Crickets and Hay: Survival of the Fittest

“The question isn't "what are we going to do," the question is "what aren't we going to do?" Ferris Bueller’s Day Off

Ticket …check. 

Hotel room…check. 

Home girls…check. 

Alma mater classic game…check. 

A possible life threatening experience…well shit…tops off a simply priceless weekend!

Let me give you the background story. This is the tale of three friends, Sharyon, Melissa, and me.  Yes I will name them directly because if I have this story on my head…so shall they.  LOL. The planning for a girlfriend meet up in Atlanta started months ago.  My undergrad, Florida A&M University *throws strike* was playing the Atlanta Classic against Southern University. A school we haven’t played in years, so it created the perfect excuse to go to Atlanta and reenact our college years. Yes? Yes,

Don’t you judge me.  Please don’t act like you don’t try to recreate those college years every now and then.  ESPECIALLY if you’re over 30 and the reality of being old(er) has jumped up and smacked you in the head.  And in Atlanta?  Like what a perfect way to dodge reality than to shoot down to the land of false pretenses. (okaaay cheap shot at ATL but yall know I’m telling the truth. EVERYBODY isn’t balling like they claim to be down there…and we’ll just leave it at that)

But I digress, back to my tale of debauchery. So…off to Atlanta we run go.  Now, the first night we get there….we weren’t soooo successful in disguising our age. LOL. We just could not get it together to go out. Hey, man it happens.  Thus, we all agreed we would definitely go out on Saturday. And that nothing…NOTHING would deter us.  Nothing you ask? Nothing, I say.  No. Thing.

So the next day, we gather ourselves…we go.  And the game was awesome. We won (just in case you were curious).  After the game, we made plans to go back to the hotel and head out to the party.  Now this party was a ways away from our hotel….and when I mean a ways I mean….well…far. BUT we had a plan, *ahaaaa* we’d take the train there, and then we’d take a cab back. The directions appeared close to the MARTA stop and hell, we’re New Yorkers and we’re not afraid to walk. So off we go….

Now if you’re smart this is where you’re probably saying… “This is where it all goes wrong right?” ….and you would be…well…right.

All's well that ends well on the MARTA…although please note: ATL’s crazies somehow missed the memo about “no means no”….but that’s a whole nutha story.

Let me lay this out for you, many mistakes were made, and made quickly:

#1: We get off the Marta and walk in the wrong direction.

#2: Once that was realized, we didn’t turn around and retrace our steps.

#3:  Someone said….and I won’t name any names “From the map, we look equidistant from the location, we may as well keep up this street”…we should have NEVER…NEVER …listened to that person. Period.  Okay….that person was me. I mean but who knew??? Who. Knew. 

Imagine this: It’s a dark and chilly night.  Three beautiful ladies are walking down the street. And when I say beautiful, I mean we were decked out. No business on the street. In the country.  Walking.

Did I say walking? 

 But there we were. Walking down the side walk.  It’s a little darker than necessary….I mean, if you live in Georgia you may want to call your officials about your lack of street lights….not safe. Not safe at all. (*side eye*)   And low and behold, the sidewalk disappears.   You may wonder what I mean by disappears? Hmmm? Like runs out.  Vanishes.  No longer cease to exist.  It’s almost like the street worker said… “Maaaaaan…fuck that sidewalk. I quit. Don’t nobody need to walk any further” (yes double negative because that’s just how ignorant it was!).

Siggghhhh, I hate quitters.  A little something you should know about me, since we’re sharing and all….

Okay, so this is where ppl with common sense would turn around right? Right? You know you want to say it. Ha.

HELL NO! Didn’t I just say I hate quitters?

Friends….I can call y’all friends right?  Listen, have you ever been determined to do something so bad that all common sense eludes you? That no matter how much you know you shouldn’t, the urge is buried so deep under your ridiculous need to be out that you simply still do it anyway?

No not you? Oh ok. Well, back to the story… 

So, someone says and again I shan’t name any names, “I think we can walk through the parking lot of that shopping plaza and end up on the other side”. <<< Makes sense right???? Hell yeah it does!!!!! *Hi fives*

Umm yeah, makes sense to a person would have….how can I say this delicately…..FINISHED THE EFFIN SIDE WALK!!!!!!

