The Morning After (aka Impact aka the longest "Walk of Shame" ever)

This is Part II of what happened at LOVE Howard Homecoming Friday. It is suggested that you peep Part I prior to reading this so you know what the fuck I'm talking about.
Giles... Here it is. As promised.



We all know that I’m not about sleepovers. So at about 6am, I gather all my shit with the intention of going home...

This is the first time since the Pittsburgh debacle that I have done some shit as dumb as what I did Friday Night....

Namely, I left my house with 2 dollars, my ID, a credit card (not a check card, no atm, no cash back option, nothin) and a tiny purse that was way too small for anything. I didn't even have my Blackberry, which made taking notes on the craziness that occurred the night before very difficult.

Which meant that I was stuck. My plan was to get 20 dollars off of homeboy and take a cab home. This plan was deaded when he saw that I was bout to dip and said "Fuck you doing? Where you think you going? Lay yo ass down."

Shit. Okay. Fuck it. I can rest for a lil bit. So I lay down. And I remembered how nice spooning is. That shit is straight.

So I wake up at 8am and I am more than alil alert. I snatch up a book that's laying around and start to read "Life Lit by Some Large Vision: Selected Speeches and Writings" by Ossie Davis. Definitely enlightening. It was interesting to read some conscious shit after all the ignorance of the day before.

I end up fallin back asleep for a bit and then wake up again. He is headed off to grab breakfast. Turns out he hadn't eaten at all the day before and faced a bottle and a half of Patron. Not the best idea. I decline breakfast, throw on my shit and once again am ready to dip.

He looks at me and goes "Yeah. No. We ain't dippin yet."

So fuck it. I'm in Georgetown and I'm more than alil trapped. It's like the complete opposite of that time when I lost my car at the Four Seasons.

At this point I realized some things:

1. My feet are killing me.
   
   I really was not a fan of taking off my heels tho. I had not a clue, plan or plot that I'd end up taking off my shoes in the first place. Its not like I was gonna wander around LOVE barefoot. We were running late and I was wearing close toed shoes so I figured "Fuck it" and didn't bother to touch up my toe nails. This shouldn't even fuckin matter, but I am alil anal about some shit. There is a scene in the movie "Boomerang" that stuck with me (DONT ACT LIKE I'M THE ONLY ONE!) so whenever I think I might even possibly get something close to shoeless, I like to make sure my toes are in order.
   
   
   Feel free to watch it. I think everyone from my generation remembers this shit.
   
   
2. The lil cousin has been throwin up all night.
   
   He mixed Jack Daniels, Patron and beer the night before. Not a good look. Actually a combination of any two of the aforementioned libations would be hostile to the stomach, but the combo of all three is a hell no. A real hell no. So at this point its about 11am and he is still hurling.
   
   
3. Ummm No Bra. No Panties.
   
   My thong was ripped. Twice. There was no option of wearing them home. My bra was in the BMW. I was in the David Meister dress pictured below, with red pumps, a hair clip and a red clutch.
   
   
   
   I felt like that line from that Devin the Dude song, "See what I could pull":
   

   They have no bra
   No panties

   
   
   I think we can all agree that it is never a good idea to feel like a line out of a Devin the Dude song...

Fuck it. I took off my shoes cuz apparently all the Patron from the night before made it so that my feet didn't hurt at all while I was doing circuits around this 4 level club and now my feet were effectively telling me to fuck off.

I went upstairs, laid back down and started reading again.

We watched old episodes of "Bewitched" while waiting on his friend to show up. At this point, I had gathered that we needed to go to Bladensburg to get a tire for the BMW because he'd gotten a flat and was riding on the spare. I also gathered that we must accomplish this prior to 2pm because the place closes. At this point it's almost 1pm and though my place is not really out of the way, it ain't really on the way either, so I am sure that I'm going to have to go to the tire place. Fuck it. I didn't have anything pressing to do and at that point I was just plotting on a nap.

The friend arrives. The cousin stops throwing up enough to get into the car and we are headed to the tire place. The cousin keeps intermittently getting ill. Shit happens. We all been there. I told him, Whenever possible Hurl the night before. You don't want to have that shit marinating in yo system and then have to wake up to that bullshit.

Headed to the tire place, I keep getting calls and texts from the guy who used the word "Alacrity" correctly. I have, accordingly dubbed him Mr. Alacrity. AJ likes to snatch phones. He took mine twice and took his cousins, so when he started reaching, I pulled back.
Him: Who is that? That your boyfriend calling?
Me: I am boyfriendless. No boyfriend.
Him: Answer the phone. He keep callin you.
Me: It's not my boyfriend. It's this guy I gave my number about a week ago. He used the word Alacrity correctly. It is one of my GRE vocab. words and I thought it was sexy so I gave him my number.
Him: Cuz you liked his vocabulary.
Me: Yup. He wasn't sexy but his vocabulary was. Intelligence is a turn on.
Friend: Good to hear that intelligence still counts for something with some women.....

We finally get to the tire place. AJ says we need to get out so they can jack up the car and that he wants to see all the guys get all hot and bothered seeing me in my dress..... then he laughs and says I can stay in the car. Which is great cuz its cold and I am still in a mini dress and red pumps. He gives me a jacket cuz I'm chilly.

