7 Days in Savannah: We Ain't That Type Of Nigga

7 Days in Savannah is a recollection of my time growing up and being a young man in Savannah, GA. All stories are true and relayed to the best of my memory.


I was sitting at home playing NCAA football on the Playstation when my pager went off. From the code, I could tell it was my man, Kareem. From the 236 prefix, I knew he was calling me from the westside. I hesitated before calling him back, as I was about 3 minutes from winning yet another national championship; this time with Wyoming. With their subpar talent and ugly uniforms, that took some serious skills. As the confetti fell on the screen acknowledging my victory over the computer, I picked up the cordless and called the unfamiliar number on the pager display. I already knew what was up.


"Hello."

"What up, Kareem! You need a ride?"

"Yeah, but I need to talk to you. Meet me over on 37th and Jefferson. It's a house right down the street."

"Over there by where ol girl stay?"

"Yeah, I'll be outside waiting."

"20 minutes. Aiight, peace."

I hung up the jack, and put the colorful Fila shirt I was wearing earlier that day back on. I ran my brush over my head, then said "forget it" and threw on the Yankees cap I liberated from my brother. Grabbing the keys and the face to my cd player, I headed to my 91 Toyota Tercel and made the trip across town to pick up my homey. When I got there, Kareem's eyes were tinged with that familiar redness, a telltale sign that he had been smoking weed, drinking dark liquor, or worse.

"Yo!"

"Go head and park a minute. I wanna finish this blunt."

I parked and got out the car, walking towards an old house, that had 3 or 4 rough lookin' dudes hanging out on the porch. It was one of those places that in a few short years would be taken over by the Savannah College Of Art and Design in the name of urban renewal. Or gentrification depending on your point of view. Politics aside, I sat down on a makeshift chair, really a milk crate, and waited for Kareem to pass the blunt. The 3 or 4 other guys paid us no attention as we inhaled and exhaled the cannibis in silence. Finally, I broke the calm.

"What's going on, man?"

"I f*cked up"

"What happened?"

"For real, I f*cked up really bad."

I sensed this was something that had to come out on organically, so I said nothing else. Kareem stared off into space, stopping only to spit occasionally. When he was ready, he spoke.

"I hit Chandra."

"Huh?"

"I hit her."

Chandra was his girlfriend. He was living with her in an apartment on the Southside of town. She was good people. Perhaps a bit naive, but her nurturing nature was perfect for my friend. I wonder if she knew at the time that he was into drugs other than weed. I myself, had just recently learned that my best friend in the world was on that powder. It shook me to the core. It was difficult to fathom and even more difficult to reconcile. I can only imagine what it would have done to her. Kareem offered me the blunt, but I thought about the constant spitting and declined.

"Son, what are you talking about?"

"We got in a fight last night and she was in my face. I was geeked up. And I just hit her."

"I don't even know what to say. We may be a lot of things, my nigga, but we ain't that type of nigga."

"I know."

"I mean, where did you hit her? Are we talking a slap or full fledged punch?"

I don't know why I asked this question. It didn't make a difference. It was unacceptable, no matter how it went down.

"I punched her in the face."

"That's some f*cked up sh*t! You can't be doing sh*t like that."

"I know. You the only one I can tell about this."

"I hope you don't expect me to tell you that it's all right."

"I know it's not. And I know you will tell me the truth."

"Have you talked to Chandra? Is she okay?"

"She says she's okay. She wants me to come home, but I can't face her."

Then more silence. I didn't know what to say next. Part of me wanted to beat the tar out of him, but the other part wanted to be there for my friend.

"I'm not taking you over there. I'll drop you by your mom's crib, but I can't bring you back over there."

"I need to see her, dawg."

"You gonna have to find another way."

"She wants me there."

Tears formed in his already red eyes, although I could tell he was trying to hold them in. I could see what looked like grief and remorse on his face. I could sense an absolute sense of panic in his words, and against my better judgement, I finally relented.

"If she says its okay, then I'll do it."

We got in the car and drove back to the southside. No further words were exchanged by us. I sat there dazed, a little from the weed, but mostly from what I had just heard. Redman bumped from my 6x9 speakers as I pulled in the apartment complex.

"You ready to roll this weed up? Whateva, man"

"Turn the music down, Rashan."

"You ready to get this chedder? Whateva, man"

"YOOO!!! Turn it down!!!"

Kareem had a serious look on his face. I muted the cd player and listened.

"Park in the back, dawg."

He got out the car and sat on the trunk. I followed suit and did the same. I barely recognized the quivering voice that soon followed.

"I need to change my life. I can't keep doing this same sh*t every day. Getting high, running around with Tori. I got a good woman, and I treat her like crap. I need to get back with God, man."

"Do it."

"I need God's deliverence. I need him to deliver me from this coke."

"True."

"Jesus is the only one that can save my life."

"Word, son. I feel you."

"Pray with me, dawg! I got to get these demons out of me"

"Aiight."