So we get to the other side and guess what?? Yeah…you got it. No sidewalk…

You’re probably having a nice little chuckle here perhaps with a tad bit of judgment…like ohhh simple New Yorkers, trying to walk everywhere….

Well don’t cry for me Argentina…

Hmmph…wait until later because yup…it gets worse. Lol

Not only does the sidewalk run out and doesn’t continue…we are now on a highway…or the exit of the highway.  So yeah, the sidewalk doesn’t just run out….THE STREET RUNS OUT TOO!

Come on man….now listen I’m not mad at the South. Really, my people are from the south.  *Tennessee stand up!* But come THEE fuck on!!!! REALLY?????

Around this time I’m saying to myself, perhaps out loud.  How. Did. We. Get. Here.

Here as in walking single file line…on the side of the highway… cars are blowing their horns…and it smells like…like…like crickets and hay….

Kind of awful right? Pah….it gets worse…

There’s a break in the field….we get off the highway. 

*At this point we’re too far gone to turn around. And honestly, it’s not even about the party anymore. It’s the muthaeffin principle.  Shit, we’re damn near singing “we shall overcome”.  THE MAN WON’T KEEP US DOWN!  People unite! *throws fist in air* *

So we climb in the pasture. I’m slightly nervous…ticks are real….says my momma. Hey man, she lives in the country…anything country and she’s like an encyclopedia on that shit. Trust.  Anyway, it’s kind of like we’re hiking. I mean, like there’s no reeeeaaaal clear path, kind of like uncharted land.  And then just like that, BAM, we’re there. It was like….finding water in the desert….like we followed the North Star and reached the promise land. The utopia. We made it.    

Yeah I know, you expected some exciting tale like a snake jumping out at us or I wrestled a deer or some Daniel Boone isht like that.  Nope.  Just the club.  We made it.  Kind of like when Harold and Kumar made it to white castle. The sweet reward when all was lost. 

But making it isn’t the point of this story.  The point of this story is about the endurance of a struggle.  The want, the need, and the drive of three friends.  The power of friendship and sticking together (even after Melissa ran past us like a freed slave) <<left that out cause I’m no dry snitcher….

Now, the big question, was it worth it?

 Eeeeeh?

Did we party like it was??

HELL YEAH WE DID!!!!

And that’s really all that matters right? ;-)

Get involved.

Double Feature Friday: A Healthy Dose of Reality...

“We must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us.” Joseph Campbell

As a little girl you spend your nights daydreaming about your wedding, especially if you were a child like me, who grew up watching Days of our Lives and Young and the Restless (those shows had a big wedding every season).  You knew exactly what kind of dress you wanted, how many bridesmaids, the song you’ll dance to, and perhaps what you’ll say for your vows.  And it didn’t stop there; you knew how old you’d be when you got married, when you’d have your first child, how many kids you would have and their first AND middle names.

I wanted to have 7 kids in total.  Yes. 7. And they were all fully named.  (You can stop laughing now; yes I do realize it would be virtually impossible for me to have 7 kids at this age: totally pipe dream)  But to make it worse I guarded those names like the KFC secret recipe.  I’ve only shared those names with two people and every time those two have a kid, I never EVER offer up one of my names. And I would be hot to muthaeffin trot if they even attempted to take a name.  YES ALL 14 of them!

Don’t judge me….it is what it is.

So it goes without saying, things, clearly, didn’t end up as I planned ESPECIALLY since I am now 35, ring-less and baby-less.  I mean this baby making machine was supposed to be doing its last hurrah at 35.  Some thing that makes me chuckle, because really, did I think I would be ready for the kit and caboodle before now? 

That. Would. Be. A. Negative.

So it made me think, am I even ready now?

I had a conversation with a friend the other day, and she mentioned, she didn’t think she was ready to be married.  At first, I said “Whaaaaaaa?! No ma’am I totally am!!” (Said that with conviction)  Like sign me up on THAT dotted line.   Recruit me and use me.  I’m yours if you want me.  Just ask me and I’m….what? Ready! 

