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August 26th 2014
Alright I know there are at least 1 million people who have been dripping with anticipation for this blog but things have been so intense, so incredibly heart throbbingly twisty and turny the previous few days that I have had to put off writing this important message to you. Nonetheless, you can relax now. I am here, logging my ballering in this blog.
We'll start things out with this past Friday, events which took place beginning in Lynn, MAssachusetts, taking us to the arbitrarily dilineated township of Peabody, MA, and finally into Boston for the night.
I took off from my great aunt's place full of hope, anticipation, and some kind of horniness. I was getting pumped up because I was headed to Peabody in order to meet my distance cousin there. First things first, we have dinner with the family but everyone is old except for the main characters of this story: My cousin (we'll call her Taytay), her boyfriend (called Trillestillest) and, of course, everyone's favorite main chracter: Me.
Finally, dinner ends and the beloved elderly women in our party depart. Its time for us kids to party. I had not seen Taytay since we were both under ten years old ut at the same time it wasn't like we had any catching up to do. Taytay is "black" (Really half caucasian half black -- btw she is a good looking woman and I heard through the grapevine that her father is one of the top 100 good looking black dudes on the planet). Anyhow, we clicked well and her boyfriend Trillestillest is pretty cool. After we exchanged minor catching-up and traded some lifestyle advice, it was time for us to head out to the club. Tonight is the night of that we shall party and make good on all of the prime years of youth that we have to live, all three of us in our mid twenties (well, TrillestIllest is level 30 now, so I just lied to you. I apologize.).
We leave the Irish Pub after dinner and hope into my cousin's jet. Before anyone knows it, we've traveled the 10 or so miles into Boston's famous Fanuel Hall area. The place is packed, its totally hoppin', and night has fallen. The plan is to bar hop but for some reason these two put ME in charge, "Whatever you want" they say, my reply, "I don't know where I am take me places" "Whatever you want" they reiterate" but still leave me to lead. Of course, this is what I was born for so I walk over to the first entrance to a bar I see. Turns out this place is also a nightclub, and after haranguing the bouncer over the specific location of my birthdate on my out-of-state ID ("I was looking for the expiration date" was the reply), I learn that this place has an upstairs nightclub that is going to get poppin' later on. We'll call that place UpstairsHipHopRoom, anyway, we go into this sweet looking bar.
Obviously the bar is stone dead once we get inside. I run to the toilet and piss.. cuz I had to piss. TrillestIllest, too. Anyway, we can't just walk out after using their facilities like that so we order drinks. My manly order of whisky (neat) is trumped by Taytay's order of a "Red Death". So we drink and the night has officially begun!
OBviously we immediately leave that bar and start roaming the streets. We talk to some more bouncers and, thanks to our party's dashing good looks, are offered a reduced cover price to one of the bars-slash-nightclubs (turns out everywhere on this block is a bar with a nightclub room.) Of course, we don't go into the bar with reduced cover because they're probably dead, too. Things start looking rough for me as the barhopping leader of the night and we begin roaming the sidewalks. There is a party bus with discolights and music, it seems like the most awesome thing we've seen so far, and a random patron tries to wave me inside after I we catch eyes. Not one to be ordered around by random hussies, we pass the only good party (in that bus) we've seen in town so far.
Dang. Is this place dead? No. We wander around under my ruthless leadership, like some kind of lion's pride. Time passes. The nightclub parts of the bars start picking up and the story begins as we re-enter UpstairsHipHopRoom. Whammo, $15 cover a piece, so we know this is going to be a party.
We make it up stairs and the music is bumpin'. We're basically in a single room 20 foot by 60 foot and there are tons of black people of varying skin tones (which is cool with me) and some are ridiculously fine. I'm all ready to start dancing with babes and get drunk so I jump onto the empty dance floor (someone has to provide the spark) and being busting moves for a song before we move to the bar and start getting loaded. I'm looking at everyone in this place and they're generally having a good time getting into that club mood (aka having their first drinks).
Man oh man, things get real cuz I am the only whiteface in this joint. I reactivate dancing mode for a few moments and the next song the dancefloor has somehow filled up with people. There's an absurdly attractive, petite woman with that neato afro hair-do wearing a long skirt made of thin cloth with a black vest over a white shirt. She's dancing with a girlfriend of hers and I roll up, and I'm all like, "your hair is beautiful." She is into it and gives me a thank you but I basically have nothin' else for her at the moment and I don't actually care any further so I walk away and talk some random shit about the crowd being all black with Taytay and Trillestillest. This place is basically becoming my place and I'm dancing again.
So I decide to try out a move that I did not previously approve of, see, I'm planting seeds around the nightclub to see what comes up later, right? I notice that absurdly attractive girl has glanced over to me a few times and I'm ready to show her how tough I am so I ignore her and walk up to some other woman with fluffy hair and her girlfriends. I compliment the first woman's earrings (They were pretty sweet hoops) and then whip out my forbidden moves and I say, "But your girlfriend has nicer hair." All she gives back to me is a "that's nice.." and one of those eyeball look-aways that indicate that she is all like, "whatever". I ran out of bullets and really have no interest in pursuing any of these ladies so I get back to my dancefloor hustle.
By now people are gettin' crunk and the dancefloor is poppin'. Some dudes are doing their hoodlum/dancehall bro dances and are having a great time. Well shit, the party was pretty awesome, and things snowballed into dudes grabbing girls for grinding and bros dancing while I'm running around playing hype-man and relating with randoms.
It was a good time.
A couple of days later I dreamed of myself playing a really awesome mobile game and following some kind of unconscious psychological catharsis dream I dreamt of the final mission of a totally freaking awesome survival game that took place on an alien planet with a semi-breathable atmosphere and sub-zero temperatures. So after I finish elaborating the videogame, I'm looking for mobile app developers.
Thanks to that dream, I dropped one of my college courses that was going to cause me scheduling trouble in the pursuit of my entrepreneurial aims.
The end.
Best Regards,
RG
