sagaciously is...

Bakers Dozen c/o KB via ej.
I wasn't looking to have adventures this weekend...honestly, I was looking to spend a quiet weekend at home, relaxing. But sometimes things just don't go as planned...

1. Dating:: no actual hookups this weekend :-(, but the first order of business: I was surprised with a nomination to be a contestant in Michael Baisden's Minglecity.com Online Dating Game.shameless plug follows: please click here, and vote for Yours Truly to have a shot at a date with theButler (whose profile is also available there.) :-D


2. fridayFollies,partI:: the adventure begins On my way to my Friday night Starbucks ritual, get a call from my boy B, who's at a local Midtown watering hole, getting hooked up with Margerita pitchers, and wants another partner in crime. Although my Operations Management book is calling me, I say WTH, and join him for a drink. Just One. Ok, well maybe two...


3. Mr.Luva-Luva:: there we meet F____, the Guyanese luva, and his female companion S. We vibe a bit on the plight of black people in the African diaspora (sidenote: neva talk about such things when there's a alcohol involved). Two sheets into the wind (unbeknownst to us), F____ declares us cooler than the average Black Americans, and we invite F____ to tag along for the evening's festivities.


4. fridayFollies,partII:: things go awry The second leg of our adventure takes us to B's new fabulous condo. I mean, it's truly gorgeous. As S (F____'s companion) ogles the house, asking the most fabulous question of the night: "so, I don't mean to be ghetto or nuthin', but how much rent are y'all paying up in here?", F____ is trying really hard to convince B's other female friends K and P, along with Me that he's a really cool guy, and Black American Woman are arrogant, agressive and self-centered, but since we're different, we should entertain his advances. His groping, touchy-feely advances. Despite K & P's protests, and my telling F____ to calm the hell down.


5. moment of fabulousness:: during this exchange, B's friend O, on his way to the airport to catch a flight, pulls me aside and stage-whispers in my ear "Who invited Bobby & Whitney over? Ooo, be careful girl - he's gone beat y'all..."


6. the agony & the ecstasy:: B's friend P takes F____'s companion S aside, and asks her if she's F____'s girlfriend, to which she replies "not really - F____ and ___ have a bet at work, to see who's gonna "get" me first. But he's crazy - so I ain't studying him..." We later (after comparing notes) conclude that there was some, er - pharmaceuticals involved.


7. fridayFollies,partIII:: my HUGE clue we take the show on the road again, and head to Harlem Bar. Parking up the street, B & I are plotting on how we can painlessly get rid of F____, without causing too much drama, when Bam!... F____ runs into the back of my truck. me, completely sober now:"Did this kid just hit my truck? Oh no - I know he just did not hit my truck, did he?" Jump out, and inspect the damage: Bessie's (my truck's) rear bumper has taken a huge bite out of F____ front end. Apparently, F____'s sense of space was warped, and in trying to park behind me, he neglected to stop in time. Since Bessie's no worse for the wear, I make F____ move, and we enter the club. He gives me $100 to buy us all drinks to make up for it, and takes a seat.


8. fridayFollies,partIII:: things fall apart since Harlem Bar is a "hotspot", the cosmopolitan crowd is in full force, and the bar is packed. Even though I make it to the bar relatively quickly, it takes a few to put in our drink order. However, as I pick up our drinks, and signal B to come over to help me carry them, I come face to face with two Harlem Bar bouncers:
   ~ bouncerA, gesturing at F____ , who he has in an armlock next to him: ma'am, is he with you?
   ~ me, sighing: Now what did he do?
   ~ bouncerB: he's harassing the patrons, and we're asking him to leave. If he's with you, you're going to have to leave with him.
   ~ me, thinking this is the first time I've been to this spot, and I don't want to make it the last: F____, give me your keys.
   ~ F____, muttering drunkenly: see, I don't know what they're tripping about...I'm not harrasing nobody...I was just telling these young ladies up front how beautiful they are...
   ~ me: F____, I need you to focus. Give. Me. Your Keys. Now.
   F____ hands over the keys, which I give to his original companion S (aside: yes, through all his harrassing other females, she's still there, and I really just want to give her a hug, and tell her she's SO much better than this dude). I also give her F____'s change from the drinks, which was more than enough $$$ to send both of them home in a cab. But just to ensure that she "gets it", I firmly tell her: "here are his keys, and here's cabfare...he's about to get bounced, and my suggestion to you is to send him home in a taxi, pronto." B, K, P and I beat a hasty retreat.


9. and then...:: B, K, P & I join B's friends J and M at Agave, to regroup, and try to enjoy the rest of the evening. Mind you, all this happened before 12pm/ I send S a text message to call me when she gets in, to make sure she makes it home ok.


10. fridayFollies,partIV:: the aftermath the next day, while I'm in class, I get a series of voicemail messages from: S, F____, and F____'s girlfriend. I call S back first - S: "ok, see...I let F____ try to drive home, and he ran into something. So, I hopped out of the car and caught the train home. I'm not sure how he got home, or what he did with the car.." I then call F____, and as his girlfriend rants jealously in the background, I try to direct him back to Harlem Bar, and the vicinity of his car. Three phonecalls later, F____'s cruised most of midtown Atlanta, the car's nowhere to be found, and F____ has decided to give a few tow companies (and the police a call). I'm hoping not to hear from F____ or S again...


11. sistagirl sidenote:: self-esteem sistas - it's not an option. I never met S before Friday nite, but there were dozens of you-need-to-pull-yo-girdle-up-and-realize-your-self-worth moments. And I couldn't chalk it up to age (she's in her 30's) or maturity or the alcohol (she wasn't that tipsy, and neither was I). Self-assurance people - it's a must-have, not an alternative.


12. but back to the fabulousness:: what are you still doing here? Go - Vote Now! You know I've gotta be the most fabulous of all these candidates...lol. Ok, I think you have to be a member to vote, but it's free, open to both Married and Single folks, and then you're notified when Michael Baisden has social events or networks in your local area, and you can listen the shows online.