Saturday I got on the train. I was heading to the Bronx for a Jamaican BBQ fundraiser. It was crowded as usual. There was a young African American couple standing in front of me. I would say they were in their mind to late 20's. He was a very dark skinned, skinny, tall man, with locks in his hair, that ran down his back. He had on dark sunglasses. They were outlined in white. It was 9PM at night, so I guess he put them on for a certain effect. It came across as stupid to me. Although he sounds attractive, he was not. His girlfriend was Carmel complexioned with a medium build. It didn't seem like she would be with a guy like this, but at the same time she seemed a little confused. It was about 88 degrees outside, and she had on a fitted, long sleeve, sweater and a pair of leg high, moccasin boots, with a short skirt. I thought that was odd, since I had on a top that had all of my arms and back out and I was sweating like a pig in heat. A seat opened up, and instead of the man offering the seat to his girlfriend; he ran and sat down in it. People were looking at her and him. I'm sure they were thinking the same thing I was. "NO he didn't! Your a pretty girl. You don't have to be with a man that looks like that, and is going to treat you like this. Hmm... you must have self esteem issues?" She looked at him with a scowl on her face, and she looked at us in embarrassment.
It amazes me sometimes. We as single women want to have a male companion soo bad. That we compromise ourselves, and let men disrespect us just so we don't have to be lonely. We have to SNAP out of it! It really is NOT that serious. If you end up in such a situation you have to come to a realization that this is someone that you should NOT and probably had no business being with in the first place. I'm speaking from experience! Trust me you don't have to settle. There are plenty of men out there.
Still on the train. Anxious to reach my destination. I haven't been this deep in the Bronx before. I sat there and wonder why does there always have to be some retarded person on the train? I don't mean that in a actual sense, but I do know the answer. It's New York! There are so many damn people, ain't no way they would all be normal! This African girl got on the train. She bumped hard into the water bottle I had in my hand. She didn't even try to say excuse me. I looked at her in disgust as she sat down next to me. That's when I noticed she was drunk. God is so good. Part of me wanted to yell at her, but the Lord held my tongue. No telling how that would have turned out, especially since I was PMS'n! Her guy friend moved her away from me. Good thing, because I don't want to become as rude as 75% of the New York population.
I'm finally at my destination, and I had a wonderful time. I have realized that we as Americans really don't know how to throw a Party. In Addition to island men seem to know how to be gentlemen much better than American men! I paid for my ticket which included a plate of BBQ and a beverage. They had top shelf liquor that you could purchase along with various Jamaican desserts. If I would have waited I wouldn't of had to pay for anything. I had men getting me drinks and food all night long.
Although island men are courteous they still can be snakes. My friend later informed me that one of my suitors was married. Shocked as hell I called him on it. Names aren't important here. As the tall, dark, gentlemen asked me if he could get me another drink, I asked him "how would your wife feel about you getting me a drink?" "HUH?"he said. "You heard me." I said. "Uuhh, I was going to tell you. I would have told you." he said. I just laughed at him. He had to know I didn't believe a word he was saying. I thanked him for the drinks and kept it moving! That is a world of craziness. That I don't have anytime for! Do you know he still had the nerve to approach me. He asked me if he could go home with me. Of course I told him no, and yet this man tried to cock block me for the rest of the night. For those of you who don't know. Cock block means: When a person tries to prevent other people from having contact with you, other than themselves. It worked for a little while. Then I figured out how to ditch him, and I was back in the game.
Dancing, Winding, Grinding, Sweating, Eating and drinking: Malibu and Cranberry juice, three shots of Patron, and a serving of Jamaican Rum Punch later and I'm am ready to call it a night. There was an Jamaican guy that I danced with. He was about 5'7, brown skinned, wore glasses, average looking. He seemed nice enough to become acquainted with, maybe even friends, but that's it. He wanted me to stay at his place. I told him I wasn't that kind of chick. He kept telling his occupation as if that was going to change my mind. He told me more than five times that he was a pharmacist. LMAO. These men are a HOT MESS! He had four kids by the same women and claimed he wasn't married. I thanked him for walking me back to the subway and went on with my business.
I'm sure some of you have heard that you can walk down to the subway for free entertainment. It is true. I'm sitting on the train quietly, and out of no where three, young, African American boys get up and start yelling their chant and dancing. In the chant they told their ages. They were 9-10 years old. After they got done chanting, stepping and dancing, one of the boys walked the train with his hands out for donations. I had to give him something. It was kinda of cool, and you have to be pretty bold to do what they did. It hard to stand up straight on a moving train. Let alone start dancing an doing flips on the train while its moving and turning corners. When he got done collecting the money they moved to the next car. Not a bad way for youth to make some honest money, and it looked like they were really racking up.
Alright people. Until next time. Have a wonderful blessed holiday. Smooches!
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Saturday, June 26, 2010
OOO...Kinky
Sorry guys. Life has been crazy. I have to give you and update on the past two weeks.
After getting off the subway and catching the wrong bus, I made it to the Singles Evening Cruise down at Pier 81. It wasn't near as adventurous as my last cruise, but it was a decent way to spend Wednesday night. The highlight of my evening was seeing the Statue of Liberty! Along with running into broke leg girl. You guys remember her from the post about club Vudu. Well she fell while dancing to MJ's Beat It,and I couldn't help but to laugh. Besides she didn't hurt herself, and two people helped her up.
Friday night I went to a Latin Quarters. I tried so hard to get there for the Happy Hour. Two drinks for the price of one along with complementary wings, rice, etc. Consequently I had to work late at the last minute and missed it. So of course I had a glass of wine at home. NYC police cops didn't help either. Since they gave me the wrong directions to the club. Luckily one of my friends had gotten me two drinks before the special ended and had them waiting on me when I arrived. Two Vodkas and Sprite. That was the first time I had that drink mixture, and will not have it like that again, unless I necessarily have to. Later on in the evening a handsome Peurtorican bartender made me an Margarita on ice. He liked me so he put an extra shot of alcohol in my drink. That did it. I was officially tipsy.
