Confessions: Barbie Girl Pt 2

This is the last one, no part 3. LOL

Panic swirled in my head as I tried to piece together the previous evening’s events. I was never one to be sexually indiscriminate, so the sight of a naked white body next to mine confused me. Or perhaps it was the Canadian club that was messing with me. Either way, my first instinct was to jump out of the bed, even though I wasn’t sure that my legs could accomplish that goal. Wait a minute… I thought to myself. You are still fully dressed. Your jeans aren’t even unbuttoned. Ain’t no way you did anything lascivious last night. I can’t explain the feeling of relief that came over me. I felt like a man that had been given a reprieve from the electric chair. Not so much because she was white, but because if I couldn’t remember it, there’s no telling what kind of freaky deaky unprotected stuff could have happened. I could have a Halfrican American kid living out in Kansas. She could have had me burning like the Watts Riots. I could have caught a Kobe case (or whoever the 1999 equivalent was.) Anyway, the relieved feeling that I had didn’t last long because Barbie was still in my hotel room. I tried to find a way to get her the hell out.

Ay yo, wake up!
Huuuuh??
Yo, its morning. Why are you still here?
Huuuh?

I wasn’t getting anywhere. I wasn’t sleepy anymore and I didn’t want to just sit there while she slept, so I did what any panicked Black man in KCK would do. I got the f*ck outta dodge. That’s right. I left her in my room, while I drove off, still a little drunk from the previous night. I saw just about everything there was to see in KCK, then I drove to KCMO and explored. I did just about everything I could do to avoid going back to that room. 3 hours later, I returned to the hotel to find that Barbie was no longer there. There’s that feeling of relief again. I laid down in my bad and vowed once again to stop drinking…

The next week, my job sent my homeboy out to Kansas to help me train these newbies. It was perfect. Lorenzo was one of the coolest cats I knew, and I was no longer the token Black guy; I was one of two. LOL Lorenzo and I used to call ourselves “The Insurance Thugs” which I’ve been told is mad corny, but at the time was dope to me and everybody else. He was the type of cat to smoke a L in the van at work and then come back and be better than ever. He was quasi married to Angela, a crazy chick that nobody but him liked. Their personalities were as different as fire and ice, but they somehow managed to make it work. We rode out together everyday after work. Watching the basketball games (My beloved Knicks were in the NBA finals) and finding cool spots in KCMO where the Black people were. When the weekend came, our co workers again asked me to hang out with them. I was understandably nervous at the prospect. Lorenzo didn’t quite understand so I told him the story.

Dog, you lying.
I wish. It was crazy.
What about your girl? Did you tell her?
Nah, nothing happened. I’ll just keep that one to myself. But that’s why I ain’t rolling with them.

So, I didn’t. A few other co workers had a get together so we hit that one up instead. It was deep in the hood of KCMO, but I felt at home there. The next week was the same old stuff: Working, dodging invitations, hanging out with Lorenzo. At the end of the 3rd week it was time to go home. My newfound coworkers wouldn’t take no for an answer and planned an outing for our last day in the KCK. Lorenzo convinced me to go head and go so we got up with them. It was a fun filled evening. I can’t remember all of it, but I remember we went to a hood club with some black co workers, then to a dance club with the white, then even later we wound up at some strip club in the middle of a corn field with dancers that expected you to tip just because they walked by Then it was back to another club that reminded me of a rave. Crazy. I don’t remember what I was drinking (or more accurately, what I was NOT drinking), but I do remember that at some point in the night, Barbie showed up.

Hey, how come you didn’t call me?
I didn’t have your number.
You coulda asked “such and such*
Yeah, hey this is my homeboy Lorenzo.
How you doing?

He flashed me the look indicating that he knew that was Barbie. He mouthed “stay strong” at me as Barbie and I talked. I tried to blend into the crowd dancing with the one Black girl in the club. No, really, she was the only one. Barbie was hanging tough though, never really letting me out of her sight for two long and buying me drinks at every opportunity. Did I mention that I was an alcoholic back in the day? Anyway, the night ended at one of the co workers apartments. I remember we were listening to music and Lorenzo was rolling a J, but after that its all a blur….

The next morning Lorenzo and I met up in the hotel lobby. We had to check out and then drive back to the airport. We had the following conversation while sipping on the complimentary orange juice. It was confession time.

Yo, I was so drunk last night.
I know kid, me too.
Son, I think I did something bad. Yo, you remember Barbie?
Yeah?
I think…She came back to the room with me.
You hit that?
Man, I did.
What about your girl?
I know. I can’t believe I did that.
Man, I’m sorry.
Man, I don’t even know how I’m gonna look my wiz in her eyes when I get back
Just be strong, homey!
I’m gonna tell her. I have to!
Noooo, don’t do that, yo!
I feel so guilty, maybe she’ll understand
Noooo, my brother. Take this to the grave. I won’t say anything and you shouldn’t either. I got your back.
What if she asks what I did last night?
Tell her everything except that I boned a white girl. Leave that part out man.

There was more to the conversation, but you get the point. One brother messed up, the other brother looked out for him. This is my confession. I helped Lorenzo get away with cheating on his girl with Barbie. What, you thought the story was gonna be about me? LOL I crack myself up. Y’all were really getting mad at me, weren’t you?Thought Rashan X sold out!!! Well, I didn’t…at least not back in 1999. That’s a whole nother confession. LMAO!!!