Monday, January 3, 2011

A Night in Cleveland

         I haven't had much contact with the outside with the world in this past week and I apologize (thus the lack of blogs). I went through a very traumatic experience and it's taken me some time to get over it. Second only to the time I was punched in the testicles, this was the most painful experience of my life. (I was punched in the testicles because I stole someone's Dunkaroos). I was spending this past Christmas with my lovely friend that we'll call Shoniqua. She lives in Michigan just outside of Detroit. I left there on December 26th to travel to my favorite place on Earth next to the liquor store, New York City! You may have heard on the news that there was a slight predicament with my travel plans. There was a hideous blizzard that raped the entire East Coast. They never did give this blizzard a name, in fact I'm not sure if they even name blizzards but I have one; Blizzard Punch-Me-In-The-Nutsack. If it wasn't bad enough that I was travelling by Greyhound bus (or as I call it, Hillbillies On Wheels) but I was stuck in one of the most frightening places in the universe: Cleveland!

         The last time I was in Cleveland I also happened to be on a layover. The only thing I remember about this Ohio city was going to a barbershop. When I asked for a haircut the barber told me he couldn't cut "African-American hair". I couldn't decide whether my response should've been "Good thing I'm neither African or American so get ready to cut some Canadian hair bitch!" OR "Well I'm only half Black so can you just cut the left side?". I was so indecisive at that moment that I graced him with neither response and just stared blankly. He directed me to where the Blacks get their haircut down the street which happened to be the most ghetto experience of my life (a future blog). Needless to say I wasn't exactly thrilled about revisiting Cleveland for an inordinate amount of time. On this occasion, I was scheduled for a 30 minute layover just to change buses. Once in line, there was an announcement made on the P.A. system that all buses to New York had been cancelled! I needed a Pepto Bismol at that moment. My self-diagnosed IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome) was not happy about this. I knew it wasn't going to be pretty. But I knew it would make a great blog.

          It's times like these when we most need our friends. No matter what is going in my life I always turns to those who are close to me and always there for me. I have to be thankful for the fact that despite troublesome times I always have someone to turn to. This is why I felt so lucky that even though I was stranded, I just happened to have my BEST friend with me; Crown Royal. She's truly never let me down. Shoniqua had actually given me a bottle for Christmas! Shoniqua understands the spirit of the holidays; harmless drinking. I was fortunate enough to have that bottle in my murse (man purse). So I pulled her out and decided to have a conversation with Mrs. Royal. I looked at her and said, "What are we going to do now? We're stuck in Cleveland!". She looked at my with her glassy shiny self and said "Listen you little bitch! We haven't come all this way on this shitty ass smelly bus with a bunch of hobos to start crying and complaining like a whiny skank! So you need to get yourself together, leave your suitcase here and let's go out and party it up in Cleveland. So suck it up ho!" That's the thing about friends. Sometimes they tell you things you don't want to hear but you need to hear it, even though sometimes it's hurtful and offensive. On Mrs. Royal's suggestion, I left my suitcase in the lineup and she and I skipped our way holding hands out the station.

           My day of fun with Crown Royal began with a trip to the movie theater. I wanted to see "How Do You Know?" featuring Reese Witherspoon but she wanted to see the "Focker" movie. But I explained to her that I already saw "Little Fockers" with Shoniqua and I didn't want to see it again. We fought for a good 20 minutes before I finally gave in and decided to get "Focker-ized" yet again. Truthfully, the movie is actually quite good and there was one part I was especially excited to see. I won't give away the movie or even the scenario, just one fantastic line; "Can a girl poop from her vagina?". This line makes the movie fantastic. For those who have seen it you will also probably appreciate all of the "Early Human School" scenes which are just absolutely entertaining. Once the movie was finished Crown Royal and I staggered our way out the theatre. As I was making my way to the exit Mrs. Royal kept tugging on my arm. "Stop it!", I said. "Shut the hell up. You're coming with me you little bitch!", she replied. I know too well that when Crown Royal gets in her mood there's just no point in trying to argue with her. I had no idea where we were going until she grabbed me firmly by the elbow and dragged me into another theatre before I even knew it. We were in effect "stealing" another movie! "For Christ's sakes! We can't do this. It was Jesus's birthday only yesterday!" I pleaded. Crown Royal replied, "Sit your ass down! Screw this up for me and I'll punch  you in the vagina!". That shut me up immediately. I've never been punched in the vagina before probably on account of the fact of me not having one but I'm still very freaked out and perturbed at the possibility. I begrudgingly sat down but was somewhat relieved at the fact that Crown Royal pulled me into see "How Do You Know", the movie I had wished to see from the beginning. I felt relatively guilty at the fact that I bitched and moaned at Crown Royal for forcing me to steal a movie only to give me what I wanted in the first place. I was excited to finally watch my movie of choice. By the end of the movie I felt very differently. This movie was awful. It was nauseatingly atrocious. I would rather make out with a toilet seat than re-live the slow and painful experience of sitting through that abomination. I fell asleep at one point. Crown Royal woke me up once the credits started rolling. "Nice choice, you slut!", she said to me. I shrugged my shoulders, we got up and left. "Let's go find a bar!", I said to the empty Crown Royal bottle.