I had seen this African guy watching my friends and me from the moment I arrived. He eventually worked his way over to us. He danced with each one of them. What I didn't know is, I was his main focus. I danced until i couldn't dance anymore. Tired, I sat down at our table. I decided I would just chill and watch my friends continue to boogie. I kicked off my heels and started rubbing my feet. Within minutes the guy that had been dancing with all my friends was sitting across from me. He picked up my foot and began massaging it. It felt so good that I couldn't say anything. I just tilted my head back and closed my eyes. Suddenly I started to feel this relaxing, slightly, intoxicating feeling. I looked up at the guy and he was sucking my toes! I was in total bliss. I know some minutes passed till I came to my right mind. I snatched my foot away and moved to the other end of my table. I think my mom would have slapped me for letting that man do that. Especially since I didn't know his name. After a few minutes he moved over next to me. He whispered in my ear that he wanted to suck something else. "What?" I asked. "I want to suck your PUSSY!" He told me. "You don't even know my name." is what I was thinking to myself. That's when he started to rub my back. I told him to stop and he did for all of a few seconds. Then he started to do it again. I smacked him on the leg and told him "If you touch me again, it will be your face next." I guess he didn't believe me so he rubbed my back again, and "SMACK!" I hit him in his face. That was the 1st time I've ever really smack a man I didn't know. It felt kinda of good. He stopped, but with in seconds I felt something hot and wet on my back. He was now french kissing my back. "SMACK! SMACK!" Right in his face. Thats when I realized he liked it. I could have smacked him all night and he would have been just fine with it. My girlsfriends told him to leave me alone or they were going to all jump him. I had to flirt with another guy to get rid of him. Apperently this club has other locations around the USA, so feel free to go out and have a good time. Don't forget to let me know what you think.
Anyhow. I don't know whats worse. Me missing my train twice because I didn't realize that the #4 wasn't running. Which means I needed to take the #6. So what would have been a 30 minute trip has now turned into an hour. Now on the train and the man next to me just farted or it might have been the women in front of me. Either way it stunk! Or being on the train and sitting next to an Spanish man who is sleeping, and his head keeps falling on your shoulder. You be the judge.
After getting off the subway and catching the wrong bus, I made it to the Singles Evening Cruise down at Pier 81. It wasn't near as adventurous as my last cruise, but it was a decent way to spend Wednesday night. The highlight of my evening was seeing the Statue of Liberty! Along with running into broke leg girl. You guys remember her from the post about club Vudu. Well she fell while dancing to MJ's Beat It,and I couldn't help but to laugh. Besides she didn't hurt herself, and two people helped her up.
Friday night I went to a Latin Quarters. I tried so hard to get there for the Happy Hour. Two drinks for the price of one along with complementary wings, rice, etc. Consequently I had to work late at the last minute and missed it. So of course I had a glass of wine at home. NYC police cops didn't help either. Since they gave me the wrong directions to the club. Luckily one of my friends had gotten me two drinks before the special ended and had them waiting on me when I arrived. Two Vodkas and Sprite. That was the first time I had that drink mixture, and will not have it like that again, unless I necessarily have to. Later on in the evening a handsome Peurtorican bartender made me an Margarita on ice. He liked me so he put an extra shot of alcohol in my drink. That did it. I was officially tipsy.
I had seen this African guy watching my friends and me from the moment I arrived. He eventually worked his way over to us. He danced with each one of them. What I didn't know is, I was his main focus. I danced until i couldn't dance anymore. Tired, I sat down at our table. I decided I would just chill and watch my friends continue to boogie. I kicked off my heels and started rubbing my feet. Within minutes the guy that had been dancing with all my friends was sitting across from me. He picked up my foot and began massaging it. It felt so good that I couldn't say anything. I just tilted my head back and closed my eyes. Suddenly I started to feel this relaxing, slightly, intoxicating feeling. I looked up at the guy and he was sucking my toes! I was in total bliss. I know some minutes passed till I came to my right mind. I snatched my foot away and moved to the other end of my table. I think my mom would have slapped me for letting that man do that. Especially since I didn't know his name. After a few minutes he moved over next to me. He whispered in my ear that he wanted to suck something else. "What?" I asked. "I want to suck your PUSSY!" He told me. "You don't even know my name." is what I was thinking to myself. That's when he started to rub my back. I told him to stop and he did for all of a few seconds. Then he started to do it again. I smacked him on the leg and told him "If you touch me again, it will be your face next." I guess he didn't believe me so he rubbed my back again, and "SMACK!" I hit him in his face. That was the 1st time I've ever really smack a man I didn't know. It felt kinda of good. He stopped, but with in seconds I felt something hot and wet on my back. He was now french kissing my back. "SMACK! SMACK!" Right in his face. Thats when I realized he liked it. I could have smacked him all night and he would have been just fine with it. My girlsfriends told him to leave me alone or they were going to all jump him. I had to flirt with another guy to get rid of him. Apperently this club has other locations around the USA, so feel free to go out and have a good time. Don't forget to let me know what you think.
Anyhow. I don't know whats worse. Me missing my train twice because I didn't realize that the #4 wasn't running. Which means I needed to take the #6. So what would have been a 30 minute trip has now turned into an hour. Now on the train and the man next to me just farted or it might have been the women in front of me. Either way it stunk! Or being on the train and sitting next to an Spanish man who is sleeping, and his head keeps falling on your shoulder. You be the judge.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
WARNING This is NOT for the Faint!! N.Y. Princess
I hadn't been out all week and I was ready to kick it hard! Money was no issue tonight. When you work hard for the money and/or have a hard work week you have to treat yourself. $70 in one night was very well spent. I know to some that might be chump change, but I'm saving up for my birthday vacation. Which is taking place in Jamaica! Trust me you will want to read all about it.
Now back to what I was saying. I was on my way to Brooklyn for an event being held by Thicker The Better Ent. They were hosting a midnight cruise aboard the N.Y. Princess. The theme being Callaloo Crusin. I don't know how to say this with out sounding races. On the subway I got stuck sitting next to a couple whom smelled like fried chicken. Stereotypically they were African American. All I could think was please let me get off this train smelling like myself and NOT like fried chicken! The young man had his hand around his girl friend, and she leaned into him. She didn't lean in far enough because she had this huge hair weave in. It kept touching my arm, making me think something was crawling on me. I was glad when they finally got off the train. A Caucasian man had on a white T-shirt. In bold black letters it said
Straight for gays. That was my comic relief. I think that the best part of NYC is that people just do what they damn well please. I'll go in depth about that a little later.
