Writing My Wrongs

Here I am again on a Friday afternoon at 1:20...J told me I to leave now or hang out if I want... If I leave, what will I do? *huge sigh*

I could catch up on sleep from Wednesday night. I hung out with ol' B a little on Wednesday going to a bogus music session that ended up being WHACK...main reason being that it was set for a 7:00 performance time and we waited until 9:15 before we said eff this place and left. He still hadn't come on the "stage" by 9:15...da eff is that about? I got home and was about to wash my hair when I thought of my bestfriend in town from Oakland, NoCal
(I've renamed California...we now have 52 states...NoCal and SoCal...NoCal of course being the best of both!)
Either way, I called him...took him forever to call me back...in the interim I took a shower and washed my hair. He calls to say he is on his way up to the apt. Now I am thinking...well damn...it's 11 at night...da hell he coming over here for...does not occur to me that he is looking for some ass in Harlem. After all, this is my boy 50 grand...through and through and back again.

D-dubya has been my bestfriend since the day I met him...rather the night I met him.

*wavy lines go across your screen as we step back in time...like a dream scene from a tv show*

The year: 2000
The Place: Oa.ktree night club on Em.abarcadero in the Jac.k L.on.don section of Oa.kland (the artsy affluent young part of Oakland...nothing but lofts and high priced "apartment condos", where I lived)...music has stopped and people are milling around because it's time to close shop and roll out to the after-hours spot or to grab something to eat at the late night chinese diner down the street in chinatown.

I'm standing on the wall looking mad in my fly ass outfit that I mentioned in this story. I looked so lean...so clean...and at 3 in da morning...so mean! Where the hell are the chicks that I came with!!...knowing Crooked-letter, she's probably in the back alley of the club effing some new dick she just met. The other three are probably wandering around the club hoping someone will be drunk enough to ask for their number.

Sidenote: The girls I hang with in CA are beautiful...after all, it's cali....but IF I WAS A DUDE I wouldn't talk to nary a one of them broads...stuck up biotches that they are...yea, I use to hang with the bougie chicks...and no...I ain't one...eff what you heard!

back to story....*wavy lines again*

So I am standing on the wall looking all 'licious and shit.
Standing with my hand on my hip and my right leg extended a little with a smirk on my face (yea, I'm mad that I have to wait for these itches to get my grub on...but frowning causes wrinkles...so I smirk. Smirking gives the impression that I am mildly amused at something (usually when I've noticed something stupid)...and if I am looking at you directly, your gonna wonder if you should or shouldn't come over but I got your attention none-the-less. If I give you my full-on smile that means your ass better be taking that que and walking towards me with the job of dazzling me.

So smirk, RIGHT outfit and my deep brown long hair is shining...yet...I'm vexed 'cause I'm the one with my own car...(that's how I do in Cal, I come when I want and leave when I want)...vex'd because I can leave...damn, then why am I holding this dmn wall up *mind you, I am saying this shit in my head* lol

I look down and to my left...(head now down because I done made eye contact with too many damn nasty muthafuckas...I avoid eye contact), to my right is a group of guys all dressed GQ Esq. I love a man that can effortlessly put together an outfit that is expensive (noticed by a decerning eye) but not ostentatious to where your intimidated. After all, what woman wants to be with a man whose outfit gets more notice than she does... Well, I am standing next to 5 men. They are talking in a circle...laughing and discussing where they were headed next.

All I see are legs....and shoes.

My fetish.........shoes.
Men shoes, kid shoes, women shoes, shoot...maybe even horseshoes....but shoes on a well dressed man...damn, my coochie just twitched. I ain't talkin' any ol' shoe.... a nice...designer or not...coordinating, non-wore out, well taken care of shoe can make me give you a number when I originally might not have.
5 men...10 legs...shoes.....*huge sigh*
I was so engrossed on my observation of who's shoe looked the best, which color I liked, which shoe had the best shine and least amount of wear....and yes, who's shoe was the biggest........
that I didn't notice that one lone foot had slid itself into the middle of this circle of men...as if to say

"look at me"

I stared at the shoe with a full on dreamy smile and sorta shook my head....ever so slowly I lifted my head and looked at the man who was attacehd to that foot that had on that shoe.........

DAMN!
.....the whole group was looking at me....and ALL OF THEM were fine as fuck (can fuck be fine or is fuck just good?) Reminicent of the pic, 2 post below...but these were men standing in a half circle...a couple with heads tilted to the side, one with arms crossed over his chest in a moc B-boy stance...but the one that belong to that foot inside of that shoe...he looked me dead on and smiled at me as if to say...caught ya staring! All I could do was bust out laughing... so what! I ain't too cute to laugh at myself...

They asked me which shoes was the nicest...asked me who had the best outfit...just plain ol' teasin' me for checking out their gear so intently...eff 'em! lol

D-dubya came over and we talked and exchanged numbers....

We talked on the phone and made a "date" for a month later, to go to the Sau.salito Art Festival in Marin County....ever since then...he has been my bestfriend. When I say that.....I am speaking of B.E.S.T.F.R.I.E.N.D. in the truest sense. We've gone 6 years of new jobs, new residence, new/old boy/girlfriends, maturing, laughing, talking, and manyother things. If you didn't think he was my brother...you'd think he was my man...we were close.

SO when he called me on Wednesday...at 11 pm...I said come on over. When he showed up at 12AM...I was dressed and met him at the train when he got off the A...and when he said, where's a place to get a drink and talk..........I ended up taking him 2 blocks over to St. Ni.cks Pub. It was not a problem..anything for my bestfriend. After all, I haven't seen him in a year.

We laughed, got tipsy...listened to a faux Etta James and reminiced...back and forth about "Remember When's"...

We got in at 2:30... I got up at 5:30, dressed for work as he slept with his face towards the fan, half under the sheet looking like a kid that sleeps hard... and then we took the train downtown...him to the Mil.lenium Hotel...and me to Park Ave to the daily grind.

He makes me miss Oa.kland. Dinner at his house, falling asleep on his damn black leather couch...waking up in the middle of the night stuck in place from said black leather couch...LOL Festivals, more 1st Friday's events than I care to remember, drunk nights on the kitchen floor talking shit, him making me breakfast on Sunday mornigs before church, waking along La.ke M.erritt in the rain, trips to LA and Riverside...

Yea, I miss my bestfriend.
He's "shopping" for a girlfriend that will hopefully turn into his wife one day. Whoever that chick is better realize she got herself a M.A.N. 'Cause if she fuck around...me and his momma will beat that chick down and I'll have to show her my famous drop-kick to the throat area...lol 'Cause, D-dubya ain't the type of man you fuck wit...he's the type of man you git with....(that's some of that ol' ghetto advice you give to your girl before she have the chance to fuck shit up with a cool dude...lol)