Wednesday... And the Bullshit Continues...

The bullshit continues…

You know I try to be right, but I am sure the world is against my black ass. It aint right, I say it aint right. You know, I mean I give to charity, I patron the homeless, I make sure the crack head is heading in the right direction, I even talk to old people in Safeway; so why in the hell can I not get customer service when I need it.

Wednesday at work was fine. I mean I listened to my Miss Jones in the Morning and I went in with the previous day’s monkey on my back, but I knew I was gonna shake that bitch off because it was a new day and I was going to resolve problems not have more of them (so I thought). So I begin by calling Hertz and explaining that my car smells like it was part of a Native American Peace Pipe smoking contest, the lady tells me the only other car I can get is a (get ready) a Kia Rondo, I said ‘a who?’, I mean I don’t know Kia Rondo but I think that bitch’s sister works at a nail shop on Jefferson in Oak Cliff.

Now I will not drive a Kia Rondo, I mean I will valet a Prius at a Jay-Z party but I will not drive a Kia Rondo. I said,l simply, rather simply, Miss Irene can you find me a Ford Edge and call me back please. One down. One to go. So I called the Hilton and said “I am in a handicapped room with a wheelchair shower, and I reserved a concierge room.” After a bit of bantering, “Mr. Ward I will get you a room and you can switch this evening.” So I get back to my hotel at 7:30PM and the shit goes down. “Oh we gave your other room away”, you see this is where I go E-40 on a bitch. If you don’t know who E-40 is I am talking that, Sprinkle me shit…

Timah timah … Fortee Wida … Sprinkle me man…. Sprinkle me man…

Now if you do not know what that means ask the 3 black people you know, or email Flavor Flav, he so black he look like brake dust. (I can say that because I am dark, don’t go getting your ass kicked quoting me and trying to be fancy with a dark skinned drag queen, because a bitch will cut)

See there are moments when I catch feelings and I am ready to fight, this was one. But I held my cool with David as he tried to find me another room on the concierge level. “Mr. Ward I have you a room on the 5th floor, it is a junior suite blah blah blah…” before I knew it I snatched the keys and I was up in the room. Here’s the shit it is the same as my room on the 3rd floor, wheelchair locks and all. I just leaned up against the wall and thought, aint that a bitch. I go back down to David, explain to him that he should change my rate, and that I will be staying in the handi-room on level 3.

I sauntered away head hung low. One good thing came out of the calls, I got my Ford Edge.

I was actually really juiced for Wednesday night because it was Hip Hop Karaoke at the Knitting Factory. For those who do not know the Factory it is home to people like John Legend, Alicia Keyes, Natasha Bedengfield, etc. they all come and slum it with the regular folks, you know, people like you.

Now, Hip Hop Karaoke is a hot mess. A HOT MESS… A HOT MESS!!! People had acts. I want you to take 15 seconds and re-read that eight times. PEOPLE HAD ACTS!!! The best of which was Aaliyah. This bitch had the hair, the outfit, the dance steps, and wait a minute, the dancers. I was speechless. When I thought that was enough there was a Busta Rhymes Karaoken (not a word but I am going to noun that shit) who brought his own hype man… I was thinking who does this shit?!? Then I got the song list and realized there was no Journey so I was like fuck it, I will spectate (not a word but I will action that shit from noun to verb).

In Karaoke the way you can be a mess is sing the song of a mess. So of course why not do Mary J. Blige. Of course you have to be Mary J. Blige pre-Peace and do anything off “What’s the 411?”. The raggedy bitch got up on stage, and sang a montage from the CD. When she hit the track “I’m going down” bitch was on the floor, like she went down and never came up. Just think, Mary J. got busted in the eye over that kinda shit back then.

OH Humpday!!!