It is now an hour later and I still have 30 minutes to go. I wait for the next train to come so I can make my transfer. It's amazing how many people will talk to you out of no where when your makeup is right, and your hair it tight, and you have a little cleavage showing. OK maybe more than a little. After I got off the second train, I took a short cab ride over to my destination. I was happy that I had gotten there on time. The tickets said boarding at 11pm and sailing promptly at midnight. Well I'm sure I don't have to tell you that we didn't begin to board the ship till midnight, and we didn't set sail till 1A.M. I'm going to tell you right now. I didn't get home till after 6A.M. this morning. I didn't even know I could still hang that long.
We all got into a long line to board the ship. Security walked along the line. They instructed us that we would have to throw away all gum and any liquids. That was strange to me. I never heard of a no gum rule aboard a Cruise ship. I heard of no gum chewing inside a classroom. Funny they didn't say anything about weapons. Although they did do purse and body checks.
As I got closer to getting on the inside of the ship, I noticed that one of my flowers was missing off my sandal. This was only my second time wearing them. I paid $20 for a dressy, pair of gold, thong, flip flop, sandals. They had beautiful gold flowers on them. I wondered where had I lost the flower ornament. Oh hell! I couldn't go on the ship looking like I had on two different pair of shoes. Once aboard, I headed straight to the bathroom. I quickly thought about the Mentos commercial and gently pulled the other flower off my shoe. Now I was ready to party.
I got mad compliments on looking classy and not trashy. I had on a ankle length, ethnic dress. It tied around my neck and accentuated my breast tremendously. There were a lot of women walking around in booty shorts, way to short dresses and some women had on leotards with tights. I'm talking about grown ass women! Some people looked a Hot Mess, and some looked nice. Then you had your women trying to look like the video girls. As far as the men went most of theme were GQ. They had on Suits, nice shirts, slacks and nice shoes. There were a lot of sexy men on board. I had to make sure I didn't stare too long. Didn't want to be rude. The ship was mainly made up of Hispanic, Toboggan, Trinidad, and African people with a sprinkle of other nationalities here and there. It's funny to me. People look at me and assume I'm African or from an Island. I take it as a compliment, but as soon as I open my mouth they ask me where am I from. I always wanted an accent. I never knew I had one until I moved here. Maybe my look will help me land that leading role one day or any role for that matter.
I went to the bar and order myself a drink. I noticed a few fine men and then I went down to the bottom level of the ship. I found my self a seat and finished my drink. I ordered another drink from the bar downstairs. I don't remember what it was I got. It was something new, but the bartender made it much stronger than the bartender upstairs. The ship hadn't even set sail yet and I was tipsy as hell. I think that's when I began to notice that there were a lot more couples down stairs. Regular couples and then some looked to be swingers and lesbians couples. I really had to do a few double take because some of the men were actually women. I don't think y'all understand. One woman had long locks in her hair. She had on a pastel, mint colored suit, with square toe shoes to match. She had on the tie and the vest, and didn't seem to have any breast. Her girlfriend was really pretty. I thought they were a hetero sexual couple. I had to do a four take, NOT a double take because seriously I was almost fooled. My gaydar is soo broke. I cant tell if your gay or lesbian unless you are truly flaming one way or the other. It seemed like most of the single men and women were upstairs dancing. I wanted to dance, but I was much more ready to get my grub on. My instincts sent me to the right place. Once we set sail they began to serve the food; which was on the lower level along with complimentary jello shots. Every one that was upstairs was now downstairs.
Two alcohol drinks, four jellos shots and a plate of island food later(rice and peas, fried dumplings, chicken,etc) I'm upstairs outside on the deck. I walked right into a weed smoking gathering. There were a least five blunts going around as well as people smoking there own joints. My nose is soo sensitive. I can pick distinctive scents out of anything. As soon as I walked out side I got hit with the smells of the marijuana. The scent was so pungent. I smelled: skunk weed, spicy, black, pepper weed, and something that smelled like a mix between plants and flowers. I was only on the deck for ten minutes looking at the water, and I think I got a contact high. I was about to go back inside when an older man approached me. Lawd Help! I think he was more near my grandmothers age than mine. He was dress MUCH younger than he was. He had a joint in his hand and he was trying to spit game at me. He got me a shot of tequila and a pineapple and Malibu. We talked a little bit and then went inside to dance. He might have been old, but this man could move. Winding and grinding on me.
Reggae, Soca, R&B, Hip Hop and Old School was playing the whole night. My best friend would have loved this cruise. It was right up her alley. I danced the night away with some other man. I can't remember his name now, but I believe I burned off all my calories from the food I ate. My makeup was gone and I had worked up a serious sweat. As I looked around the danced floor it seemed like every one was winding and grinding, popping and locking, or just dancing in the Doggie Style position. I decided that I had had enough. I went downstairs. I knew the restroom would be less crowded there, since most of the people on the boat were now upstairs. I then found my self a seat and just took in my atmosphere. There were people passed out in the chairs. I couldn't blame them. It was going on 4A.M. and I was tired too. I didn't even want to think of my hour and 30 minute ride back into the city. I told my self that I would not be one of those people you see sleeping on the subway. To my pleasure. I met a really cool guy. Well actually I met five cool guys. All willing to drive me back into the city where I live. I went with my first instinct for once. I know his name, but for his own privacy I will call him Samuel. He lives in New Jersey. He was willing to give me a ride into the city NOT to my house, so I went with him. Very nice guy. Hope to keep in touch with him. I was so grateful. I now only had to take one train to get home.
Once inside the station a guy stopped me to talk. He was cute, but way to young for me. I was sitting at one end of the bench, and another man was sitting at the other end of the bench. As I waited for the train an African American man came and set beside me. He looked normal, but then he started cussing about the subway trains. I just ignored him. Thank God for peripheral vision. I saw him moving out the corner of my eye. When I looked down I saw that this man had pulled out his whole penis and was stoking it! He was sitting right next to me. There was less than three inches between us!
OOH MY GOOSSHHH!!! I rushed towards my train as it approached. The guy rushed after me and apologized for jacking off to me! I don't know if I should have been flattered, but I was appalled that this man took out his Johnson/penis/dick/pecker/meat stick/and or what ever else you want to call it! I DON'T THINK Y'ALL UNDERSTAND! I was freaking out.
After I got over the shock. I realized he had a really nice, fat, penis.