So we prayed. Two high cats in the parking lot of an apartment that just hours ago was the scene of domestic violence. Kareem's tears flowed freely at this point. No longer did he hold them in. He had a breakthrough. I wont lie. I was filled with hope. Time would tell what would become of him, but in that moment, I had hope that my friend would turn his life around. The weed and liquor was inconsequential to me at that point. If I needed to give that up to get my brother back, then so be it. In his darkest moment, I felt closer to Kareem than ever. He walked to the door unlocked it and then turned around.

"You're right. We ain't that type of nigga. Thanks for reminding me."


There really is no moral to this story. What he did was horrible, and I don't know if at this point in my life I could be there to work through it with him. I'm not as forgiving now as I was 10 years ago. Nevertheless, this was one of the days in Savannah that always sticks with me. One of the days that I realized that people do messed up things to people they love. And sometimes it's people you know.

Wild Wild West

Wow, I swear life is hilarious. I don't know how people can't find anything to live for. Just the randomosity that pops up around me keeps me going. Case in point...

Tonight, after work, I went to fill up the whip. As I was pumping my gas, this dude walks up on me and asks if I have any change. I say no, and then avoid eye contact, but then it hits me. WTF is dude wearing? I could paint a picture with words, but I think I would rather let you see it. This is not the actual photo, but combined, they provide a pretty accurate representation...

THIS JACKET (considerably more dingy)

AND THIS HAT!!!

Yo, I gave him the quizzical look, and almost said something. I controlled myself, but then he went to the guy next to me asking for money..

"Kool Moe Dee!!! What's up!!"

"Lemme hold a dollar, young blood!"

"What happened to your Wild Wild West money? You ain't still getting residuals off that?"

"Aww, come on now.. don't be like that. Lemme hold somethin'"

"If you do the song, I'll give you two dollars!"

...AND HE DID IT!!!

"I remember parties out in the park/with the girlies, rubbing up in the dark/Iwas smooth, until someone pulled a gun/it was over, they spoiled my fun..."

By that time, I was finished pumping my gas, but I was transfixed. I couldn't leave. Then he started doing the dance from the video! I almost give him some money just for making my day, but payday ain't until tomorrow. LOL

Life is hilarious. How can people not want to live??? Now, I wanna watch the video!

You, Ma'am, and Your Husband...

... are bad parents. I know what you are going to say. I don't have kids, so who am I to judge? Well, let me answer that for you. I'm a human being. And I have common sense, which apparently, along with basic decency is something you lack. Besides, it's your own fault for telling all your business all unsolicited like that...

So, you and your husband fight. It happens all the time. I'm not saying you should stick together, but for you to just leave the state and not tell your kids where you are going, when you are coming back or if they will ever see you again is NOT acceptable. And you wonder why once you finished going through your "mess" they are reluctant to open up to you. It's not natural for a mother to abandon her kids like that. I don't care what you say, you will not get me to understand that. Let's be clear, if your husband has custody, that's acceptable. For you to not know anything about what's going on in their lives for three years, thats unacceptable. And now you want to be part of their lives again? I pray that they give you a second chance, but I don't blame them if they don't.

Now, your husband? He's an equally piece of crap parent. I understand it may be tough to care for two children on your own, but suck it up. Women do that every day. Get some help, or get over it, but do NOT under any circumstances, abandon your children who have just been abandoned by their mother. Seriously??? You leave your kids with your ex-mistress after you break up? She is not their mother. How in the world could you just dip out on your kids and leave them with a woman they barely know? That is some bull. So, let's just get this straight. 2 kids... mother left them...father left them... How can the two of you live with yourselves?

You, ma'am, and your husband are bad parents. Scratch that, you are bad people. Think I'm being harsh? So what! The opinion of someone who could do that to their kid means nothing to me.

Ballin'

Recession? What recession? I'm ballin', son!!! I just got a promotion at work!!! My hard work (he he he) has paid off. They finally recognized that I am the man and decided to compensate me for it. It was unexpected because I thought that all raises were frozen. But there was no way that they could deny that I am worth every last penny they could throw my way. I'm indispensable, yo! A new job title, a bump up in job grade, more responsibilities. The world is my oyster! I'm just so happy!!! Guess how much my salary increased? Nah, I shouldn't tell you. It's indelicate to talk about money in times like these when people are losing jobs right and left. Especially when you are talking about the type of money I just got. It'll just seem like bragging. Wait. You are my blog family. You wanna share in my joy, don't you? Maybe just this once I'll make an exception. I can't contain my excitement. I got a whopping raise of...


$648. Meet me at the bar. Drinks on me!!! I hope this raise doesn't move me to a higher tax bracket. LOL. Any suggestions on what I should get with my new found wealth?

The Barber Chronicles

I could make this a semi regular series. It's really difficult to find a barber that I like. Either they are just mediocre, or they don't show up on time, or they have you sit in the chair forever while they argue about whose booty is fattest or which wack rapper is the best. I miss the good old days in Savannah, when I had a standing Tuesday appointment with Duane at Holmes Barbershop on Montgomery Ave. He used to not show up on time, but at least his apartment was close enough that I didn't have to wait for him to drive across town to cut my hair. Plus, he knew how to cut my hair, and once he finally showed up, he was efficient.