They swap out the tire and throw the spare back in the trunk. Having procured this 400 fucking dollar tire, we head in the direction of my house so that I can get the fuck home. New York Ave. was looking especially shitty so we cut over to the Brentwood area to avoid all the traffic. We take a left onto Rhode Island Ave and are sailing toward the crib.

Rhode Island Ave. is 3 lanes going either direction with a double yellow line in the center, and the far right lane is primarily used for parking purposes. An 80 year old guy was coming out of a parking spot on the far right. We were in the leftmost lane on that same side. The 80 yr old man decides that he is going to make a U turn across 3 lanes of traffic. Not a good idea.

We see him, but we are convinced that he will stop. He really doesn’t. He tries to speed up. We try and maneuver around him. He maneuvers into us. So basically, we kinda T-boned his car. Air bags deployed. Cars totaled.

We all get out. At this point, I'm in shock. I keep feeling my face because I remember getting hit with an airbag when I rolled the Dodge Shadow back in 2002 and I looked like I went 3 solid rounds in a boxing ring with Evander Holyfield. I had 2 black eyes, chemical burns on both cheeks, a busted lip, bruised ribs and a host of other issues. I looked so bad after that accident that strangers would walk up to me and say ignorant ass shit like "Baby girl, you too beautiful to let him hit you like that.", to which I would respond "My boyfriend doesn't hit me. I was in a car accident." which was normally countered with some shit like "You ain’t gotta lie for him." I really didn't want to have to deal with that all over.

Also, I'd always stated that I didn't plan on living through my next bad car accident. The first one was bad and I was certain that the next one would kill me, which is why I always roll with Fatbear and wear my cross (which coincidentally broke that morning). They make sure I'm okay.

So we all get out. The cousin goes and throws up again. The 80 year old is trapped in his car. Ambulance gets called.

I'm standing on the side of Rhode Island Ave. watching them try to sort this all out. Every time I wander back over to the cars, to see if there is anything I can do, AJ goes "Baby, go stand on the sidewalk where its safe." So I give up and just resort to yelling shit like "Don't move him. Wait for the Ambulance." This woman keeps on trying to engage me in a conversation about who the cops will assign fault to. I give not a damn, but I am too tired and worn down to argue so I just go with it.

I'm standing on the side of the road, in them damn red pumps, the fuckin mini dress, an oversized jacket with the bra stuffed into the jacket pocket and the clutch under my arm, no drawz. The funny thing is, right before the moment of impact, I remembered that I had no underwear on and that I should "Always wear clean underwear in case I get into an accident" and that it would be a shame if I died with no underwear on because my mom would be embarrassed or mad or something.

They get the door off of the 80 year olds car, and get him out. He is shaken but he is okay. I had a busted lip, a scratch on my forehead and cheek (I look alil like Scarface, but it's nothing too serious), and a few extra bruises beyond the war wounds that I got the night before. The lil cousin was fine, though he was still throwing up. The friend was fine. AJ hurt his arm because he instinctually used it to block the airbag.

The craziest thing is this - We were just in a car accident and people keep stopping and taking photos with him while he is dealing with the cops. A 17 year old on the sidewalk asked me why people kept takin pictures with him and was he famous. I was still in shock so I just said "He's AJ." The 17 year old goes "OH SHIT. It is that nigga AJ. AJ! Yo, man I ain't never gettin in yo way, CUZ YOU WAS BALLIN! DAMN!". This was not at all helpful. The speculating woman kept saying how good he looked with his hair short. At this point, I'm over it.

Some of AJ and his friends peoples come to get us. They get everything out of the car so it can be towed. This random guy walks over and goes "Damn, sorry bout yall car accident. Shit. Yall in town the whole weekend? I make music and shit. You should come through and check it out. Here's my business card."

I'm awestruck at this point, because he was so gracious. Really nice, letting people take pics and shit, having conversations and just being really pleasant even under those fucked up circumstances.

We are finally ready to go and we pile all 8 of us in this 4 door car with me layin across AJ and the Friends laps. It reminded me of bein 15 and piling everyone into that one chicks Geo.

We are all blown, but still jokin, cuz in situations like that, what can you do but laugh? He just spent 400 dollars on tires and totaled his car less than 10 mins later. We cracked up the whole way to my crib. AJ says his legs hurt. I ask if it is because of the accident or because I'm in his lap. He friend jumps in with the quickness, "You better watch how you answer that dawg!" We get by my crib and I tell them they can just pull over and let me out.

"Oh, I see. You don't want niggas seein you climbin outta the clown car."
"Naw, not even like that."

He gets out and gives me a hug and then asks me if I'm coming to "The Park" later.... Ummm I don't think so. I went out at 8pm Friday night and didn't get home til 3pm the next day. Naw dawg. I think Imma sit this one out.

All in all, even wit the car accident, it was a great time. For some reason, I have a huge bruise on the top of my left foot (no clue where that one came from). You know you had a good night when you have unidentifiable scratches and bruises. I'm just waiting to see what hurts tomorrow.

The craziest thing is, no one was hurt. I wasn't wearing a seatbelt. I'm pretty sure no one in the BMW was. The accident shoulda happened the night before. That shit was wild, so it was alil insane for it to happen the next day when everything wasn't all wild. But all in all, good night, good fun, good people.

And that completes my HU homecoming saga. I couldn't even go out last night. I OD'D on Friday.

FIN