*Just a note* Now I'm on the subway and I cant help but to crack up about what just happened. People were looking at me like " what's up with this chick?", Whew if they only knew? Ten minutes pass and there are about ten people knocked out on the train. Not me! I was wide awake. I wasn't even going to think about sleep, until I was safely in my home.
Now back to what I was saying. I was on my way to Brooklyn for an event being held by Thicker The Better Ent. They were hosting a midnight cruise aboard the N.Y. Princess. The theme being Callaloo Crusin. I don't know how to say this with out sounding races. On the subway I got stuck sitting next to a couple whom smelled like fried chicken. Stereotypically they were African American. All I could think was please let me get off this train smelling like myself and NOT like fried chicken! The young man had his hand around his girl friend, and she leaned into him. She didn't lean in far enough because she had this huge hair weave in. It kept touching my arm, making me think something was crawling on me. I was glad when they finally got off the train. A Caucasian man had on a white T-shirt. In bold black letters it said
Straight for gays. That was my comic relief. I think that the best part of NYC is that people just do what they damn well please. I'll go in depth about that a little later.
It is now an hour later and I still have 30 minutes to go. I wait for the next train to come so I can make my transfer. It's amazing how many people will talk to you out of no where when your makeup is right, and your hair it tight, and you have a little cleavage showing. OK maybe more than a little. After I got off the second train, I took a short cab ride over to my destination. I was happy that I had gotten there on time. The tickets said boarding at 11pm and sailing promptly at midnight. Well I'm sure I don't have to tell you that we didn't begin to board the ship till midnight, and we didn't set sail till 1A.M. I'm going to tell you right now. I didn't get home till after 6A.M. this morning. I didn't even know I could still hang that long.
We all got into a long line to board the ship. Security walked along the line. They instructed us that we would have to throw away all gum and any liquids. That was strange to me. I never heard of a no gum rule aboard a Cruise ship. I heard of no gum chewing inside a classroom. Funny they didn't say anything about weapons. Although they did do purse and body checks.
As I got closer to getting on the inside of the ship, I noticed that one of my flowers was missing off my sandal. This was only my second time wearing them. I paid $20 for a dressy, pair of gold, thong, flip flop, sandals. They had beautiful gold flowers on them. I wondered where had I lost the flower ornament. Oh hell! I couldn't go on the ship looking like I had on two different pair of shoes. Once aboard, I headed straight to the bathroom. I quickly thought about the Mentos commercial and gently pulled the other flower off my shoe. Now I was ready to party.
I got mad compliments on looking classy and not trashy. I had on a ankle length, ethnic dress. It tied around my neck and accentuated my breast tremendously. There were a lot of women walking around in booty shorts, way to short dresses and some women had on leotards with tights. I'm talking about grown ass women! Some people looked a Hot Mess, and some looked nice. Then you had your women trying to look like the video girls. As far as the men went most of theme were GQ. They had on Suits, nice shirts, slacks and nice shoes. There were a lot of sexy men on board. I had to make sure I didn't stare too long. Didn't want to be rude. The ship was mainly made up of Hispanic, Toboggan, Trinidad, and African people with a sprinkle of other nationalities here and there. It's funny to me. People look at me and assume I'm African or from an Island. I take it as a compliment, but as soon as I open my mouth they ask me where am I from. I always wanted an accent. I never knew I had one until I moved here. Maybe my look will help me land that leading role one day or any role for that matter.
I went to the bar and order myself a drink. I noticed a few fine men and then I went down to the bottom level of the ship. I found my self a seat and finished my drink. I ordered another drink from the bar downstairs. I don't remember what it was I got. It was something new, but the bartender made it much stronger than the bartender upstairs. The ship hadn't even set sail yet and I was tipsy as hell. I think that's when I began to notice that there were a lot more couples down stairs. Regular couples and then some looked to be swingers and lesbians couples. I really had to do a few double take because some of the men were actually women. I don't think y'all understand. One woman had long locks in her hair. She had on a pastel, mint colored suit, with square toe shoes to match. She had on the tie and the vest, and didn't seem to have any breast. Her girlfriend was really pretty. I thought they were a hetero sexual couple. I had to do a four take, NOT a double take because seriously I was almost fooled. My gaydar is soo broke. I cant tell if your gay or lesbian unless you are truly flaming one way or the other. It seemed like most of the single men and women were upstairs dancing. I wanted to dance, but I was much more ready to get my grub on. My instincts sent me to the right place. Once we set sail they began to serve the food; which was on the lower level along with complimentary jello shots. Every one that was upstairs was now downstairs.
Two alcohol drinks, four jellos shots and a plate of island food later(rice and peas, fried dumplings, chicken,etc) I'm upstairs outside on the deck. I walked right into a weed smoking gathering. There were a least five blunts going around as well as people smoking there own joints. My nose is soo sensitive. I can pick distinctive scents out of anything. As soon as I walked out side I got hit with the smells of the marijuana. The scent was so pungent. I smelled: skunk weed, spicy, black, pepper weed, and something that smelled like a mix between plants and flowers. I was only on the deck for ten minutes looking at the water, and I think I got a contact high. I was about to go back inside when an older man approached me. Lawd Help! I think he was more near my grandmothers age than mine. He was dress MUCH younger than he was. He had a joint in his hand and he was trying to spit game at me. He got me a shot of tequila and a pineapple and Malibu. We talked a little bit and then went inside to dance. He might have been old, but this man could move. Winding and grinding on me.
Reggae, Soca, R&B, Hip Hop and Old School was playing the whole night. My best friend would have loved this cruise. It was right up her alley. I danced the night away with some other man. I can't remember his name now, but I believe I burned off all my calories from the food I ate. My makeup was gone and I had worked up a serious sweat. As I looked around the danced floor it seemed like every one was winding and grinding, popping and locking, or just dancing in the Doggie Style position. I decided that I had had enough. I went downstairs. I knew the restroom would be less crowded there, since most of the people on the boat were now upstairs. I then found my self a seat and just took in my atmosphere. There were people passed out in the chairs. I couldn't blame them. It was going on 4A.M. and I was tired too. I didn't even want to think of my hour and 30 minute ride back into the city. I told my self that I would not be one of those people you see sleeping on the subway. To my pleasure. I met a really cool guy. Well actually I met five cool guys. All willing to drive me back into the city where I live. I went with my first instinct for once. I know his name, but for his own privacy I will call him Samuel. He lives in New Jersey. He was willing to give me a ride into the city NOT to my house, so I went with him. Very nice guy. Hope to keep in touch with him. I was so grateful. I now only had to take one train to get home.