Anyway, its been a while since I got my haircut, so on Saturday, I went to get that handled. I stopped at an ATM to get some cash, and as I was driving back to the spot where I normally go, I saw a barber shop that I never saw before. I've been looking for a new spot, because the last couple of times I went to my usual shop, had new barbers that did not do a very good job. One guy's clippers were too sharp and cut my face, the other one just seemed to have no clue what he was doing. Add to that the other barbers that are competent weren't there, and I was about through with them. Back to the point... I decided to give this shop a chance.

I walked in and there were only two barber chairs, and three women stylists in another room. I saw the two barbers. One was an older gentleman, conservatively in his mid 50's. He had someone in his chair. The other was a younger guy, maybe in his late 20's. I was glad that the younger guy was available. No offense, but from my experience, older barbers tend to do what they want with your hair, as opposed to what you want. I sat down, and told the guy what I wanted. I was gonna keep some of the hair on top that had been growing over the last month. He repeated what I wanted, but didn't get it right. I lost confidence that he would do what I wanted him to do. With my texture of hair, its pretty much a hit or miss thing, so I decided I would play it safe and just have him cut it low. He seemed to understand that pretty well, so I sat back and let him get to work. I heard the older barber talking..

"Take the one blade all the way back."

I didn't pay it any attention. I figured he was talking to himself. But it soon hit me that he was actually telling the other barber what to do. I was like why is the old man being so nosy? Cut your own customer's hair. All that was in my mind of course. After all my locks were on the floor, I heard him talking again.

"Tape up the front."

Wait... Am I getting my hair cut by an amateur? Does this guy not know what the bleep he is doing? All I wanted to do was look at my hair, but since I am blind with out my glasses, I couldn't see what it looked like in the mirror. I nervously sat there as he shaped up the goatee and sideburns. I already worked it out in my head. If he messes up the facial hair, I can fix that, but he better not mess up my hair. All the while, the older barber is giving him instructions. I was like please hurry up and let me out of where. Did I mention that it was taking forever. Finally, he was finished. Or so I thought. I put on my glasses and looked in the mirror and noticed that my tape was not even close to being right.

"Can you tighten up that tape?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna do that in just a minute with the razor."

Dammit, man! This neophyte is actually gonna come at me with a sharp razor? I don't really want him to do that, but I still got too many loose hairs on my face and hairline. I guess I'll let him do it. He puts some shaving gel on my face and then starts looking around. The old guy speaks again...

"You need to have your hot towel ready before you do that."

"Oh, okay..."

He goes into another room, and the older barber follows him, presumably to give him some direction. I thought about getting up and leaving right then, but my car was parked in the back of the building and there would be no way of leaving without them getting my license plate number. I then thought about throwing down some money and jetting, but I needed change. Ain't no way I was paying $20 for this half assed haircut. So, I sat there, shaving gel marinating on my face for about 3 minutes, while he got his stuff together. They finally came back, and he put the not quite hot towel on my face. Well, it started on my face, but soon slid down. The older barber said, let me show you. He slid the barber chair back and rewrapped my face correctly. When my pores were sufficiently opened, he let the young guy take back over. I felt the scraping against my face, and although I didn't know exactly what he was doing, I knew it wasn't right. The old guy recognized this too..

"Use your reverse backhand. Go with the grain. Pull the skin tight."

The young guy, bless his heart, tried to follow all the directions, but it just wasn't working. Luckily, the older guy took over again.

"I'll get you through this one. You watch me and I'll show you how it's done."

When he was finally finished, the young guy came back and touched it up, and I was finally ready to go. After an hour sitting in the chair with a barber school reject, they had the nerve to charge me regular price. I was not in the mood to argue, (or as Jameil says I'm too nice), so I paid and jetted. My customary nice tip however was not included. The hair cut is not bad, but its not good. I know a lot of people can't tell the difference, but I can already see that it's not going to grow in the right way. I expect that in about 4 days, my hair will be sticking up and not laying right. I guess it goes without saying that I will not be returning to this barbershop. Here's what it looks like one day later...

Notice the uneven hairline and the unfinished looking goatee. Stay tuned in two weeks when I try yet another barber...

Late Thursday Thirteen: Things I Don't Understand

1. Dow Jones – I guess since I work in the financial services industry, I should have a better grasp on this thing, but to me, it just seems like legalized gambling. Its like you aren’t really buying anything tangible with your money. You are betting on the future performance of a company. I also know that my 401k is taking a horrendous beating b/c of the stock market. Can I invest in something that is gonna always pay dividends…like cocaine? LOL

2. Obama makes you better – You don’t know how many times I’ve heard since the election that people feel better about themselves because Obama won. So basically what you are saying is that before the election, you felt like a nigger, but now you don’t? Look, I’m mad inspired as well, but I always had a (some would say inflated) high opinion of myself. He can’t make me be something I wasn’t already, nah mean?

3. Gone With The Wind – I made it through an hour of this 4 hour movie, and if I wasn’t black, I could see myself enjoying it. I just don’t know how in good conscience I can ignore the horrific racial undertones and root for these characters that are happily going to war to keep their slaves. I’m trying to just look at the movie on its merits, but I can’t separate reality from the fiction.