But then I thought about it.  And thought about it. Slept on it. Annnnnnnnd thought some more.

Am I ready to be……*gulp*...married? Am I ready to put someone else’s needs in front of my own?  Care about their feelings? Wants? Desires? To….day?

*crickets , crickets*

I’d have to answer resounding no.

Whoooooa ….

No? No? ….siggghhhh….NO.

I’m way to selfish right now.  I like my space. I want my space.  Hell, I can’t even sleep in the bed with another person….they sleep…I lay awake.

Btw, married and couple friends, when do you ever adjust to that? Because really???  *side eye*

  

Honestly, the thought of going from single…to married…seems very jarring.  I mean, I’ve been single for like…..EVER hehehe….hard to imagine it otherwise. And the challenge seems daunting, to go from everything being about me, to everything being about us, to (when we have kids) everything being about……them?

I. Can’t. Even. Go. There.

While, I do know I WANT marriage, but wanting and being ready to accept are too different things. Yes?

Okay okay okay, you know maybe my thought process is off…like someone is saying “Chile, crawl before you walk right?” Like a sista doesn’t even have a man and you’re talking about marriage! Hahahahaha!  So perhaps to know if I’m ready, I would need to be dating, have a groom, and be in love…blah blah blah blah…(minor details)

Maybe the question isn’t, am I ready to be married?  The question may be, am I ready to start the process? Actively date?

I mean I’d like to say I’m dating, but I’m not.  Not because I’m not going on dates. (ummm cause I’m noooot?) BUT I don’t even think I’ve even actively tossed my hat in the ring.  I think I’m standing on the outside in the cheering section….Like I’m AT the game, but I’m not IN the game. BIGGGG DIFFERENCE!

I need to get in the game.

Eff that.  I AM getting in the game.

So well, let’s make this official, I,  Nika, hereby proclaim, I am officially entering my name in draft.

I mean, what’s the worst that can happen eh?

*on second thought…don’t answer that*

Double Feature Friday: Dude Say What???

“Maybe some women aren't meant to be tamed. Maybe they just need to run free til they find someone just as wild to run with them.” Sex and the City

Want to get under my skin? One simple question will do it EVERY time. 

“Why are you single?” 

Arrrrggghhhhh! Talk about nails on a chalkboard! Dude like what you mean “why am I single?” If I knew…then…….???? Because the assumption has already been made that I don’t want to be single, no?  So if I knew why I wasn’t, wouldn’t I rectify and… ummmm ….fix? Like really? REALLY? 

I mean let’s just get down to the core of this, why do people really ask that question? Do they really want to know the answer?  They can’t. 

Strangely, it still throws me off when people ask that.  Now either I’m like “Wooow, people still ask that question?”  or I’m like “Qooooow, why haven’t I come up with a question for this crap yet?” but never am I like “Wooooow, good question” << Because. It. Is. Not.

NOT.

NOT.

NOT .

One day I’m going to come up with a very witty answer and use it every time, I promise (and I’m open to suggestions, I know yall have some zingers our there lol).

You know what? Let this be a P.S.A….PLEASE STOP NOW!  I beg of you. Because the truth is, it doesn’t make single women feel great.  It’s not a compliment, no matter how you think it is.  It’s pointless…baseless…reckless even.  Instead let’s just use that little bit of time to ask me something more relevant, like……. for my number perhaps.

K?

Year 35: The Progressive Movement

“Growing old is mandatory; growing up is optional” unknown

                                     

Okay so it’s not a big secret that I turned the big 3-5 this past weekend, lol partially because I don’t believe in keeping my birthday a secret! I mean I suppose out of respect for my grandmother (who believed no respectable woman should tell her age) I will eventually stop telling my age, but right now I’m 35 and proud of it! 

As a matter of fact, my birthday just so happens to be my favorite holiday of the year!!! Yes I said holiday! It truly is one in my mind.  To quote my dear friend Ant T…It’s called  "A Day". And I’ll take it a step further. “A week"… “A month".  Basically, it’s a celebration b*tches!!!!!!!!!!!!