Once inside the station a guy stopped me to talk. He was cute, but way to young for me. I was sitting at one end of the bench, and another man was sitting at the other end of the bench. As I waited for the train an African American man came and set beside me. He looked normal, but then he started cussing about the subway trains. I just ignored him. Thank God for peripheral vision. I saw him moving out the corner of my eye. When I looked down I saw that this man had pulled out his whole penis and was stoking it! He was sitting right next to me. There was less than three inches between us!
OOH MY GOOSSHHH!!! I rushed towards my train as it approached. The guy rushed after me and apologized for jacking off to me! I don't know if I should have been flattered, but I was appalled that this man took out his Johnson/penis/dick/pecker/meat stick/and or what ever else you want to call it! I DON'T THINK Y'ALL UNDERSTAND! I was freaking out.
After I got over the shock. I realized he had a really nice, fat, penis.
*Just a note* Now I'm on the subway and I cant help but to crack up about what just happened. People were looking at me like " what's up with this chick?", Whew if they only knew? Ten minutes pass and there are about ten people knocked out on the train. Not me! I was wide awake. I wasn't even going to think about sleep, until I was safely in my home.
It Has Many Forms, Just Like Food.
I went to my first African American Karaoke. This was different for me because I love mix crowds. I was just brought up that way, and I thank my family for doing so. Anyhow this event was being held at the Ink Well in Brooklyn.
At a regular Karaoke spot they are going to start on time because you have a time frame to follow, and time is money if you get my drift. There is also pen and paper in the back or front of the song book. You right down what you want to perform and turn your paper in to the karaoke host. Although I did have a wonderful time, this karaoke was a bit ghetto. First off, I didn't realize that Brooklyn was so far from me. I hate to even put this out there, but in this case it was true. I was two hours late, yet I was right on time. They were on CP time
(Color People); which worked to my advantage.
Once inside I got myself a drink and found a song book. They had the hugest song book that I had ever seen for karaoke. This was a good thing, but there was no paper or pen to write your song request down. The bartender handed me a napkin to use as paper. Luckily I had brought a pen in my purse. Other people were just running up to the karaoke DJ and telling him the ID# of the song they wanted to sing and then he would punch it in his machine.
People performed songs like : Backed that Ass up!, Go Low by Luda, Don't Want No Short Dick Man, and Gin and Juice and if you sung a song they really liked your solo just turned in to an obnoxious sing a long. For y'all that don't know. I like to slow it down. I usually do a little Jill Scott or Mary J or something around that area.
Sitting on the subway on the way home. A voice came over the intercom and informed the passengers that our route had been changed due to work on the tracks. This was not good. I have a horrible since of direction and I was over an hour away from home. Sitting next to some of the patrons of the ink well, I asked them if they knew how to get to the city. It is amazing to me that people can be from here or have lived here for several years, and still cant help someone like me with directions. As a matter of fact they were just as confused as I was trying to find the right route home.
I made a transfer to another train after talking to several different people about directions. It never occurred to me to just use the Internet on my phone to see if I could find an alternate route. That's what alcohol does to you. It was after 1A.M. and the train was packed. All type of different characters were aboard. A black woman who looked as if she was around her late 40's got onto the train. She had on a bright, yellow, big bird T-shirt, a pair of hot pink, plaid, pj pants, and some busted up black shoes. Out of know where she starts singing gospel at the top of her lungs. The song: What a Might God We Serve. I love that song. Part of me really wanted to start singing with her, but I talked myself out of it. I knew if I would have stated singing with her, I would have made an instance friend. Besides my boss warned me to
"never look crazy people in the eye!" I knew she couldn't be right in the head. She was throwing around gospel terms that didn't really fit together.
Once my stop came up. I rushed off the train only to find out that I was on the opposite side of where I needed to be. I took a cab the rest of the way home. It's times like these when I miss my car. I actually sold my car the same day I moved to NYC. Reason being it would be more of a hassle for me to keep my car so I got rid of her:-( Most people in New York don't even have a driver license. They get spoiled by New Yorks great public transportation system. Subsequently; most public schools don't teach Drivers Ed or Behind the Wheel. Which means you have people in their 30's and older trying to learn how to drive. That is why the driving here is so chaotic. At 16, 17, 18 years of age you believe your invisible. Learning how to drive is more fun. At 30 years or older your afraid you might die or kill someone else. You would be amazed how many pedestrians get mowed down by vehicles here. It's really sad.
Anyhow I did pay for this cab ride; although the cab driver informed me that he believes he's my future husband... Ha! I don't think so!
At a regular Karaoke spot they are going to start on time because you have a time frame to follow, and time is money if you get my drift. There is also pen and paper in the back or front of the song book. You right down what you want to perform and turn your paper in to the karaoke host. Although I did have a wonderful time, this karaoke was a bit ghetto. First off, I didn't realize that Brooklyn was so far from me. I hate to even put this out there, but in this case it was true. I was two hours late, yet I was right on time. They were on CP time
(Color People); which worked to my advantage.
Once inside I got myself a drink and found a song book. They had the hugest song book that I had ever seen for karaoke. This was a good thing, but there was no paper or pen to write your song request down. The bartender handed me a napkin to use as paper. Luckily I had brought a pen in my purse. Other people were just running up to the karaoke DJ and telling him the ID# of the song they wanted to sing and then he would punch it in his machine.
People performed songs like : Backed that Ass up!, Go Low by Luda, Don't Want No Short Dick Man, and Gin and Juice and if you sung a song they really liked your solo just turned in to an obnoxious sing a long. For y'all that don't know. I like to slow it down. I usually do a little Jill Scott or Mary J or something around that area.
Sitting on the subway on the way home. A voice came over the intercom and informed the passengers that our route had been changed due to work on the tracks. This was not good. I have a horrible since of direction and I was over an hour away from home. Sitting next to some of the patrons of the ink well, I asked them if they knew how to get to the city. It is amazing to me that people can be from here or have lived here for several years, and still cant help someone like me with directions. As a matter of fact they were just as confused as I was trying to find the right route home.