4. Weave - Let me start by saying, I have no problem at all with weave. If you wanna rock it, and it looks good, its all good with me. In fact, I don’t care what you do with your hair, as long as it looks good. Howsomever, I’ve recently noticed, that weave is getting out of control again. Where as it got to the point, where it was looking more realistic, lately it seems like we are going back to the old school days of just adding a whole bunch of weave that looks majorly synthetic. Its like an Al B Sure video with the video girls flinging their yarn-y hair all over the place. You can’t think that looks good, can you?

5. Good Hair - People are still talking about good hair? Why yes, they are! I've been letting my hair grow out, partially because I like it, and partially, because I'm too lazy to go to the barbershop. The other day at work, I got told that I had good hair. I must be mixed. I got some of what Obama got in him. I was like, what is this 1964 or something?

6. This thing on my shoulder – Yeah, I thought it was a pimple. Then it started growing and then I thought it was a boil, thanks to WebMd. Now, I don’t know what it is. I won’t go into anymore disgusting detail, but its annoying me.

7. Reality TV – Am I the only one that realizes that most of these shows follow the exact same format? How many different types of competitions can you have? How many terse, dramatic, heavily edited shows can there be? How many crybabies are there in this country? The way they cry at the drop of a hat is just annoying. Full Disclosure: Jameil got me liking Project Runway and True Beauty, but the rest I can’t get with, including Top Chef.

8. Why I was paying for anti virus… when I get free anti virus protection from Comcast? I feel like a chump for that one.

9. My President is Black - I like the song, but when I actually listened to the lyrics, I had to scratch my head. Its full of drug references like most Jeezy song's, but you woulda thought that on an ode to the president, he could have laid off the dreams of being Pablo Escobar. Just for one song, Jeezy? Please???

10. My lateness – I was doing so well. I had started getting to work on time, even early. Now, for the last month, I’ve been arriving at 11:59 or 12:02. If there was some traffic, I could see the problem. The problem is me. I’ve back slided into procrastination. Waking up at the last minute, taking too long in the shower, watching TV instead of getting ready for work. It sucks, I need to fix it. (Step One – Fix, Step Two – It, Step Three – Fix It!!) (fast forward to 6 minutes.)

11. People like me – I don’t get why people still call and text me. I can tell you if I got ignored as many times as I ignore other people, it would be a wrap. I know I suck for this, but I am who I am. I just don't get why people still try.

12 . Smoke detector – Why my smoke detector was beeping all night is a mystery to me. It could be that it needs a new battery if I didn’t replace it just last month. Also, once I took the battery out, why come is it still beeping? And why does it use a 9 volt battery? When was the last time you bought a 9 volt battery? I can answer for me… I had a hand held electronic football game in 8th grade. That was the last thing I had that used one of those, except for my smoke detector.

13. Why my girlfriend made me watch porn - LOL - I can see her jumping up and gesticulating at the computer right now, so I guess I should explain. We've been watching movies together on the phone. I made a list of some movies that were in the UF library and I have on Netflix Instant Viewing. One such movie was a Spanish movie called "Sex and Lucia." While that title should have clued us in that it was a little risque, the description of the movie didn't tell us that there would be like 10 minutes of almost real sex and constant nudity. I can't believe she made me watch that. I feel so violated. LOL

Predictability

I've been known to be a creature of habit. I find myself doing the same things all the time. Its not so much of an obsession, but just what I'm used to. I eat wheat bread because that's what I was raised on. I always drive in the 4th lane on 285 on the way to work. When I log on to my computer, I always start at the same sites, in the same order. Why? I don't know, but I that's what just how I do. I guess it's just comfortable...However, something happened the other day that made me wonder if I need to switch things up a little.

After the ride home from work Monday (in which I drove in the 4th lane for as long as possible), I stopped by my local Subway to get dinner. I usually go there at least once a week, unless I'm on one of my "I'm gonna cook" phases. I got in line and the East African girl that always waits on me says:

"Footlong Tuna Sub on Italian Herbs and Cheese. Lettuce, Tomatoes, and Pickles"

She was right. How did she know? LOL - Maybe it's cuz I go there all the time and always order the same thing. I felt like switching up the order just to prove her wrong, but I really wanted that tuna sub. I'm so predictable sometimes.

ATT - Manager's Phone

*Beep* Hey, this is the manager's phone. Manager doesn't have ATT, so he didn't get the call from the boss telling him NOT to tell everybody that the company is suspending merit raises. Because he has zero bars, he didn't know that it was not supposed to be common knowledge. Call and text all you want. The manager won't be answering, he'll be trying to come up with responses to a bunch of questions he isn't prepared to answer.

Wanna Get Away?

You know those Southwest Airline commercials where people do something utterly embarrassing and then want to get away? I witnessed one of those moments the other day...