No really.  I’ve always loved my birthday, and as I get older that love intensifies. I mean when I reflect on all of my peers who didn’t get to make it to 35, it’s just humbling.  To celebrate my birthday is to really truly appreciate the life God has given me.  So because of that, this weekend I found myself reflecting on me and my thoughts of getting older.   (Yes in New Orleans, I was thinking….alcohol can have that effect sometimes hehehe)

**Now y'all know, I grapple with getting too personal on this blog, but today I will make an exception just this one time ;-) ***

 Last year was a good year, but not an easy year.  Not only did I have family struggles and financial struggles, but I felt like I was emotionally unraveling.  Already an emotional and sensitive person, these “new” emotions were simply out of control.  Like has anyone ever felt like that?  Like things were spiraling out of control and all you could do was buckle in for the ride.  Yup, that was me.  An out of control, emotional broke mess. 

You know, my mind is a different entity.  It has a complete operating system of its own.  Sometimes it can create scenarios, situations, and emotions all on its own accord.  You see I’m an over thinker, yup, a classic Leo trait, and everything, anything, or nothing at all can send me on an emotional roller coaster.  It’s a side of me that up until recently I completely despised.  I say up until recently, because I only just decided to embrace it.  I’m over taking parts of myself and picking them apart and making them the enemy.  They’re great all on their on…favorable AND not so favorable traits.  Right? But hell why stop there?  This weekend I mentally created a list of things I learned about myself at 34, that I will stay mindful of at 35.  Because you know what, no matter how hard things seemed, how bad you think they were, how shady you think you’re hand was dealt, things could have certainly been worse.  And there is a lesson in everything. EVERYTHING.  It’s really all about perspective right?  So here’s my list of 34 things I learned at 34.  Feel free to add to the list in the comments. 

34 Things I Learned At 34:

1. I’ve been tremendously blessed, even if the blessing comes by way of an unrecognizable vehicle.
2. No matter how hard things may seem they can always be worse, as a matter fact. I’ve seen them get worse yet understand that it can get worse than that.
3. I’m stronger and more resourceful than what I realize.
4. Although I don’t have everything I want, I most certainly have everything I need.
5. I’ll never let anyone or anything make me feel less than or not worthy.
6. Although I hold on to these extra 30 pounds like a security blanket, that doesn’t make me any less beautiful than when I was without the extra layer ;-)
7. Beauty REALLY is more than appearance
8. Settling for mediocrity gets you nowhere.
9. To get different results you really have to shake things up.
10. And although after shaking things up I still didn’t get the results I wanted, at least I wasn’t in the same place I was a year ago.
11. Progress really is a good thing. Stop looking for the final answer, just enjoy the progress.
12. If I don’t truly love myself, how can I expect others to, and more importantly how I will I be able to ascertain when others do. 
13. Comparing myself to others is absolutely ridiculous and will get me no where.  Especially since blessings are individually tailored.
14. Nothing is more important than being true to you.
15. I should always try to be a really great and genuine friend, but yet recognize that still means I won’t be the perfect friend.
16. I am flawed, and it’s okay to accept that. 
17. No matter how hard I like someone, a relationship that don’t make.
18. And just because they don’t equally feel the same, that’s ok.  Some people like pineapples, some people don’t…that doesn’t make pineapples less tasty.
19. Sometimes it’s all about the recovery not necessarily the fall or what caused the fall.
20. Not everything has to be internalized.  You should leave some things right where they are.
21. People are more enticed by a genuine me than a manufactured me.
22. Not everyone is supposed to “get” me and its okay. I’m unique. I’m not for everyone.
23. Happiness is a state of mind not to be influenced by external factors
24. You can’t make anybody like you. Either they do or they don’t.
25. I shouldn’t have to convince you to like me. Either you do or your don’t
26. Number 26 is completely different from 25
27. Don’t confuse being alone with being lonely. Being alone has its benefits.
28. I’m emotional and I won’t make excuses for it.
29. As a matter of fact, I won’t make ANY excuses for who I am, make the effort to get to know me or keep it moving.
30. Some shit just isn’t that hard.
31. Although my biological clock is ticking, I won’t let desperation make decisions for me. I’ll wait for the right one at the right time.
32. Not everyone will celebrate you, with you, or for you….so what who cares, celebrate yourself and by yourself. One monkey don’t stop no show.
33. People come into your life and leave your life for many reasons, I’ve learned when to accept them and when to let them go.
34. I will set my own standard of beauty.

