7 Days In Savannah: Bolo

It was a hot summer day in Savannah. The type where all you wanna do is take 3 or 4 showers and drink a slushy. The kind of day when tensions rise along with the mercury, and you never know who will be the next victim. The kind of day that puts the temper in temperature. I could have very well become the next statistic on the crime sheets that day. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me start from the beginning.

My homeboy Tori was working at the Golden Corral at the Oglethorpe Mall, and, I decided to go get the hook up and hang out with him. I generally avoid buffets at all costs, but being that I was cheap and a poor college student, I bit the bullet and chowed down. I have to admit, it was pretty good, especially for the price (free). Anyway, by the time I finished eating, Tori was getting off work, and I was gonna drop him off at home to change and then hit up Frozen Paradise later that night. As we were leaving, this guy he knew came up to us...

"Hey, can you drop me in Cloverdale?"

Cloverdale was nowhere near where we were going. We were Southside boys, and Cloverdale was completely in the other direction. But before I could say no, Tori interjected.

"Yeah, we got you!"

I was mildly annoyed, but honestly I didn't really care. Even back then I was always down to drive around aimlessly. Plus gas was like .89 cents, so it was really no big deal. I just didn't like being around people I didn't know. Only, I did kinda know this guy.

"Rashan, you remember Bolo, right?"

I did remember him. From summer school in the 10th grade. I somehow managed to fail Advanced English (probably because I never did any homework) and had to go to Beach High School for six weeks that summer. He was in my English class. That joint was mad remedial, but that was my punishment for slacking off all semester. I had to suffer dummies who couldn't put together a sentence to save their lives. I passed the time by writing rhymes and by the end of summer school, I had enough material to put out two or three albums. One of the few bright spots was meeting up with kids from other schools and utterly destroying them in a freestyle rap battle. I was the reigning freestyle champ of summer school. One day, me and Bolo met up. I still remember the wack rhyme he tried to get me with...

"I rap better than one, I rap better than all/I even rap better than aluminum foil..."

For real? That's what you thought was a hot line? I murdered him with the rhymes. It's funny that I can't remember what I said, but I will never forget his line. When it was over, he sulked and glanced menacingly towards me the rest of the summer.

"Yeah, I remember him.. What's up my man?"

"Chillin'. Thanks for the ride."

During the car ride home, Bolo was talking incessantly. He still had dreams of being a rapper, which I had long since abandoned in favor of a college education. He told us about his record deal with a local Savannah record label. That was funny to me, since he supposedly got a phat advance, but was working at Golden Corral and bumming rides from my broke tail. Then the talk turned to the streets. Thug this, gangster that, hoe this, b*tch that... I was done. I decided to call him on his crap...

"Son, you ain't no gangsta! Chill wit all that"

"Oh I'm not? Then what you think this is for?"

I looked back and he was holding a .38. My face immediately dropped. It didn't occur to me that he might shoot me with it. I was just thinking, what if the police see him?

"I'm a thug, my nigga! I shoot lames for fun."

Tori busted out laughing, while I wasn't quite in on the joke. Bolo continued...

"I'll shoot the next nigga that pulls up to the side of us. I don't give a f*ck. I'm crazy!!!"

"I believe you man. I was just messing with you. Go on and put that gat up."

"I'm saying.. you can't be calling me out. You wanna see what I'll do?"

"Nah, man I'm good. Now how bout you just put that up before five-0 sees you."

"Man, F*CK THE POLICE!! I'll blast them too. You Southside clowns don't know nothing about a thug."

"You right, man! My bad for doubting you..."

"You could be next. That's all I'm saying..."

I turned the music up louder and said just about nothing else for the rest of the ride. Tori was still laughing and Bolo was rapping along to whatever I was playing on the CD player. I glanced in the rear view occasionally to make sure I wasn't about to get shot, and finally arrived in Cloverdale. As he got out the car, Bolo says...

"Thanks for the ride man! Lemme give you a couple dollars for gas."

Huh? Did this dude that just threatened to shoot me just offer me gas money?

"Nah, Don't worry about it. Peace."

"Peace, my nigga!"

Tori and I rolled out back to the Southside.

"Yo, what is up with your boy?" I asked.

"I forgot to tell you, he's a little loco."

"A little? Did you see how he just flipped out on me? Is he bi polar or something?"

"I don't know. He's just a little unstable."

"For real, I'm not f*ckin' with no more of your people...ever!"

If only that was true. I wound up hanging out with all kinds of weirdos, psychos and derelicts in the coming years. And because you guys always ask me what happened to the people I write about. Last I heard, (which is over 10 years ago) Bolo caught an armed robbery case and got 8-10 years. I never did hear anything from his alleged record deal.