Bow Chicka Wow Wow!

Ok, I can admit it, I'm a spaz.  This is evidence by the fact that it took me four tries to spell the word spaz right.  Even further evidenced by the fact that I am constantly screwing up dates and shit.  You see, this week was my girl Bizzy's birthday, she sent me an evite to her party, which was being held at a club in the city.  Sunday is also Slick's birthday, (Time Out:  GO SAGGS!  GO SAGGS!) so when I was chilling with him last Sunday, I brought up the party that Bizzy was having on Saturday the 14th.   Cool he says, can you ask her if she can put you on the list for like 14 people?  I call Bizzy, sure no problem, just mention such and such list when they get to the door and they should be cool.  Bizzy and I also get to talking and she tells me she's still not sure how she's getting there and let her know if I'm coming by myself because she may be driving and there will be no one else in the car.  I already invited Cousin T and Bobby, but Bobby has already gotten back to me to say that she didn't think she would be going out, she's in school for her masters, and since Cousin T is working on her PhD, I figure same deal.  Sure enough a day later, I talk to Cousin T and she's got a shitload of class work.  

Friday rolls around, and it started off kinda crappy cause I couldn't find my check book and the mortgage is due on the 15th.  Yes I'm old fashion, I don't like paying that shit online or electronically,  I want a person to blame and a receipt thank you very much!  So I was kind of dragging all day, cause even though I found it, it threw me off.  I finally unwind and its like 9, I say to myself, self call Bizzy and see if she's set for tomorrow night.  "Hey girl, whats what, I was just calling to see how you're getting there tomorrow night?"  "Trouble what the hell have you been smoking, my parties tonight!"  Uh, oooops?!  Make matters worse, no she doesn't have anyone to ride with her, can I?  She needs to be at the club at 12:30.  what the fuck am I going to wear?  Three dresses pop into mind.  Shit, what about Slick?  Quick phone call and we're good, he'll see me later at the club.  Fuck, Cousin T!  She's in the house doing some work, damn she wanted to go out too, but hold on T cause Slick may still want to go out on Saturday.

Oh to make matters worse, I just downloaded a new ringer for my phone, Chocolate Rain, and everytime I hear "Chocolate Raaaaaaaaaain!..." I crack the fuck up and have to compose myself in order to answer the phone.  Best ringer ever, right after the pinball song from Sesame Street (1,2,3,4,5  6,7,8,9,10  11,12!), and Back to Black.  But I did manage to get dressed and ready by 12:30.  Bizzy didn't show up til 1 but thats another matter.  I was ready.  So we get to the City, and the promoter is not at the Club.  Which means we're going to have to wait on line.  Wait, not so much a problem cause Slicks already there and on line.  Wait, problem cause Bizzy's not sure if we are going to have to pay and the dude the promoter told her to call isn't answering his phone.  Wait, bigger problem cause Slick, as usual, is wearing Jordans and they, as usual, don't want to let him into the club in sneakers.  "Nah, Troub go on in enjoy yourself, I'll catch up with you later."  

Still can't find the promoter and we're going all over the club trying to find Bizzy's peeps, and see where they set her up in VIP.  Errrrrrrrrk!  Thats the screeching halt that was the whole VIP thing.  Seems the promoter didn't set her up anywhere.  No matter, find me a Grey Goose and pineapple juice and all will soon be right with the world.  Errrrrrrrrrrrrrrrk Crash Boom Blow The Fuck Up!  Bizzy doesn't drink, and I'll be damned if I'll be the (cover your eyes Danae! Seriously skip ahead to the next paragraph Ok?) high reeking of trees AND drunk off her ass friend.  My self medication might have had something to do with the fact that I was hella calm and mellow during this whole shit.  

So, Bizzy decides to gather her posse and roll out to eat.  She's organizing and I'm standing at the top of the three stairs that lead down to the dancefloor.  I see this adorable little dude (I have a weakness for guys who are like my height without heels, don't know why)  whose song clearly just came on.  I'm standing there smiling at his antics and he looks up, stops dancing and climbs up and over the little railing that separating me from the dance floor.  "Hello gorgeous"  I swear the boy is maybe 23 or 24, but adorable as all shit, who know I had a thing for freckles?  So he tells me his name, and I'm gonna call him Aig, cause it was either Craig, Greg, Dre, or something along those lines.  And he tells me that he's a pharmaceutical technician and I'm thinking, boy drug dealers are really coming up with some creative new things to call themselves, but it turns out I'm an ass and apparently think the worse in people cause it turns out he really works in a pharmacy.

And no, I didn't flat leave Slick, I called him as soon as we left and he met us at the restaurant.  I'm also supposed to see him tonight.  And oh shit, fries with fresh shaved parmesan and truffle oil is my new favorite thing!