           By the time I left the theatre, it was blisteringly cold outside. I think I actually saw my eyelashes turn into icicles. So I ran! I ran like Forrest to the first bar I could find. I burst my way through the door and realized immediately that I was either being punished for stealing a movie or being punished by not being at all selective with my choosing of a bar. I think this was the first time in my life I've seen interracial trash. Generally speaking, people whom are arrogantly disrespectful and obnoxious tend to also be quite discriminatory; it all falls under the same umbrella of ignorance. Therefore, I was quite surprised to see frighteningly loud and filthy people of all races packed into one seedy bar. Unfortunately, I didn't have many options at that point considering the weather conditions outside so the only choice I could make was to squeeze my tiny tukkus onto to only available bar seat at the corner. I ordered Gin & Tonic. It was 7 dollars. I was appalled. This place was filthier than Amy Winehouse's dirty laundry basket and yet they had the nerve to charge me 7 dollars for a shot of Blue Sapphire and tonic served in a plastic cup? But again, I just had to suck it up because I was not nearly warm enough to head back out there. I sat and slowly sipped out of my blue straw. As I looked around something appalling became very clear to me. This bar was completely filled with all the crazy people I rode the bus with! Each and every one of them, gallivanting around with drinks spilling on eachother, popping quarters into the jukebox playing anything from Snoop Dogg to the Spice Girls. The scariest part of it all was realizing that although I was behaving, I was still in fact one of them! For Christ's sake. I've really taken a down fall. I finished my drink and ran the hell out of there before I was either recognized or the line dancing started.

          It was about 6 in the morning by the time I got back to the station. It looked like a murder scene. Billions of people just sprawled out on the floor asleep on top of their baggage and holding on to their jackets for dear life. What a hot mess festival! But sticking with the theme of my Cleveland adventure in being forced into less than fortunate situations I decided to give in and park myself in the front of the line-up where I left suitcase and fell asleep in my drunken stupor.

          I awoke to the sound of a television and for a moment I was delighted in the idea that it was all a dream and I was in my bed back in Dallas. Before I could open my eyes I remembered that I did not have a television. I was disappointed. Greyhound Stations can't afford to keep their floors clean but somehow they managed to get funding for two HUGE flat screen televisions that they decided to blare at 8 in the morning! I staggered my slightly drunken self over to the screen to find out that the officials decided to put the news on so we could watch the weather reports. Because as we all know just by simply watching news being reported it will somehow cause us to depart earlier. It was completely absurd. I've never seen people so dramatic on television. It was like a damn soap opera. You would've thought this blizzard was a sign that the world was ending. Was Jesus coming? I wonder how he's aged. Even in the midst of this ridiculous forecast I, like so many others, was completely transfixed on the screen watching news reporters standing outside of a completely empty La Guardia airport for 5 hours. This was useless! There I was, starting to feel my sobriety set in, my Crown Royal was gone, I had no food, I was stuck in Cleveland, and my self-diagnosed IBS was not helping the situation! I started crying. This is never a good sign. I sat and sobbed quietly to myself as onlookers in du-rags shook their nappy heads in disapproval. But it was in that moment when Jesus and perhaps Moses heard my plea. A golden light appeared over my vagina....I mean my head but vagina just sort of flows better (try saying out loud, you'll see what I mean). My prayer had been answered with the announcement made over the P.A. system, "The bus scheduled to New York will depart at Noon from gate number 8". Fabulous! I was free. Free at last! Free from slavery!

         I loaded my pink baggage below the coach and stepped onto the bus again for the final time. I was very lucky to have kept my suitcase at the front of the line because I was able to leave on the first bus ahead of the seemingly billions of people still stuck in the station. I lay my head a few rows back and stared out the window to watch the sad faces of people who were still stuck in Cleveland who were yet to make their way out of that hellhole. I don't think most of them were as fortunate to have flasks with them. As the bus slowly exited the station and we embarked on our Eastward journey I paused for a moment of reflection. I realized that the reason why Jesus put me through that ordeal was so that I could truly understand the meaning of friendship. I, so often, had taken advantage of those who were close to me and never truly appreciated their unrelenting dedication and devotion to me. I pulled out my Crown Royal bottle and gave it a kiss right on the crown! "Thank you.", I whispered. She peered back at me with her golden sheen and said "How could you spend 20 hours in Cleveland and not meet Elvis. Dumb bitch!"

Friends are Golden.

Happy New Year.

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