Characters:
Kenyan Like Obama (KLO)
Yes, I'm A Lesbian (YIAL)
Rashan

KLO: Hey, YIAL! Who is that man?
YIAL: What are talking about?
KLO: That picture on your desk?
YIAL: (looks as if she doesn't know what picture is on her desk): Girrrl, that ain't a man. That's my wife.
KLO: Oh, she looks like a man from here.
Rashan: (whispering) Stop talking!
YIAL: Oh.
KLO: I mean she has manly facial features.
Rashan: (whispering) I implore you to stop talking right now!
YIAL: No that's my honey bunny.
KLO: I couldn't really tell. I thought it was a man with dreadlocks.
Rashan: (whispering) For real, stop talking right now.
KLO: (to me) You can understand how I could make that mistake, can't you?
Rashan: ...
YIAL: Yeah, that's my husband.
KLO: So, she's the man and you're the woman? I woulda thought...
Rashan: KLO, shut up!

It was this point that I imagined the announcer saying: Wanna Get Away? I work with the most tactless people in the world. LOL

Semi Wordless Wednesday

When I went to work yesterday, people were trying to figure out was different about me. You should have seen them racking their brains trying to come up with it. Can you tell what it is? I thought it would be obvious, especially for people that see me 5 days out of the week.

Unscheduled Meeting

I think I'm in the minority of workers. I actually love meetings. While some people go out of their way to avoid them, I pray for an interruption to my work day. I used to love Fridays at work because we would have an hour and 45 minutes worth of meetings on the last day of the week. It made the day go by very quickly. True, I never really pay attention in the meetings, preferring to either surf the web if a computer is handy or write out my thoughts or mock the person that is saying something inappropriate or just plain stupid. Either way, I enjoy not having to work...

Unscheduled meetings, however, are the worst. You never know what's coming, but you know its not going to be good. The last unscheduled meeting we had, we found out that they were cutting monthly bonuses. One before that, turned out to be a shilling session for the United Way, and one before that was to tell us that some of our leadership team were being reassigned, leaving us in the hands of unproven management. Needless to say when my manager told us to go to the conference room around 6:45 on Friday, I had a little trepidation.

I knew it wasn't going to be good when our team sat down, and then the site leader and two department managers joined us. Never being one to be able to hide my reactions, the shock showed on my face. I wondered what was wrong now. Were we going to lose our jobs? Did someone do something especially egregious that warranted this massive show of management? I really had no idea. Then the site leader spoke.

"I can see on your faces that you are surprised to have all of us here. Let me first say that this is not about anyone losing their jobs."

Relief poured through me. He continued..

"I do have to share some bad news with you though. Earlier today, one of your teammates, Jeffrey passed away."

I knew Jeffrey was sick. When I first met him, he was coming back from leave. He had been out of work for several months. Then later he had a stroke and missed some more time, before coming back and leaving again. He hadn't been at work for several months before his death. There had been talk about him coming back to work in March, but I didn't know if that was true. And now he was dead. People around me started crying, others, such as myself maintained a solemn facade. Nobody really knew what to say, as happens when bad news strikes. I scanned the room and took in the grief that some were feeling and wondered why I didn't feel the same. I mean, it was definitely bad news, but it didn't affect me deeply.

The words droned on, as people shared their memories and tried to work through it to get to a happy place. The phrase "that's what Jeffrey would have wanted" popped up several times. I started to feel bad that I had nothing to share. I didn't want him to die, but I didn't exactly have any appropriate memories to relay at the time. We weren't friends. Truth be told, he was annoying. I didn't like being around him because he was always begging for food, a ride, or $5. I was uncomfortable at his intrusive nature and his not so subtle attempts to find out if I was either gay, or messing with every girl that came by my desk. I actually wrote about him here *click link*. He was nosy, and I felt like anything he found out about me would soon become the office gossip. So, I did like I always do. I don't tell anyone about myself. No matter how many times he would try to interrogate me, I deflected, avoided, and flat out told him to mind his business.

So, yeah, we weren't friends. I didn't want him to die though. I felt bad that I was thinking about the things that annoyed me at a time like this. Why couldn't I just be like everyone else and be in mourning? Was something wrong with me? Do I really not care that Jeffrey died? Maybe, its just a man thing. Maybe men aren't in touch with emotions like that. No, that wasn't it. I did care. It just didn't hit me that strongly because we weren't close. I'm sure if it was someone I was friendly with I'd feel... something. As it was though, I just couldn't be like everyone else. I couldn't pretend to be broken up, because in truth, I wasn't. I didn't want him to die (I know I keep repeating this, but I want you to realize this is the truth), but it didn't personally affect me.

Monday, they had grief counselors on site to help people that needed it. People kept making vigils to Jeffrey's desk and crying. Some people came by just to be nosy. People I know didn't even know him. It was very annoying. I understand if you knew him, but if you don't even know who he was, why are you crying? They would ask "which one was Jeffrey?" The answer was always "Remember that dude that did the split at the meeting?" Or "Remember the people meeting when the guy went crazy bobbing for apples?" And then there would be tears. You don't know him! Now take your sobbing and be out. And then they all want to know how he died. I don't know. I have my suspicions, but I'm not gonna tell you. You don't even know him, and you don't know me, so it is entirely inappropriate for you to be asking.

There's a memorial service on Saturday. I'm going to be out of town, so I won't be going. Let's be honest though. I wouldn't have gone even if I was in town. I don't want to sound callous, but we weren't friends. I'm sorry that he's dead, but I don't have a desire to sit around and see people have emotions that I couldn't quite conjure up. Or even worse, see people displaying phony emotions. I just wish that I could feel some kind of way about it. I feel like a bad person for not having any emotion.