What are yours?

The Curious Case of the Habitual Home girl

“You know we all lookin’ for wifey material,  a woman that’s fine, smart, classy but not a snob.  Hella hella sexy but not a hoe, that’s brown sugar” Brown Sugar

***First let me say, I’ve been slow blogging because I was trying to find topics to blog that weren’t so…well…personal.  But eff it.  My blog..my life…shit’s personal.  Enjoy. LOL***

So there’s no secret I really love the movies “Just Wright” and “Brown Sugar”.  Not because they’re beautifully written or because of the stellar acting *side eye* I just really love the story lines.  Yes, Yes sappy as it may be….they have the potential to be beautiful love stories, you know once you get over the acting…the over acting…the…lack. of. acting.  Anywho, never mind that, the point is, I can relate to the story of the main characters.

Okay let me back up, here’s a little unknown/known fact about me: I’m a guy’s girl (and a girl’s girl, don’t want yall to think I’m that chick lol). But it’s a role I love and quite frankly revel in BUT it comes with very specific downfalls.  Quite frankly to be honest that shit doesn’t always work to your benefit.

I mean, let’s be real, personality wise, I’m cool as a fan.  I’m laid back (for the most part, I mean I have my hint of crazy like every chick, but that’s another post for another day).  I love to hang out. I’m from Cleveland, so you know I can drink with the best of them.  I don’t have an issue with strip clubs, so I’ve found myself at some Miami’s finest (I mean as fine as hood clubs can be). I like football. I love hip hop. I love hood music and can have a conversation about it.

Now, sounds good right?  That would be a negative.

Why is that?  I mean shouldn’t that be like my “dating resume”? Like who wouldn’t want to date a girl like me? The perfect girlfriend right?

Correction:  THE PERFECT HOMIE! Or and this is a direct quote “THE PERFECT HOMEGIRL”

Somewhere there is a fine line…and I have crossed it.  And trust there are some days that I say eff it.  I am who I am and one day someone will view this as an asset.  Buuuuut there are some days that I tell myself  “I have to break out of this box.” 

I can’t be stuck in the “homegirl box” forever.  I mean really? I poo poo on that box. EFF that box. That box can kick rocks. I’m bigger than that box…..sorry…I went on a tangent.  But just so you know, I’m real passionate about that mofo box.

So what’s the alternative?  Because I’ve been given tons of “sage” advice on how to break out of being the “home girl”.…from getting contacts, to wearing heels (daily), to wearing makeup, annnnd even once someone told me to be more dainty and light (like what the hell does that mean???? Oh not like that huh? lol)

Assuming it’s a bad thing, you know being the “homegirl’, how do you not be or become the home girl?  The reason I say “assuming” is that I personally thought being the “homegirl” was a good thing.  But then again I would.  I.AM.THE.HOME GIRL LOLOL  <<I crack myself up sometimes. 

But really? Let’s just entertain this for a bit. Am I delusional to thinking most men would want to be homies with their girlfriends? Is that a wild assumption to make?  Do they only want to be “boyfriends”? Where’s the fun in that?  Yall know my views on being besties with the one you love.  So……what makes a girl the perfect home girl and not the perfect girlfriend?

Maybe it’s the flirt to hang ratio?  Like maybe I hang more than I flirt so therefore there’s room to be ambiguous.  Perhaps I should up the flirt, and less the hang?  More giggle and less guffaw?  More sipping less guzzling?  More arm strokes and less high fives?  More elusiveness and less transparency?

Yeah. That’s it perhaps my ratios are off.  Perhaps...

But excuse me if I say, none of that sounds fun.  Don’t get me wrong, I flirt in my own way (which I guess if no one gets it, it should probably  be re-evaluated hahahaha)  but I just have a hard time not being real-in every regard.  AND I refuse to put on airs…often times all I really want to do is just have a good time anyway.  You see, I’m more of a “let’s just hang and kick it” kind of girl.  And when it’s all said and done, I guess I’ll just have to find a guy to match that. 

