Bootleg: The Conclusion

Part un

Part deux

Aiight, where was I? I had just found out that this girl was on some "I Am Sam" shit. I was a little embarrassed, but nobody really knew so I didn't have to worry about it. To top it off, I think whatever I was smoking wasn't just regular marijuana. I laid on my bed and reflected on the night that went by. I was listening to (and don't laugh) George Michael's "Listen Without Prejudice" album which is what I always played when I needed to think. Can't really give any other explanation except its a good CD and it works well as background music. Anyway, the shrill sound of my pager interrupted my meditation. I didn't recognize the number, but that wasn't too unusual because back then cats used payphones all the time. I called the number back:

Me: Ay yo! Somebody page Rashan?

Voice: Yeah, you that nigga in the maroon Tercel?

Me: Who is this?

Voice: I found your number in my girls pocket. I saw you drop off Jess'ca before.

Me: I don't know no Jessica.

Voice: Aw, nigga. You know her.

Me: Man, its late. What do you want?

Voice: What do I want? I want you to leave my girl alone. She told me what y'all did tonight.

Me: Oh, you talking bout Francesca. Man, I don't know what she told you, but I barely know her.

Voice: Just stay away from her. She's mine.

Me: Aiight, man. Ain't nobody tryna take your girl, although you may wanna try to keep her out of the club all the time.

Voice: Nigga, don't worry bout that. I'll handle my shit. You just make sure...

Me: Nigga, if you was handling your shit, then we wouldn't be having this conversation. I'm out, son!

Let's see if I got this straight: Unattractive, mentally challenged, blunt-lacer, and using me to make her man jealous? If that wasn't a recipe for disaster, I don't know what is. I decided that some stuff in my life was going to have to change. For one, no more going to the club every damn day. I needed to avoid seeing Bootleg. Also, I decided no more smoking weed with people I didn't know. Unless you were in my circle, I wasn't going to partake. Finally, no more being drunk in public. I didn't plan on stopping altogether, but it would be in the confines of my home or someone else's I trusted. I finally managed to turn my brain off and doze off. I awoke the next morning refreshed and confident that I had put this episode behind me.

And I did for awhile. For a good two months, I stayed out of the club. I would just hang out at people's houses or spend time with the ladies. I didn't even get drunk like I used to. I managed to do like they say on the commercials...drink responsibly. I hadn't heard from or seen Bootleg. One night, I was invited to hang out at the club for some one's birthday, and against my better judgement, I decided to go. I figured enough time had passed and that I could make it through just one night. Well, you already know what happened: Bootleg was up in the place. She saw me before I saw her, so I couldn't escape. What happened next is messed up. I don't even know how I came up with these lies, but they flowed as if from a spring of pure evil.

Bootleg: Where da fuck you been, nigga!

Me: Shit, I was locked up. (BIG LIE #1)

Bootleg: For what?

Me: I got a DUI that night. Cops said I had weed and cocaine in my system. I have never done coke in my life. (BIG LIE #2)

Bootleg: Aw, I dusted the blunt. You wanna smoke one now?

Aha - I knew it. I know I couldn't be that high just off some weed.

Me: Nah, I quit. I just got out of jail, I'm not trying to go back (BIG LIE #3)

Bootleg: "Let's get outta here."

Me: Nah, I don't have my car. I'm riding with them tonight. Besides, I don't want your baby daddy getting mad. (BIG LIE #4)

The conversation took a serious turn here:

Bootleg: Fuck that nigga. He think he own me just cuz I'm pregnant.

Me: DAMN!! You pregnant again? How you gonna be drinking and smoking and you pregnant?

Bootleg: Oh, you sound like my social worker.

Me: Your social worker? Why you got a social worker?

Bootleg: Fuck that. You gonna get up on this ass or what?

Me: Nah, I'm good. I can't fuck with you. You got too much going on with ya.

I dipped to the bar and broke my no getting drunk in public rule. I used to be a stress drinker and dammit I was stressed. I couldn't fathom that she was pregnant and still doing the same things. Even back then, when I didn't really care about anything but my own personal gratification, that shit bothered me. 3 drinks later, Bootleg found me again. I was 2 steppin (cuz I must reiterate, I can't dance) with this girl that I knew from college. Bootleg came up behind me and grabbed my shoulder.