Damn, I hate unscheduled meetings.

Check Out The Scenario

Please excuse any typos. I cranked this out in 5 minutes at work and didn't have time to edit.

Check The Scenario:

Say you work for a multinational corporate conglomerate… One that employs around 200k people in the US alone… They are always talking about their strength and stability…in public. Privately, though, there’s talk of belt tightening, reduced bonuses, and worst of all layoffs.

Then say that this company pays a majority of its employees on a fixed pay schedule. The 15th and the last day of the month. It’s been like that since you’ve been working there and although you would like to get paid every two weeks like virtually everyone else you know that’s not a teacher, you’ve adjusted to the schedule.

Then say you get an email telling you that your mulit national conglomerate is changing the pay schedule so that everyone gets paid at the same time. Payroll will run on Fridays every two weeks. For a moment, you express your happiness like the rest of your peers at this supposed piece of good news. This change will go into effect in Mid March, with the first Friday payday being April 3rd.

Then say, you start reading between the lines and discover what is not explicitly written in the email. This means you will not be getting paid on 3/31 like you normally would. This means that payday is being pushed back 3 days, which although its not a big deal to your personally, is an inconvenience. And what about those people that have rent due on the first and don’t have a grace period. And what about incentive bonuses? How will those be handled now that we no longer get paid at the end of the month? And what about people that get quarterly bonuses… And then it hits you…

This might have been done intentionally.

Say your company is trying to put on a brave face in the midst of this global recession. Cuts are being made just about everywhere. Hell, they didn’t even put up a Christmas tree in your building to save on electricity. In spite of all the cutbacks, profits are down, just like virtually every other company. But the company has a responsibility to its share holders. You start thinking… When does the 1st fiscal quarter end: March 31st. When aren’t you going to be paid: March 31st! Can this really be a coincidence. You start thinking maybe you are over thinking it..

But the thought lingers in your head. How much money could they really save by not paying us. Just for kicks, you do the math. Of course, you have no idea what people make, so this is by no means scientific, but just say we take an lowball average of $1000 per employee. That adds up to 200 Million Dollars!!! Heaven forbid we add in quarterly bonuses and monthly bonuses. You shudder to think about how much money is not being reported properly. It’s impossible to say how much money that is. You think could they really be doing this to delay this expenditure until the second quarter when things will hopefully get better? You think to yourself: This is some Enron stuff. If you can figure out this move, then who knows what else is going on behind the scenes. Should you be worried???

Here’s my question: Are you being paranoid? Are you overthinking the situation? Are you just plain wrong? I’d love to hear your opinion!

Savannah Slang

This one started as Thursday Thirteen, but I abandoned it for 2 reasons: Number 1: I couldn’t think of thirteen things. And Number 2: You guys don’t read those for some reason. I figured I would trick you into reading by coming up with a fake title. LOL.

So, as most of you know, I was raised in Savannah, Georgia. As a northerner transplanted into this sleepy southern town at age 11, a lot of things were different than what I was used to. The weather, the food, the people. But most of all, the language. They said some stuff that I had never heard before and even after living there for 14 years, it still took some getting used to. Anyway, here are some of the words and phrases that permeated my youth in Savannah:

Steef – It means to steal. I don’t know if it’s a combination of steal and thief, but that’s what they used to say. I’ll use it in a sentence.
Example: Hey, man! Stop trying to steef my bike! My daddy gave me that and I ain't seent him in years.

Hey-ay – I remember when I first move down south, everybody said hey instead of hi or what’s up. And it’s that elongated hey that lasted like 2 syllables.
Example: “Hey-ay, Lakeisha! (Cuz all the girls had an name that started with la and ended with an a) How are you?

Box – This meant to hit or to fight or slap the fire out of someone.
Example: “You better back up or I’ma box you!”

Iknowdatright - This is the ultimate affirmation. And it always ran together. You can’t say I know that’s right if you really meant it. If you really mean it, you say something like this...
Example: “That girl’s weave was jacked up!!!” “Iknowdatright!”

Get the go – This is the 80’s Savannah equivalent of going steady. If you had a girlfriend, you were going with her. Somehow that got transformed to “getting the go.”
Example: “Aww, man! You a punk. You scared to get the go with LaCienaga!”

Skreets, skrimp, skrawberry – Str = Skr in Savannah talk. No further explanation need.
Example: “Hey dawg! Let’s go skrait down to River Skreet and get some skrimp and a skrawberry soda.”

Boonkie –it means booty, butt, arse, gluteous maximus. I had a homeboy that they called Sugar Boonkie which he for some reason answered to. I need to ask him about that if I ever see him again. And if you said “boonkie buddies” that meant they were having relations. Not only for ghey people, it also worked with men and women.
Example: “Laquienetica got a phat boonkie”

OOOkay –Pronounced OH!!! Kay. This annoyed me for the last few years I lived there. I don’t know where it came from, but I wish they would have refused delivery. You probably can’t get the full gist of how it sounds. It’s an extreeeeeeemly long O sound with a minor kay sound. Maybe I’ll due an audio clip so you can hear it sounds. Another affirmation.
Example: “I like that new OutKast album.’ “OOOkay, that thing is fie (fire.)"