Yeah that’s it.  Efff it.  You know what, I’ll just take that home girl title and hold it AND own it.  Someone will appreciate it. I’m certain of that.

Right? Right? Riggggghhhhht? Right.

Once Upon A Time...

....In a land full of grit and dirt...there were two enemies preparing for a stand off.  Unbeknownst to the pure one on the side of good, she was soon to have an encounter with darkness.  Pay close attention:

It was a shortly after 6:30, the clouds were rolling in and being that I left my umbrella at home, I was in a rush to beat the storm.  I had just switched from the 1 train to the 2 train.  I jumped on the train, I scanned, assessed, and found a seat (proper protocol procedures) Now, during my exploration I noticed a seat…in the corner.  Now normally a girl like me avoids these corner seats by all means necessary!  I call them love seats.  They're small and crammed and since I firmly, firmly believe that those seats are reserved as a sacred nesting place for dirt, filth, and all things gritty, I stay far far far far faaaaar away.  BUT again, its rush hour, a person just got up and so I sat.  Priorities! And my feet were screaming “give us, us free” but I digress.

But just like Murphy ’s Law says…anything that can go wrong will INDEED go wrong.

Picture this (a dramatic reenactment):

*CUE HOMELESS DRUNK*

“ATTENTION EVERYBODY….Can youuuusssss help a brother out”

I look up, slightly annoyed, barely paying attention and something caught my eye…Wait, what is that I see…is that a…

*Turns directly to me* “A QUARTER WILL DO...”

And in all of my horror…it happened!

They shot in the air…one by one like pellets of poison. Each one on a mission… scattering in the wind searching for their prey. Using their ability to fragment, to distract and disarm me.  Touching my delicate skin with a fire like burn of the sting of a bee.

What you ask? SPIT! Oh yes…spit…out of his mouth. His very own M.O.U.T.H.

I Gasped.

I screamed

I yelled out

I grab my things..

OH   MY   GOD!

He’s startled. He looks appalled that I’m appalled. He mumbles a sorry and scurries in to the sea of people.

Me, I’m hysterical.  I’m certain my heart skipped several beats leaving me woozy.  My mind starts racing. Where did it land? There were so many of them. What shall I quarantine?  Is it in my purse? My wrap? My…my…dear God, sweet Jesus….not. near. my. FACE. 

I look around, trying to connect with the people around me.  I want to ask them. Did you see it? Where did it go???? Do you know???

I’m almost hyperventilating. This can’t be happening, can it?  I look to my left and my seat partner is staring at me. She feels me...I think?  Her eyes says she understands. But does she??

At this point I’m in autopilot.  Mouth: clamps shut (you know to seal all entry) Hands: frantically searching for something…anything to wipe and disinfect.  Eyes: near tears  Legs: ready to run Heart: soon to explode

In my search, I find a receipt.  I grab it I use it to wipe my arm, my hand, my bag in a frenzy. I’m frazzled. Dazed even.

Now, have you ever had something traumatic happen to you that make people nearby take pity? Like in their eyes you can tell they’re relieved it wasn't them, but feel really sorry for you?  That was my seat mate. She gently reached in her bag and pulled out the holiest holy of grails (lol)…..hand sanitizer *cue the sounds of the pearly gates*.  And then watched me bathe from head to toe in it.  Hey man, it's not a game out there...

In fact, It’s me against them.  I’m certain of that now. There’s nothing that can tell me otherwise.  Them...me…we. are. archenemies.  They’re out for my demise…and with people like that around you…nothing. You hear me…nothing good can come from that.  It was only a matter of time before we crossed paths.

  

Let me tell you my friends today was an assault of epic proportions. Yes, worst than the time that saxophone player shot spit on my arm…worse than the crazy threatening to kick my ass…and yes worse than the time I slipped and my hand touched the ground.  Epic I tell you.  We need to spread the word fast…so that others will never ever have to go through what I went through. Listen to me carefully and please TAKE HEED…

FUCK THOSE CORNER SEATS!

