The Fat Black Pussy Cat Cont..

I'm on my way to 230 Fifth roof tar bar to meet Kema. I took an early shuttle and now I'm on the train. I can't recall what the man next to me looked like, but he had on soo much cologne my sinus began to start up. Auuugghh... I hate when people let their perfume/cologne wear them. Have you ever passed someone on the street, and after you pass them; consequently you can still smell them ten minutes later? There is literally a trail of their scent left behind. Of course I'm sneezing and blowing my nose at this point because my sinuses are irritated. I hear the subway door car open as the train is still moving. I look up and there is a African American man, who looked to be in his mid thirties, standing there with a case of various stale looking candy. Old bags of M&M's, Starburst, Snickers, etc. In a loud voice he said
"Get your candy, help out the youth. A dollar a bar is all it takes."
Then he repeated that phrase two more times. Once in Spanish and again in broken English and then he said "SHABA" really loud. Everybody just looked at him and no one budged to buy a single bar. He then went to the next car giving the same speech. Five more stops to go before I get to my destination, and now there are five, young, rude and loud youth in the car I'm in. Male and female youth talking entirely too loud, so everybody could here there conversation. Cussing and carrying on, and conversing about all the fights they've gotten into this year. Using the "N" word like it's the proper thing to do. I was so irritated by them I wanted to move to another car. Finally it's my stop and I can escape the subway madness for the time being.

I arrive at 230 Fifth, and in my opinion it's the most beautiful roof tar bar in Manhattan. The view is magnificent and the atmosphere is lively. It's generously spacious, and if you don't want to be outside you can always go inside to the club/lounge area and sit on the beautiful, bright, red furniture. Hot pink, green and blue lights illuminate the room decor. My only complaint is the elevator doesn't take you all the way up to the roof, and the menu is a tad bit on the pricey side. Kema order a regular pepsi; which was $6, and a small serving of french fries at $7. I got the pineapple coconut martini at $14 and lamb tea sandwiches for $12. Total bill $40.69 and that doesn't include the tip or the drink Kema had before I got there! Needless to say after our drinks were gone so were we. We went on to Taj Lounge. A nice spacious club that gets overly crowded once midnight arrives. We got there early so we could get in for free. That's right NYC does have some freebies if you know where to look and what to sign up for. Apparently there was a mix up. To our surprise, our names weren't on the VIP/get in free list, and we had to pay to get in. Kema was not happy about that. We were also supposed to get two free drinks at the bar, but was told we needed tickets that we knew nothing about. Kema tried to find out what had gone wrong but the staff gave her the run around; which caused Kema to get a major attitude. "OK, let me handle it." I told her. I spoke to a 350lbs African American bouncer who had flirted with me earlier at the entrance. He pointed me in the direction of the manager. I spoke with the manager, and I walked away with six drink tickets in my hand and an professional apology.

The DJ spun music from the early 90's to the present. Sticking to the hip hop and rap genre. People were dancing wildly and some doing nasty moves as if they should have been in a hotel room. I danced with a tall African American guy who looked to be in his mid 20's. He wasn't cute, but wasn't too ugly either. He asked me if he could take me out to dinner sometime. I don't know why I said yea. When I really meant no. I just don't know how to mean to people. Now he's been calling me for over three weeks, and I have yet to take his call. Don't judge me! LOL. It was soo crowded and hot Kema and I headed towards the bar for a water. $5 for a $1 bottle of water. That's more than what the airport charges. The Money you will pay for convenience is astounding at times. After awhile Kema and I got tired of people bumping into us on the dance floor, and decided to call it a night. It was time to go get something to eat.

My friend, we'll call her "T" for short joined me at a diner. The food wasn't good. As a matter of fact I had to send mine back. The entertainment on the other hand was. Behind me sat two Caucasian women who were in their late 30's. They had been to a club and one of them had way to much to drink. The sober lady who had blond hair and bright red lipstick spoke to me. She informed me that she only goes out to bars and clubs about 3-4 times a year. Her drunken friend sat there; with her head laid in her plate of cheese fries half sleep; had begged her to come out. The lady told me that her friend was fine just a minute ago. As a matter of fact her drunken, brunette, friend had driven them to the diner. The brunette then got up wobbly in her stance and ran to the bathroom. She returned to the table 20 minutes later.

About 15 minutes passed and a loud rowdy group of about ten walked through the door. They were male and female of European decent. All look to be under the age of 25 years. They were seated in the back. Not even five minutes passed before you heard a loud BOOM. Next thing you know the cops were being called. One of the guys had broken something that belong to the restaurant along with his hand. Half of the their group split before the cops would arrive. I had seen enough for the night I was ready to go home. My sweet tooth was calling so I got a piece of carrot cake to take with me. On the way to the car I almost step in a pile of pink puke that was not there before. Undoubtedly it belonged to the drunken brunette who left before we did.