I made a transfer to another train after talking to several different people about directions. It never occurred to me to just use the Internet on my phone to see if I could find an alternate route. That's what alcohol does to you. It was after 1A.M. and the train was packed. All type of different characters were aboard. A black woman who looked as if she was around her late 40's got onto the train. She had on a bright, yellow, big bird T-shirt, a pair of hot pink, plaid, pj pants, and some busted up black shoes. Out of know where she starts singing gospel at the top of her lungs. The song: What a Might God We Serve. I love that song. Part of me really wanted to start singing with her, but I talked myself out of it. I knew if I would have stated singing with her, I would have made an instance friend. Besides my boss warned me to
"never look crazy people in the eye!" I knew she couldn't be right in the head. She was throwing around gospel terms that didn't really fit together.
Once my stop came up. I rushed off the train only to find out that I was on the opposite side of where I needed to be. I took a cab the rest of the way home. It's times like these when I miss my car. I actually sold my car the same day I moved to NYC. Reason being it would be more of a hassle for me to keep my car so I got rid of her:-( Most people in New York don't even have a driver license. They get spoiled by New Yorks great public transportation system. Subsequently; most public schools don't teach Drivers Ed or Behind the Wheel. Which means you have people in their 30's and older trying to learn how to drive. That is why the driving here is so chaotic. At 16, 17, 18 years of age you believe your invisible. Learning how to drive is more fun. At 30 years or older your afraid you might die or kill someone else. You would be amazed how many pedestrians get mowed down by vehicles here. It's really sad.
Anyhow I did pay for this cab ride; although the cab driver informed me that he believes he's my future husband... Ha! I don't think so!
Nails....Toes..?
I have so much to tell my readers and it's going to take about three different post to tell it all so please get ready.
It was 15 minutes after 8P.M. and I had already been turned away from two nails salons. Even though they had customers in their shop they were not excepting anymore business for the day. I usually do my own manicure and pedicure, but you can get it done for soo cheap here. I figure, I will spoil myself and get them done.
What's the use of having Internet on your phone if you not going to use it; so I googled the nearest nail shop closet to me. I called two of them and they didn't even answer the phone. Then I found one that was only five minutes away, and they were still excepting customers up till 9:30pm. OK. Great! I was saved from being one of the ladies with busted feet. You know the ones that have the nerve to have on a cute sandal, which draws attention to the busted foot!
The salon was packed inside. I told the man that I needed my nails and toes done. He told me okay. There were two ladies ahead of me, so I patiently waited my turn to get my pedicure done. I don't know why they didn't do my nails while I was waiting for a spot to open up for toes. I reminded the man again that I wanted my nails done also, and he shook his head yes.
I looked over to my left and a lady was getting a pedicure and here nails done at the same time. That's when I was prompted to ask the woman doing my feet when were they going to start on my nails. She looked at me in puzzlement. She then asked the man that I had spoken to earlier about my hands. He must have forgotten to tell the other workers. He agreed with me that I had come there for toes and nails. So they had to do my hands to. The man that did my hands gave me a look that said"Damn!, I ain't getting out of here on time", but I tipped him well.
By the time the man had gotten to my nails, there were only four customers left in the shop. After 30minutes passed I was the only customer left in the shop. I don't know how this happen since there was a lady that started getting her feet done when I was getting mine finish and yet there I was the only customer in the salon. All the workers except the one doing my nails were leaving. The only people left were the owners of the store, a husband and wife team along with their teenage son.
The husband and son walked out the shop to go across the street to the deli. A few minutes passed and a young black lady came in the shop begging to use the bathroom. She lied and said that she had just been in the shop. The Asian woman didn't want to let her go to the bathroom because the shop was closed. Besides the restrooms were in the back of the shop. The girl kept begging the lady. She even told the lady that she would leave her purse upfront with her. The owner gave in and let her use the bath room. When the owners husband walked back in the shop, the wife completely lost it. Out of no where she stared yelling and then she through a big thing of keys on the ground. I don't know if she was trying to hit him with them, but she kept throwing these loud keys and she was cussing him out in her language. The girl came out of the bathroom and practically ran out of the shop. The wife fussed and cussed at her husband till she made herself cry. I didn't think Asian women even talked backed to their spouses. I guess she showed me. The weird thing is I don't know what language she was speaking for sure, but I understood everything she was saying.
Sitting with my nails under the dryer, I wondered why I had to be the one to experience this spectacle. Ten minutes passed and the wife starts up again. This time the husband argues back and he has a tone that shuts her down. Three minutes pass and she starts screaming and crying, and honestly I thought she was going to shoot us all. At first I thought maybe the owner was PMS'n. PMS can cause a women to loose touch with reality and snapped off. Subsequently as I looked deeper; I realized there had to be a bigger reason for all the arguing. Tell me what you think.
The wife was pissed at her husband for leaving the door to the shop unlock because the nail salon was closed. This shop only excepts cash as payment. It is very possible that they had been robbed before. Hence the reason why you have to be buzzed in and out of the shop when the door is locked. So when the husband didn't lock the door, he was defeating the whole purpose of having the security. The girl walking in the shop probably brought back horrible memories of the robbing or what ever went down in the shop before, or it could have just been PMS. Either way it goes, I was too happy to leave that shop at 11P.M.
It was 15 minutes after 8P.M. and I had already been turned away from two nails salons. Even though they had customers in their shop they were not excepting anymore business for the day. I usually do my own manicure and pedicure, but you can get it done for soo cheap here. I figure, I will spoil myself and get them done.
What's the use of having Internet on your phone if you not going to use it; so I googled the nearest nail shop closet to me. I called two of them and they didn't even answer the phone. Then I found one that was only five minutes away, and they were still excepting customers up till 9:30pm. OK. Great! I was saved from being one of the ladies with busted feet. You know the ones that have the nerve to have on a cute sandal, which draws attention to the busted foot!
The salon was packed inside. I told the man that I needed my nails and toes done. He told me okay. There were two ladies ahead of me, so I patiently waited my turn to get my pedicure done. I don't know why they didn't do my nails while I was waiting for a spot to open up for toes. I reminded the man again that I wanted my nails done also, and he shook his head yes.
