Blowed (part 2)

Check out Part 1 if you missed it.

The ladies went their own way, dismayed by Earl’s eccentric behavior. That was cool because the night was still young and so were we. We decided that we would try to hit up a club. But first we walked around some more hollering at chicks. When I think back, these were the stupidest lines ever, but it got the ladies’ laughing . We would approach a group of girls and hit em with this line.

SWV, come take a picture with us. Or hey, look its TLC.

I know that shit was stupid, but all we wanted was to take some pictures so we could show them off when we got back home. And it worked. I was designated camera man, while Kareem and Dmitri were the spokesmen. After a while, we noticed that Earl started hanging back from us when we were talking to the girls. We decided it was time for an intervention.

Kareem: Earl, what the fuck is yo problem, kid?

Earl: Nothing, I’m cool

Me: Why you over there looking like someone ran over your dog? You don’t see all these females out here?

Earl: I said I was cool.

Meat: Kareem, you better get your boy, because he actin like a little bitch.

Earl: Fine, I’m just hungry.

Me and Kareem (simultaneously): Why the fuck you ain’t eat at the restaurant?

Meat: Lets just get this nigga some food, before he trip over his skirt. (whispering) Bitch ass nigga.

We walked back to the Five Points Marta station to go get the truck The train was thick with females as well. Kareem, Dmitri and I shot the shit with the girls while Earl sat staring out the window. When we got to the car, we pulled up in a McDonalds so Earl could get a Big Mac. He scarfed the meal down and it was time to hit a club. Kareem lit another blunt and I broke out the E and J bottle from under the seat. It was time to get blitzed and have some fun.

We arrived at Jazzy T’s, a strip club on the east side. It was a little ghetto, but it served our purpose. The line outside was winding around the corner of the building. We stood in line for about 10 minutes, ready to see some naked women. As we got closer to the door, Earl started complaining about being sick.

Earl: Guys, I don’t feel too good. I think I gotta throw up.

Me: Nigga, you ain’t even finish your drink. What the fuck are you talking bout?

Kareem: Go head and handle yo business. We’ll hold your spot in line.

Earl: Nah, I need to go home. I’m really sick.

Meat: I ain’t leaving. I didn’t come to Freaknik to sit at home.

Earl: Well give me your keys. I’ll just chill in the car.

Kareem: Are you fuckin’ serious? Man, its some hoes in here. That’ll make you feel better.

Earl: I gotta lay down.

Me: Fuck it, give this nigga the keys.

Meat: Aiight, but you betta not throw up in my whip.

Dmitri tossed him the keys and the rest of us went inside. We had a good ass time in the strip club, tossing back drinks and getting table dances. I damn near forgot that Earl was in the car supposedly sick. Around 1 AM, we decided to hit up a new spot. Besides the strip club portion of the budget was spent. We went to the parking lot and discovered that the Montero wasn’t where we parked it. Dmitri was mad as hell.

Meat: Where the fuck is this nigga with my truck?

Me: Yo, Earl got a cell phone?

Kareem: Nah, just a beeper.

We beeped this nigga 911 and 20 minutes later he pulls up with a lame explanation about meeting some girls in the parking lot and hanging out with them. I had to physically restrain Dmitri from beating Earl’s ass. You don’t just fuck with a man’s ride like that. We jumped back in the truck and rode around the city while Dmitri cooled off and Earl kept lying about the girls he was with. We was blowed, and decided to call it a night and went back to my sisters crib to crash. Friday was a bust, but surely Saturday had to be better.

We woke up Saturday morning determined to have more fun than the night before. After showering and getting dressed and stealing some more of my sisters liquor, we headed to IHOP for breakfast. We made our plans for the day while chowing down on pancakes and eggs. First on the agenda: hanging out at Underground Atlanta. Second: the free concert at Piedmont Park. That was supposed to be an all day event. Next: Come home and change clothes, then go to the WuTang Concert at Morris Brown. Finally, we were gonna hit The Atrium, a club in Stone Mountain. We all agreed that this was the move for the afternoon, even Earl. With a solid plan in place, we got our day started. Earl was driving while Kareem, Dmitri and I smoked a blunt (remember this for later in the story.)

First up was Underground Atlanta. That shit was packed with fly girls and other niggas like us on the prowl. We did the lame SWV-TLC skit to get more pictures and flirted with the honeys. Even Earl was back in rare form approaching girls and actually looking like he was having a good time. For the moment, we were not blowed, just 4 young men enjoying life. Around 2, we made our way to Piedmont Park for the free concert. I can’t remember who was performing, but I remember it was some mismatched booty music – R&B mix. Like 69 Boyz and Shai, or something. It was hot as hell out there and there was an enormous amount of Black people out there. We hung out in the park listening to the music and drinking Bacardi Limon out of sports bottles. Maybe it was the drink, or maybe it was the heat or maybe that nigga was just nucking futz, but Earl decides that he wants to get on the stage.

Earl: I’m bout to go get on the stage.

Me: (instigating again) Yo, you should do that shit, kid!!!

Kareem: Man, shut the fuck up! You can’t even get up there. Security would bust your ass before you even got there.

Meat: I swear to God, if this nigga do that shit…

Me: Man fuck them, you a muhfucking Marine. You wanna go on stage, then get on the stage. Who gonna stop you?

Why the fuck did I say that? Earl started making his way through the crowd and eventually was directly in front of the stage. Kareem and I were cracking up, waiting to see Earl get beat down by the burly security guard. We have a sick sense of humor about stuff like that and that nigga had been getting on our nerves for the last 24 hours. Anyway, Earl made his move and got bumrushed off the stage. Of course, that was the most hilarious thing we had ever seen. We didn’t even try to hide our laughter when Earl came back.

Earl: Why ya’ll laughing?

Meat: Cuz yo stupid ass just got thrown six feet to the ground.

Me: That shit was funny, dawg!

Kareem: What the fuck were you thinking?

Earl: Fuck all y’all. You supposed to be my boys and you laughing.

Suddenly, everybody started running. I didn’t know why they were running, but we took off too. I don’t know if someone was shooting or what, but like any Black comedian will tell you, Black people ain’t gonna stick around to find out. Kareem, Dmitri and I all ran one way and that nigga Earl went the other way. When the hectic scene calmed down, we looked around for Earl, but he was nowhere to be found. For about an hour, we searched for this nigga, but we couldn’t find him. It would have made sense for him to come back to our spot, but he didn’t. I came up with the idea that maybe he was waiting at the train station, so we looked there too, but no Earl. Finally, with no idea how he was thinking, we took the train back to the car to see if he was waiting there. We wasted another hour on that wild goose chase. But we still couldn’t find Earl. That shit was blowing me…

To Be Continued

It was written...