he was getting himself into. It was fine for me, songs from the local squads and then something from the mainstream. Chicks rocking peacocks and buzzcuts with bra straps showing and kicks on their feets. Dudes with fitted jeans and flannel shirts. Jarvis sat at the bar the whole time looking like he was observing the llamas at the zoo. I danced by myself.

Before we went he asked about dress code, I told him to wear what he wanted, and that no one was gonna be looking at him that closely. "We ain't going to Velvet." My exact words. He had on cargo shorts and a Lacoste shirt with matching Adidas and his G-Shock. After we left I asked him if he understood what I meant: He laughed at my head scarf and cutoff shorts before we went in, after, he said nothing. I think he may have been a bit jilted to learn that there's a whole other world of people having absolute fun without caring about who's looking... Whatever.

On Saturday, Sheed and I were invited to go to a party at Utopia downtown, that our homie Rustin was throwing in honor of FAMU weekend. In an effort to conserve gas (and- oh yeah, ride in the brand new Beamer... LOL.), I rolled with Sheed but he and Chris had plans to go to T.I.'s Black Tie birthday party first, so I threw on the only dress in the closet (I desperately need to make a dry cleaners run), and headed out with them. The energy in the room at the Biltmore was so crazy. Everyone was so dapper and positive spirited, it was a cool change to the basic club atmosphere. Chris stopped once every five steps to dap somebody up. Radio personalities, athletes, Grand Hustle was out in full effect. Strippers danced in birdcages wearing white, curly beehive wigs and lacey undergarments with knee highs. Open bar of course. Cameras everywhere. I left the party like, "Really?" Now- to do something with all that...