I looked over to my left and a lady was getting a pedicure and here nails done at the same time. That's when I was prompted to ask the woman doing my feet when were they going to start on my nails. She looked at me in puzzlement. She then asked the man that I had spoken to earlier about my hands. He must have forgotten to tell the other workers. He agreed with me that I had come there for toes and nails. So they had to do my hands to. The man that did my hands gave me a look that said"Damn!, I ain't getting out of here on time", but I tipped him well.
By the time the man had gotten to my nails, there were only four customers left in the shop. After 30minutes passed I was the only customer left in the shop. I don't know how this happen since there was a lady that started getting her feet done when I was getting mine finish and yet there I was the only customer in the salon. All the workers except the one doing my nails were leaving. The only people left were the owners of the store, a husband and wife team along with their teenage son.
The husband and son walked out the shop to go across the street to the deli. A few minutes passed and a young black lady came in the shop begging to use the bathroom. She lied and said that she had just been in the shop. The Asian woman didn't want to let her go to the bathroom because the shop was closed. Besides the restrooms were in the back of the shop. The girl kept begging the lady. She even told the lady that she would leave her purse upfront with her. The owner gave in and let her use the bath room. When the owners husband walked back in the shop, the wife completely lost it. Out of no where she stared yelling and then she through a big thing of keys on the ground. I don't know if she was trying to hit him with them, but she kept throwing these loud keys and she was cussing him out in her language. The girl came out of the bathroom and practically ran out of the shop. The wife fussed and cussed at her husband till she made herself cry. I didn't think Asian women even talked backed to their spouses. I guess she showed me. The weird thing is I don't know what language she was speaking for sure, but I understood everything she was saying.
Sitting with my nails under the dryer, I wondered why I had to be the one to experience this spectacle. Ten minutes passed and the wife starts up again. This time the husband argues back and he has a tone that shuts her down. Three minutes pass and she starts screaming and crying, and honestly I thought she was going to shoot us all. At first I thought maybe the owner was PMS'n. PMS can cause a women to loose touch with reality and snapped off. Subsequently as I looked deeper; I realized there had to be a bigger reason for all the arguing. Tell me what you think.
The wife was pissed at her husband for leaving the door to the shop unlock because the nail salon was closed. This shop only excepts cash as payment. It is very possible that they had been robbed before. Hence the reason why you have to be buzzed in and out of the shop when the door is locked. So when the husband didn't lock the door, he was defeating the whole purpose of having the security. The girl walking in the shop probably brought back horrible memories of the robbing or what ever went down in the shop before, or it could have just been PMS. Either way it goes, I was too happy to leave that shop at 11P.M.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
So Many PSYCHOS You Have to PRAY
So much stuff happened through out the week. I almost didn't want to budge when the weekend approached. As a matter fact I spent most of the weekend catching up on sleep. I think I'm aging. Hold on to your hats, and please tell me what you think about my pass week.
As I was walking to the subway. I noticed on the side of me was a plus sized, African American, woman holding the hand of her young daughter. The little girl looked around five years old and was cute as a button. The mother on the other hand had on black leggings with gold trim a black shirt and gold accessories. She thought she was doing it big, and she might have been. If her bright red underwear wasn't showing through her leggings!
"NOT AGAIN!" I thought to myself. What is this? Why are these women not doing the skin test before they purchase their leggings? They are called leggings because there meant to cover up the leg.
If your going to be wearing a shirt that does not cover your behind, you have to do the skin test! I can not make this any more clear! Most of the leggings are manufactured in China or somewhere of that nature. They probably have much more petite bodies in mind when they are making these leggings. No offense, but how many Asian people do you see with curvy hips, thunder thighs and rump for weeks? (I think I just described myself.) Seriously, if you are a plus size person trying to squeeze in some regular sized leggings. You are going to stretch the fabric more than it is meant to be, and that can lead to trouble in more ways than one. If you pay attention. Some of the labels don't even read
"One size fits all" anymore. It says "One size fits most!" Get plus size leggings. Sure they may cost more, but it may save you some embarrassment in the long run. Don't get me wrong. You still have to do the skin test. Trust me. There are leggings that come in solid, non see through, cotton with a hint of spandex material. Please, Please be aware of colors. Don't be fooled. Just because the color is bright or dark doesn't mean you cant see through them!
Now I have a choice. I can say something to the woman or keep on my marry way. I decide not to say anything, until I notice we were both getting on the same elevator to go to the subway platform. We were the only ones on the elevator. So I asked her. "Do you know your underwear are showing through your leggings? You can see right through them. You have on red underwear. I don't know if you wanted it that way or not. I'm not from here, so I don't know if that's the style here in New York, because I saw another girl do the same thing." She was quite embarrassed. She told me she didn't know her underwear was showing. Then she tried to pull her shirt down. She thanked me for telling her. I don't think I'm going to tell anyone else about their drawers showing. I don't like being the barrier of bad news. Big or small, just be careful when choosing your leggings. Trust me we all can see!
Now on the subway, wishing I had left a little bit earlier. I hate being late. There is a light skinned man sitting catty corner across from me. He sort of reminds me of my boss, but not as manly. There is a short, Carmel complected, man standing by the doors of the subway car. I don't know why people choose to stand when there are plenty of seats available. You should enjoy the seats why you can are my thoughts, but it's his feet and choice. It's pretty quiet besides the sound of the subway cars going over the tracks. The train has made three stops and yet our car isn't filled with people.
I think to myself "I like rides like these." That's when the back door to our car opened.
I don't think I have to inform my readers, that it is illegal to pass from one subway car to another why the train is in motion. I hate that. I don't know why people put their life in danger by doing so. Yet there he was. A skinny, homeless, broke down, tall, dusty, black man, with one eye open, and the other one slightly closed coming through our car. His clothes were filthy. Oddly enough he had on a tie. It wasn't tied. It was just hanging on his neck like a scarf. He held out an empty soda can in his hand, as he started walking down the isle asking people for donations. The train began to speed up and the cars rocked back and forth. The homeless man is now by me with his can. It looked as if he was going to fall directly into my lap. I could feel my eyes grow big and my face begin to frown up something horrible. The homeless guy grabs on to the railing to catch his balance. Once he regained his stance, he passed me and went into the next car.
"Whew, My God.." I would have been too through if that dirty man would have landed in my lap. I could see the man through the windows in the other car. Walking down the isle with his bottle asking for more donations. After a couple of seconds he takes a seat but with in 30seconds he is back in my car.