As I took the train back to the shuttle bus I noticed a woman staring at me. Wouldn't you know it she was plus sized. I shifted my gaze to something else, but when it returned she was still staring at me. She then rolled her eyes so hard at me. I believe it had to hurt. I began to wonder if she knew me because she kept rolling them. Next thing I knew she is whispering to a brown skin man seated next to her. He looked to be he gay friend. They both stared at me and then laughed. I looked passed them and then away from them but I could still see this lady from my side view rolling her eyes at me. Needless to say I got off at the next stop and switched to a different train. It may seem extreme but I'm starting to think NYC is the capitol for CRAZY and I'm just not willing to risk it!

Until next time. Readers stay safe and upbeat!!!

The Fat Black Pussy Cat

One of my friends told me that a person has to almost kill you; for you to get some justice. That a damn shame. I have much more important things to accomplish. I refuse to stay dwelling on the past, or demons and wolves disguise in sheep's clothing. What man cant handle, God will. So thank all of you who sent me cards, voice mails, emails and text messages and who called about my last posting. With that said, I have much to tell and will do my best to fit in in one post.

I went out of town last weekend to visit my mother, which was absolutely wonderful! Consequently the bus I took down there had sick people on it, and NO it wasn't Grey Hound. The young, nice looking, black, man that sat next to me breath stunk so bad I could smell it through his closed lips. The girl on the other side of me coughed, sneezed and blew her nose. Thus this past week I was sick with a cold and am late with my posting. Below is what I have noticed and did in the past following weeks.

Trips on the bus and subway are always so interesting. You see and hear some of the most bizzar and uncomfortable things. Lately I have been noticing a lot of females especially black, plus size, women staring at me and rolling their eyes. I'm not sure if my face look like a special, dark, brownie with nuts and icing, or if I just look that damn interesting. I'm serious every time I go out on the weekends women are staring and cutting their eyes at me like I've stolen something from them. I hate to say this but sometime my own people really get on my last nerve. I mean these big Bitches up here in NYC were clowning these past weekends.

My best friend, lets call her Kema for privacy sake. We had gone out a week before to a place known as The Fat Black Pussy Cat. A totally awesome place. A lot of people come here after work for the happy hour. They have Martinis to die for. The chicken wings are good, but not hot/spicy enough for me. Anyhow It's a three level bar/lounge/club, decked out in antique to modern time furniture. I definitely have to go back we had a blast. It was here that we decided we were going to kick it hard the next weekend because she was returning home to Germany. So we vowed to go out Friday, Saturday and even Sunday of the next week if we had the energy. Club hopping, restaurants and drinking it would be.

Next weekend is here and the subway lines are still being worked on over the weekends. My devoted readers know that means you have to take the shuttle bus part of the way to get to your destination. There I was sitting on a non-crowded, MTA, shuttle bus. I was cute as ever with my dress, makeup and hair looking soo right. I was anticipating a great night out; when this plus sized, black women, with dingy dread locks, gets on the shuttle. She had on a MTA worker shirt with blue work pants; which meant she's an employee of the Metropolitan transportation Authority. Honestly she looked like a lesbian, but you cant tell who is and who's not these days. She had a black bag on wheels with her. Instead of putting her luggage in the luggage rack and taking a seat, she put the bag right in front of me. Then she stood in front of the bag facing me with her legs spread apart like a damn man! I was thinking what the F#*% is wrong with this lady? I cleared my throat a couple of times but she didn't budge. I looked up at this woman, and she was looking down at me like I was going to be her midnight snack. To say I was uncomfortable would not even cover it! Thank God! A handicap person got on the bus. The MTA woman had to move her fat ass so the wheel chair could fit!

Oddly it didn't stop there. My best friend "Kema" and I arrived at Club Soiree ready to party. The female security guard started right in on me. Asking me all type of questions. "Are you gay or straight?, do you have a husband?, are you single?, do you live by yourself?, can you cook?, do you like to clean?"
"Damn!"I thought to myself. "Men don't even approach me like this. This lady is bold as hell. What is it tonight with the plus size, black women, in uniform?" I replied to her. "yes I'm straight. No, I'm not married. I wish I was. Single yes, and cooking and cleaning I do myself."
She then replied on how nice I looked. I told her thank you, and she needed to be with someone total opposite from her because opposites attract. She smiled at me and then told me to turn around because she had to frisk me before I could enter the club. As I stood there with my backside facing her she said in a loud voice "DAMN!" All I could do was laugh and shake my head.

Club Soiree was a nice huge club with three different levels. Kema and I kicked it and I didn't get home till 6am. The next night It would be drinks at the Best Roof top bar in NYC, etc etc. Stay tuned for the rest of the adventure..