‘tindo – Short for Nintendo. It stood for any video game system. You could be playing a Sega Genesis, and it was still tindo.
Example “Mama, Rommel won’t let me play ‘tindo with him.”

Blowed – Or blowing me. It means a couple of things. It means you are shocked. It means you are disgusted. It means you are annoyed. I wrote a long 3 part post called Blowed on my old blog. I’m not sure if this one was regional or not, because me and my homie Kareem got everybody on the Eastern Seaboard saying it. Or maybe, they were saying before they heard us, but you get my point.
Example: “Son, why is my job talking about laying people off. It’s really blowing me.” Or “I was so blowed when Falcons lost to the Cardinals the other day.”

Da C-Pote – This is short for seaport. They call Savannah the seaport city of the south. My people call it Da C- Pote. You don’t pronounce the r, you barely pronounce the t. “You don’t come over here disrespecting the Westside.
Example: "This da C-Pote, you lame!”

My Latest Obsession

I've been known to fixate on things over the years. My current obsession: The AFI 100 Years...100 Movies List. For those that don't want to click the link, basically in 1998, AFI (American Film Institute) compiled a list of the 100 greatest American movies over the last 100 years. It was voted on by 1500 people in the movie industry. There's all kinds of criteria that they use to pick the movies, but that's not important right now. What's important is my obsession...

A few years ago, I had the bright idea that I was going to watch all 100 of the movies on this list. I had seen some, but for some reason I thought that if I was going to be a true movie fan, I should watch them all. The idea languished in the recesses of my mind trapped behind other obsessions such as blogging, downloading every single song I could find by Little Brother and anyone remotely affiliated with the Justus League (What up, Adei? I know you think that's weird, but it is what it is. LOL) and watching the entire series of several TV shows, such as the Sopranos, Gilmore Girls, and countless British crime series. Yeah, I know that's a lot of obsessions, but at least I'm not hurting anyone, right?

Fast forward to late 2008. I'm dating Jameil and she is a documentary filmmaker. We started watching tons of movies, some documentaries and other's fiction. I got back in the swing of watching movies all the time. I remembered my old idea of watching all these movies and thanks to Netflix, Turner Classic Movies and the University of Florida library, I put the plan in action. First thing I did was make a list of all the movies I hadn't seen. There were around 55 out of the 100 I needed to watch. Then I started getting the DVDs in the mail from Netflix and taking advantage of their Instant Viewing option. I was making significant progress on the list. Some of the movies I thought I would hate (ie westerns and musicals), I actually liked. Conversely, some of the classic movies on the list were straight garbage to me (The Graduate, The French Connection, Midnight Cowboy.) I guess everyone has his own tastes. Before I knew it, I was down to like 25 movies when I discovered something. AFI updated their list in 2007. That meant that 27 more movies were added to the list. Sure, I could have just went with the original list, but what kind of obsessive behavior is that? I decided I was going to watch every single last movie on both the 1998 list and the 2007 list. I remembered that Turner Classic Movies often plays these movies, so I went to their website and got the schedule for when they were coming on. I added that to my list. I figured if they are coming on TV, I didn't need to wait for Netflix to send them to me. I flew through the movies with ease. It wasn't until I got to the end that I knew it would get more difficult.

See, there were several movies on the list that I was NOT looking forward to watching. The Marx Brothers movies (I think there were 2) took some self prodding to watch. Turns out I loved them. I also have a strong aversion to silent movies. There were way too many of them, and I just can't get into movies without dialogue (with the exception of Charlie Chaplin's City Lights. I actually liked that one.) For the most part I watched those on fast forward, only stopping to read those stupid title cards that explain what's happening in a particular scene. Even though I was dreading those, I made it through those with relative ease. Then the biggest problem: the racist movies. "Birth of a Nation" was basically a propaganda movie about the formation of the KKK. It was incredibly racist, and even though I watched it on fast forward, I saw enough horrible blackface caricatures and Klan glorification to last me 10 lifetimes. Also, Gone With The Wind. I haven't watched that one yet, but I seem to remember back when I was a militant midget (James Evans 1976), hearing about how it was racist. I will soon see, as it is one of only 2 movies I have left to watch.

How's that for obsession? In three months, I've watched at least 70 movies and only have 2 to go. "Gone With The Wind", which Netflix doesn't want to send me for some reason, and the 1939 version of "Wuthering Heights" which is supposedly out of print and not available anywhere, (although my sister who is sharing in my obsession says she found it in the library in Savannah and should be bringing it with her this weekend.) With any luck, I will be finished with this obsession by Monday, and ready to move on to the next one. Any ideas on what I should fixate on next?

Can We Talk About Something Else?

Anything? Please? I don't want to be anti social (okay, that's a lie), but do we really have to have the same conversation every day? I know we aren't exactly friends, but if we must converse, can we talk about a topic that doesn't involve sports, music, or some woman you think is hot?