Bootleg: I know you wanna fuck... let's go over in the corner.

Me: Get the hell on. I'm busy.

Bootleg: I don't have on no drawers.

Me: For real, now! Go somewhere.

College girl left and I was posted up on the speaker, blowed. I couldn't believe that I found myself in the same position again. Bootleg grabbed at my crotch. This time I wasn't high and stopped her. But she was persistent. I don't know if it was the crazy or the drugs, but she was just not trying to hear that I wasn't interested. She kept trying to kiss on me and shit and I kept pushing her off. I finally had to just leave the club. I didn't even say goodbye to the people I was hanging with. I just stormed outside and Bootleg of course followed.

Bootleg: Shawn! Shawn! Where you going?

I didn't look back. I wasn't in the mood to be understanding or sensitive or politically correct. I wanted to just get the hell out of there as quickly as I could. I jumped in the car and started it up. Bootleg started banging on the window.

Bootleg: Shawn! Shawn!

I tried to pull the hell off, but I missed first gear and the car stalled. That gave Bootleg enough time to pick up a bottle and throw it at my whip. It smashed on the driver's side window. Luckily, I didn't have the window rolled down, cuz it would have hit me right in the grill and messed up my pretty face. LOL. I got the car in gear and rolled out. I could see her in the rear view mirror cursing and gesticulating.

Change was necessary. I talked about it before, but this time I had to be about it. I couldn't get caught up in those strange situations anymore. I basically became a hermit for awhile. When people would try to get me to go out, a big neon sign flashed in my head that said "BOOTLEG! BOOTLEG!" And this time I heeded the warnings. The whole Bootleg scenario made me lose interest in the club scene.

That's not to say that I didn't do anything. I became the king of the house gathering. My crib was the number one spot for drinking, smoking and general debauchery for the next year. And that's also not to say that I wouldn't find a new stalker in the next year, cuz ummm. yeah, I did. But at least I never saw Bootleg anymore. I wonder how many damn kids she has now.

Okay, I'm glad to be finished with this damn story. It was so much stuff in here that I forgot until I started writing it. I can already tell I'm gonna be one of those old cats that tell 3 hour stories while his grandkids try to sneak away. LOL. I tell you the truth is stranger than fiction. Oh yeah, remember this happened a long ass time ago. Any mistakes that may have been made can be chalked up to youthful indiscretion. Right? Right? Happy Monday, Peeps!

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.

Bootleg

Okay this shit is gonna sound unrealistic, implausible, fallacious, yet I promise you its true. It's a story from almost 10 years ago, so don't judge me too harshly. This is the story of Bootleg, especially for The Goddess...

1998 - Savannah, Georgia

As a newly single man of 23, I made it my life's mission to have as much fun as humanly possible. I went to work at 9 in the morning and often times, I was still drunk from the night before. I would get a couple of hours of sleep, work a 10 hour day, then hit the spot again. Now, in Savannah, there weren't too many places to go, so we developed a routine. Wednesday and Friday Nights we would go to "The Zoo." Thursday and Saturday Nights, we were at "Frozen Paradise." In retrospect it didn't really make too much sense to be in the club that much since I can't and don't dance, but it was more for the hanging out with my people and occasionally meeting a new girl. That's how I met Bootleg.

One night me and my boys were at "The Zoo" drinking Alize as per usual and probably smoking some Chronic. We called it the Chronic, but it was really just some dirt weed. This was around the time that No Limit was kings of the fucking club. Every two weeks a new No Limit album would come out and have people up in the club losing their minds. I mean, cats would be throwing elbows, and making mean mugs with their boys, while hopping up and down to the bass heavy sounds of Master P, Silk the Shocker, Mystikal, Mia X, and so on and so on. Being a bit of a music snob, I didn't really like the music, but it mixed very well with the intoxicants I constantly had in my system and even I joined the pseudo mosh pits. This night, while me and the boys were "getting buck" as we used to call it, Bootleg came and joined in.

It was rare that a female would join the cypher, because dudes were known to get reckless with the flying appendages. So you would see a gang of niggas in the middle of the floor, while the ladies just stood by edges, sipping on something waiting for the New Orleans set to end. Bootleg didn't give a damn. She walked right up to the crowd and started pushing people, and throwing bows and shit. She was straight thug with hers. Later that night as we were leaving the club, we saw her walking down the street by herself. Well, more like staggering. I pulled up to her and asked if she needed a ride. I had my homeboys Kareem and Tori with me and I know it must have looked like we were scheming on her, but really, Savannah can be a dangerous place, especially for drunk Black female wearing some short ass shorts.

