Bootleg pt 2

Check out Part 1 if you haven't read it.

There I was dancing, surrounded by 8 females, having the time of my life. Bootleg had followed us from one club to the next. It was less than a 5 minute walk, but damn. I had to do something about this, because obviously ignoring her wasn't working. I abhor unnecessary confrontation, especially in public, so I went to the bar and got a shot of liquid courage in the form of Bacardi 151. I wanted to be good and drunk before I had this conversation. As my throat burned from the abrasive liquor, I motioned for Bootleg to follow me outside. She obliged.

Me: Yo, why is you frontin' on my homegirl like that?

Bootleg: She was looking at me all crazy. I don't play that shit.

Me: You acting like you my girl or something. I can hang out with whoever I want.

Bootleg: Nigga, I know. But that girl aint got half the ass I got. Why you want her?

Me: Oh My God! You really got issues. First, that's just my friend and secondly, if I wanted to get with her, I would. You really don't have shit to say about that.

My homeboy, Jimmy walked by us with his brother Rashad and some other cat whose name I can't remember. He gave me dap and walked towards "Frozen Paradise." He looked back with a look of concern on his face. I didn't know what it was about until later. Bootleg and I kept talking and she finally apologized and said she wouldn't do that anymore. My 151 buzz was wearing off, and Bootleg had a little herb with her, so we went back to "The Zoo" to get down on that. Almost as soon as I took my first hit, I started to feel funny. I used to get high, but not too high, but I was damn near knocked on my ass from that blunt. I had to sit down because the club was spinning. The pulsating lights were fuckin' with me and all I kept thinking was "Am I having a seizure? I think I'm having a seizure."

At some point I made it to the bathroom to splash some water on my face and try to sober up. But that shit wasn't working. I had a sensation that I was walking on air. When I got out the bathroom, Bootleg was waiting for me.

Bootleg: You high, nigga?

Me: Huh?

Bootleg: You still high?

Me: Huh?

I couldn't come up with any lucid responses. I leaned against the wall arms folded in a b-boy stance.

Bootleg: I'm gon' suck yo dick.

Me: Huh?

Bootleg: Aw, you high ass nigga. I'm gon' suck yo dick.

Me: Umm...Okay.

Then she went for it. In the back of the club. With people around. While Lil Jon was talking bout "Who U Wit." And other than a few cursory attempts, I didn't really make much of an effort to stop her. Mind you it was dark, and my intoxicated memory tells me that nobody saw what she was doing, but my sober mind knows that is a delusion.

Fast forward to 2 AM. My high had worn off and I remembered that Senita and them was over at the "Frozen Paradise." I checked my beeper (yes, I said beeper) and saw that they had been paging me for a little while. I decided to walk back over there to see what was up. Before I got in the door, I saw Jimmy again. He decided to put me up on game about Bootleg.

Jimmy: Hey, that girl you were talking to? Is her name Francesca?

Me: Yeah. You know her?

Jimmy: Do I!?!? Man, we went to elementary school together.

Me: Word?

Jimmy: You not fuckin her, are ya?

Me: Nah, why what's up?

Jimmy: You know she retarded right? She stay in that group home over on Anderson.

And then everything started to make sense. Her seeming lack of intelligence, the lack of social skills, and the dropping her off on the corner. She wasn't dumb, she was mentally challenged. Jimmy continued:

Jimmy: Yeah, I was gonna tell you to be careful. She's like 24 and got kids by 5 different guys. She'll do just about anybody and then turn up pregnant.

Me: Word? I thought she just had two kids.

Jimmy: Nah, its like 5 and she don't have custody of any of them.

Me: Damn, nah, I ain't messing with her like that. We just see each other at "The Zoo" all the time.

Jimmy: Aiight, man. You know why they call her Bootleg?

Me: Nah, why?

Jimmy: When we were in elementary school, she had to wear this leg brace cuz her leg was all fucked up. But she didn't want nobody to see it so she wore these bright ass yellow rain boots everyday. I'm talking bout she would wear them shits in the summer, too. Man, niggas been calling her Bootleg ever since. The fucked up thing is that she don't even know people are making fun of her.

Me: That's messed up dawg. I'll get up with you later. I got some homegirls in the club I need to meet up with.

At that point any remnant of intoxication was all the way gone. I just recieved fellatio from a retard. I figured that would definitely tip the scales toward me going to hell. I knew I damn sure couldn't tell anybody about it. As I took Senita home, I was mad quiet and she called me out on it. I blamed it on being tired, but really my mind was just going in a hundred different directions. How do I get out of this situation without being a bad guy?

Apparently, I am being very loqacious. This story did not need to be this long, but alas it is. Okay, the conclusion will be done by Sunday. Questions answered include, "What exactly was in that blunt that made me so high?" and "Where does Rashan really live and why is he telling her something different?" and "Will this experience stop Rashan from club hopping?" Find out on the conclusion to the Bootleg story on Sunday.