CRAZIES: 1 Nika: 0

They’re killin’ me out here yall…killin’ me…

*fades to black*

Got me worried, stressin, my vision's blurried
The question is will I live? No one in the world loves me
I'm headed for danger, don't trust strangers

                                                                                      Tupac

  

Brooklyn Dodger

“Where you can't put your vest away and say you'll wear it tomorrow
Cause the day after we'll be saying, damn I was just with him yesterday” Jay-Z

The duck and dodge is real in New York. You have the debilitating cost of living, the hazardous conditions of city living, arduous commutes, or even the pollution and All of that is a daily struggle, yet THAT isn’t even the dodge I’m referencing.  

What I’m talking about is the fact that crazy can come an inch from you and tap you on your shoulder, graze your arm…close enough to kiss you…ooooor stab you, all depending on the mood.   I mean let’s be real, the duck and dodge is real in this city. You MUST stay on the good foot at all times.   There’s no such thing as letting your guard down EVER.  Even when you look relaxed you still have your side eye-the good one on alert.  ALWAYS.

Buuuut yet in still, there’s that one, the slickest of slick, that every now and then gets past your ever so guarded personal space.  The one that somehow manages to permeate your safe space in a way that you never saw coming.  And this perhaps can happen, once a day? Maybe twice?  Yeah I know you’re like, Whooooa Nik, I thought you were on the good foot? How in the H - E - double hockey sticks can one get past you twice a day. 

Easily.

One or two is average on a good day.....when you have dodged…well over 2 dozen incidents!

Hmmph! Just last week a pigeon struck my cheek (yes it went from brushed to “struck”!)  And then a rat grazed my toe running into a building.  AND don’t get me started on the homeless man whose toes touched my very own toes…

TOUCHED MY TOES WITH HIS TOES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Is nothing sacred????? 

And this morning was no different, unfortunately for me.  Picture this: I’m late. (no comments from the peanut gallery) and as I wade through the murky crowd of some of Crown Heights finest (insert sarcasm here).  I jump on the express train trying to catch the local (amateurs, don’t try this…only for professionals lol) , low and behold, what’s on my train?  A crazy. 

Not a “Class A” crazy, those are easy to spot and, consequently, to avoid.  It was more like a “Class C”.  You know the ones, that you think are sane but something seems off?  Like they have a tick? A mumble? Maybe they start a conversation and no one’s really around?  Winter clothes in the summer?  Sleep just a little TOO hard on the train, kind of like deep bedroom sleep?  Make up looks like a 5 year old did it?  A slight urine-esque smell?  Wig not quite on straight?  Yeah those are “Class C” crazies. 

Now in case you were wondering, “Class B” turns it up a bit, like louder than the norm.  Just kicks it up a notch.  And “Class A”, no explanation needed, you’ll see them coming a mile away.

Anywho, “Class C” was on the train. I jumped on, claimed my seat like “MINE!” Sat down and surveyed the scene.  Yes, I know backwards.  Usually I survey, claim, sit.  But today I was tired, late, and well…shit, why am I fronting, I wanted the seat okay? 

So I survey the scene…normal guy.  But he had a slight tick. He kept cracking his neck.  And when he looked at me, he had the,what I call, “crazy in the eye” look.  You know very glazy, look at you but not AT you? Yep, that look.  So he’s looking crazy in the eye.  And he’s writing in this book.  Now in between writing, he would crack his head, look around (with the crazy eye) and then continue writing frantically.  So you know me…still surveying the scene…I look at the book, juuuuuust to see what he was writing.

Man listen…it’s all good until you find what you’re looking for and realize you didn’t want to find it? SMH!

This book looked like some shit from a movie….numbers.  Just numbers.  Equations maybe? Counting maybe? But EVERY inch had numbers in it. EVER-Y INCH!!!!!

Sir.

What .

Are.

You .

Calculating??????

As A Matter of fact….

NEVER

MIND

*grabs things and exits stage left*

(blogger note: Sorry for the long delay in posts…I really didn’t think through a schedule once I started having script deadlines.  I will try to be more consistent going forward….(hopefully) )