She recognized us from the club and asked us drop her off at some apartments on Abercorn. I don't know how she thought she was gonna walk all the way there in her state, but she got in and I dropped her off. Along the way, we got to know each other a little. Her real name was Francesca, but everybody called her Bootleg. She was a couple years older than me and had a couple of kids. She said she is always at "The Zoo" and told me next time I went to come find her. She told me to drop her off on the corner, and I did, and then headed back to my side of town.

The next couple of times we went to the club, Bootleg was always there. Always drunk and always wearing some shorts that showed off her ass. A couple of times I noticed she was looking at me like she wanted to do something, but Bootleg was so not my type. Her body was banging, but her face was just... she was what they call a Butterhead. She wasn't ugly, per se, but she looked rough, like she had experienced a long hard life beating her down. Plus she had gold fronts and that was just not appealing to me at all. Bootleg also seemed less than intelligent and whenever we talked I had to dumb myself down. No conversations about anything other than music and drinks. One Wednesday night, she wanted to leave the club early, but didn't have a ride, so being the gentleman I was, I told her I would take her. I left Kareem and Tori at the club, and went to take her home. The plan was to drop her off and be back in like 30 minutes. Only, what I didn't realize at the time, is that Bootleg was looking for a ride all right, just not in the car.

My Tercel was parked off of Henry St, in a dark alley behind a bank. We got in the car and I started it up, and got ready to pull off when she told me to hold up. She wanted to just chill for a minute before going home. So we sat in the car talking about God knows what for awhile. She grabbed my hand and placed it on her thigh. She then reached under her shirt and took off her bra through her shirt sleeve. I was a little tipsy, but not so tipsy that I didn't know what was going on. She wanted me to smash her in public. I won't bore you with the explicit details, I'm sure you can read between the lines, but we did just about everything you can do in small ass Tercel, without doing that. The SPD kept rolling by and finally they decided that it was time for us to go. I took her to her crib, but when I started to get out and go with her, she stopped me.

Bootleg: Nah, nigga. My baby daddy in there.

It was cool. I didn't go into the night with intentions of having sex with her anyway, but since the opportunity arose, I went with it. Besides, the club was damn near about to close, and I had left my people there. I'm sure they were looking for me. I jetted back just in time to catch them leaving the club. I told them what happened and they had mad jokes for me. It made for an interesting ride back to the Southside.

A couple days later, I was back in "The Zoo", this time with my home girl Senita and some coworkers. Senita was a platonic friend, but we had an extra flirty friendship. We would walk holding hands or with our arms around each other, but we never did it. So, we are walking up to the club all touchy feely like we always did, when Bootleg comes out and gets in Senita's face. I'm like WTF is this?

Bootleg: Is this skinny bitch your girl? Cuz she wasn't your girl the other night!

Me: Whoa, chill out with that. Da hell is wrong with you?

Bootleg: Nigga, I'm just saying, you gonna bring your skinny bitch up into my club. I'm finna beat her ass if she don't stop looking at me like that.

Senita: Uh-Uh, Rashan. Why is this ghetto girl all up in my grill? She don't know me like that. I'm from Brick City!

Senita was from Jersey, and she didn't take no shit from anybody, so it was about to be on. Back then I had even less tolerance for bullshit than I have now, so I didn't even wait for an explanation. I just kept it moving to the club with Senita and I may have repeated some misogynistic rap lyric to Bootleg, I can't remember. LOL. All night, I felt Bootleg's eyes on me. It got so uncomfortable, that we left "The Zoo" and walked over to Frozen Paradise where it was Reggae Night. That night I actually danced. I had no choice. Senita and the rest of my female co workers dragged me on the floor where I pretended like I had some riddim. We had a fucking ball that night dancing to some music that I couldn't understand. That is until I looked up at the bar and saw Bootleg, staring at us with a menacing glare...

Okay, didn't realize this was gonna be so long. Should I post part 2 today, or should I wait? I'll let you guys decide. I'm gonna finish writing it now including the origins of the name "Bootleg." Happy Friday!