I know the Falcons lost. I saw the game, I saw SportsCenter, I read about it on the Internet. I know the college football championship game is on Thursday. Yes, I'm gonna watch it. I know the Celtics have been slumping even losing to my Knicks the other day. Basically, I'm up on all the sports news. I don't really need to recap it with you every day.

And the music? No, I haven't gotten anything new. Even if I did, when I tell you about it, you have NO IDEA who I'm talking about, so why do we continue to have this facade of a conversation? We don't listen to the same music. You like that down south hood music. I like hip hop with actual lyrics and beats that don't sound like they were made on a Casio keyboard. And while I can appreciate a clever line about drugs as much as the next man, "quarter brick, half a brick, whole brick ayyy" doesn't exactly qualify. If that's your ish, as you say, we don't need to talk about music ever again.

And the women? Dawg, for real. I'm 34 years old. I think you are even older than I am. I left the locker room talk when I was actually required to be in a locker room. That's high school stuff, dude. There's nothing wrong with looking at women, but do you really have to look like you been in jail for two years and they done let you loose (Andre 3000, 2008). Do you not see women every day? Is it really a surprise that in a building that is 75% female, there are some attractive ones? Is calling them b*tches really what we are still doing in the '09? It's time to grow up.

Basically, I'm saying this on my blog, because I'm not gonna say it in real life. I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO YOU! But if we must can we please find another topic? I don't care what it is. We can talk about the migratory patterns of monarch butterflies for all I care. Anything but sports, music and women. That's been overdone. You're about to make me go back to the old school Rashan that spent his lunch break in the car to avoid these inane conversations. I guess this is why I don't have male friends.

The Incredibly Futile Search For Mexican Food On A Monday Night

I got home from work around 9:15. Jameil was waiting for me, ready to go get some Mexican. We headed to El Toro by the Northlake Mall. We pulled up around 9:30, but there was no one in the parking lot. That’s always a bad sign. Jameil got out to see what time they closed. Although they closed at 10, they looked like they were already shutting it down. We pretty much knew we weren’t gonna get what we wanted. I drove down La Vista, to another Mexican restaurant that I had seen, but never went to. Same thing there. Closed at 10, but nobody was there. Wait staff cleaning up and we didn’t want to be the last and only people in the spot. Before we left Jameil had looked on the internet and found another restaurant, a little farther away, but open until 1. As we drove through the rain, I started to get hungry. We finally arrived at the spot and saw that it was not only a Mexican restaurant, but a billiards hall as well. That immediately aroused my suspicions, but Jameil being far more adventurous than I was still down. I watched as a couple of guys went in the spot. They didn’t look like Mexican gangsters, so I was okay…until Jameil saw the sign…

GUNS NOT ALLOWED UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES

Yeah, we both had to pass on that one. Any place that has to tell you not to bring a gun, obviously has had problems with people bringing guns. Next…

So, in the same shopping center, there was this large, brightly lit restaurant called Santo Domingo or something like that. It looked safe. So we walked inside. You ever seen those movies when someone walks in the room and all activity stops for a minute? Yeah, that’s how this spot was. There were only a few people in there, but it seemed like it got mad quiet and they were eyeing us like how dare you interlopers step in our restaurant. After a few seconds, they went back to their domino game, and a non English speaking waitress sat us down and gave us menus. First thing I noticed was that this wasn’t Mexican food, it was Dominican, which I also knew from my uncanny knack of being able to tell what kind of Hispanic someone is. (I also now realize that Santo Domingo is a city in DR, but I wasn't thinking at the time.) The menu was in Spanish and English, and I was ready to leave. With the people looking over at us, and the menu not having burritos, oh and the $7 Margarita made with margarita mix, I wasn’t feeling it. Then it got worse. The waitress came to take our order and Jameil was asking questions about the entrees. The waitress had no idea what Jameil was saying. “Un Poquito English” or something like that. Somehow we managed to get across to give us a minute.

At that point, I was like we shouldn’t eat here. But I figured that I would get something to go, just so the trip wouldn’t be a total waste (and so they didn’t give us the Dominican sideeye for leaving. LOL) I ordered a Cuban sandwich. Can’t go wrong with that, right? So, we sat in the booth and waited for the food to come. And waited.. And waited… And then waited some more. All the time we were getting funny glances from the bones (or whatever dominoes is called in Spanish) players. It was an absurd comedy of errors. While we were waiting, I remembered that I had limited cash on me and wondered if they took credit cards. Jameil was like “Is this really a place you want to use your card?” She was right. I could just see my card number being used to buy Reggaeton CDs and soccer tickets. Luckily, Jam has some cash on her. Finally after about 15 minutes, she finally comes out with my sandwich and we leave.

We were going to another joint in Midtown that I thought stayed open until 1, but we had to pass my crib to get there and we were just tired of this futile search for Mexican food. You know what we did? Stopped at Sonic. LOL Not exactly what we were looking for, but at least we got to go home. Oh yeah, that Cubano??? That joint was banging! At least something was good about the food search.

Jameil

Is sooooooooooo awesome! My life is nothing without her. (Obviously) Georgia Bulldogs are the worst. GO GATORS!!! I'm getting an orange and blue tattoo tomorrow.