"Lawd help!" The homeless man is now sitting right next to the light skinned guy I described earlier. We look at each other in silence. Next thing I know. The homeless guy pulls something out of his jacket pocket. I don't know what it is, but something is catching my eye. I look over at the homeless man. He's holding a huge pair of scissors. I watch him examine the scissors in his hands. I promise he looked like he was trying to decide what, or who he wanted to cut first. I was so frightened. My mind begin to race all over the place. Maybe he was going to make alterations to his untied tie? "Be serious" I told myself. This guy is about to go Hannibal Lector on the train. Maybe I should have tried to smile at him instead of frown, but that probably would have still gotten me in trouble.
The man standing by the doors tried not to pay the homeless guy any attention. The guy that was sitting catty corner across from me must have felt the same way I did. He got up and moved to the other end of our subway car, and there I was. STUCK! I didn't want to make any quick movements. That might set him off. Should I reach in my purse, and pull out my mace? Should I yell? I just started praying in my head. "Dear GOD please let me make it to the next stop so I can get off this train. Please don't let this crazy man hurt me! AMEN"
Praise God. I'm still here!!!! I got off at the next stop and hoped right back on the train before the doors could close. I ended up sitting across from the same light skinned dude that had moved from his seat earlier. Before the door could close again, we both saw the homeless man get off the train. We just looked at each other in relief and took one big sigh.
As I was walking to the subway. I noticed on the side of me was a plus sized, African American, woman holding the hand of her young daughter. The little girl looked around five years old and was cute as a button. The mother on the other hand had on black leggings with gold trim a black shirt and gold accessories. She thought she was doing it big, and she might have been. If her bright red underwear wasn't showing through her leggings!
"NOT AGAIN!" I thought to myself. What is this? Why are these women not doing the skin test before they purchase their leggings? They are called leggings because there meant to cover up the leg.
If your going to be wearing a shirt that does not cover your behind, you have to do the skin test! I can not make this any more clear! Most of the leggings are manufactured in China or somewhere of that nature. They probably have much more petite bodies in mind when they are making these leggings. No offense, but how many Asian people do you see with curvy hips, thunder thighs and rump for weeks? (I think I just described myself.) Seriously, if you are a plus size person trying to squeeze in some regular sized leggings. You are going to stretch the fabric more than it is meant to be, and that can lead to trouble in more ways than one. If you pay attention. Some of the labels don't even read
"One size fits all" anymore. It says "One size fits most!" Get plus size leggings. Sure they may cost more, but it may save you some embarrassment in the long run. Don't get me wrong. You still have to do the skin test. Trust me. There are leggings that come in solid, non see through, cotton with a hint of spandex material. Please, Please be aware of colors. Don't be fooled. Just because the color is bright or dark doesn't mean you cant see through them!
Now I have a choice. I can say something to the woman or keep on my marry way. I decide not to say anything, until I notice we were both getting on the same elevator to go to the subway platform. We were the only ones on the elevator. So I asked her. "Do you know your underwear are showing through your leggings? You can see right through them. You have on red underwear. I don't know if you wanted it that way or not. I'm not from here, so I don't know if that's the style here in New York, because I saw another girl do the same thing." She was quite embarrassed. She told me she didn't know her underwear was showing. Then she tried to pull her shirt down. She thanked me for telling her. I don't think I'm going to tell anyone else about their drawers showing. I don't like being the barrier of bad news. Big or small, just be careful when choosing your leggings. Trust me we all can see!
Now on the subway, wishing I had left a little bit earlier. I hate being late. There is a light skinned man sitting catty corner across from me. He sort of reminds me of my boss, but not as manly. There is a short, Carmel complected, man standing by the doors of the subway car. I don't know why people choose to stand when there are plenty of seats available. You should enjoy the seats why you can are my thoughts, but it's his feet and choice. It's pretty quiet besides the sound of the subway cars going over the tracks. The train has made three stops and yet our car isn't filled with people.
I think to myself "I like rides like these." That's when the back door to our car opened.
I don't think I have to inform my readers, that it is illegal to pass from one subway car to another why the train is in motion. I hate that. I don't know why people put their life in danger by doing so. Yet there he was. A skinny, homeless, broke down, tall, dusty, black man, with one eye open, and the other one slightly closed coming through our car. His clothes were filthy. Oddly enough he had on a tie. It wasn't tied. It was just hanging on his neck like a scarf. He held out an empty soda can in his hand, as he started walking down the isle asking people for donations. The train began to speed up and the cars rocked back and forth. The homeless man is now by me with his can. It looked as if he was going to fall directly into my lap. I could feel my eyes grow big and my face begin to frown up something horrible. The homeless guy grabs on to the railing to catch his balance. Once he regained his stance, he passed me and went into the next car.
"Whew, My God.." I would have been too through if that dirty man would have landed in my lap. I could see the man through the windows in the other car. Walking down the isle with his bottle asking for more donations. After a couple of seconds he takes a seat but with in 30seconds he is back in my car.
"Lawd help!" The homeless man is now sitting right next to the light skinned guy I described earlier. We look at each other in silence. Next thing I know. The homeless guy pulls something out of his jacket pocket. I don't know what it is, but something is catching my eye. I look over at the homeless man. He's holding a huge pair of scissors. I watch him examine the scissors in his hands. I promise he looked like he was trying to decide what, or who he wanted to cut first. I was so frightened. My mind begin to race all over the place. Maybe he was going to make alterations to his untied tie? "Be serious" I told myself. This guy is about to go Hannibal Lector on the train. Maybe I should have tried to smile at him instead of frown, but that probably would have still gotten me in trouble.
The man standing by the doors tried not to pay the homeless guy any attention. The guy that was sitting catty corner across from me must have felt the same way I did. He got up and moved to the other end of our subway car, and there I was. STUCK! I didn't want to make any quick movements. That might set him off. Should I reach in my purse, and pull out my mace? Should I yell? I just started praying in my head. "Dear GOD please let me make it to the next stop so I can get off this train. Please don't let this crazy man hurt me! AMEN"
Praise God. I'm still here!!!! I got off at the next stop and hoped right back on the train before the doors could close. I ended up sitting across from the same light skinned dude that had moved from his seat earlier. Before the door could close again, we both saw the homeless man get off the train. We just looked at each other in relief and took one big sigh.
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