Sergio Part 1
Welcome back to work everyone. Here is a short story:
"Oh Man this bowl is sooo worth it," I say to myself, as i double fist a bubble and roll two joints for the night. I had just received the wake up call, 10:30 pm sharp, get your ass showered, get crunk, because we are going out tonight. "Where to?" I say. Meet us at Hand in Hand, then we're going to Clairemont Lounge. "Oh..its gonna be one of those nights." fire up again. get into car. peace.
line at hand in hand. lines lines, always lines. get in. hear my name being yelled at extremely high pitch and volume. SHUSTER! wow. need ya at a 2. shake hands with new people, get one of those teaser lap dances that girls like to do. get up and go to bar for drinks. one of these kinda nights calls for a shot of jack and a jack and coke. finish. go to clairemont lounge. driving, smoke joint #2.
pay cover. 10 bucks. i'm buck and i like to fuck. clairemont lounge is seedy as hell. let me set it up for you. RED lights cover most of the ceiling, except in the 8x8 dance floor area...that is dark and strobe lighty. full stocked bar, good drink prices. DJ spins house and funk and trip hop (is that a genre, because it should be). Lots of mini tables and seats in the back to chill, smoke a bliz, brown nose some hoes. Crowd... a mix, a great wide crazy mix. lots of white kids who just want to dance. lots of black chicks who came with their nuggas. lots of single black men dressed like archbishop don "magic" juan.
lotta pimps, lookin for fine jewish girls who tease too much and drink too much yack. the best part, STRIPPERS. but not just any strippers. strippers with the spam bursting from the can. strippers whose last meal was an entire other human being. thats right byatches, clairemont lounge is home to the fucking nastiest strippers alive. but theyre doin what they love, gotta give love to that. (read 1st paragraph, google.com claremont lounge if you want more)
so i am chillin at claremont lounge with some yatches. happy birthday. is head mandatory on girls for their birthdays too? katz take that one down for me will ya. anyway. drinking. dancing. avoiding eye contact with blondie and other such messes. i am in a haze. my sober driver FUCKED ME OVER (sorta not really) and left. so now i had to figure out a way to get home. stumbling, mumbling, we roll to late night pizza. no za for me, just more cigarettes. and a diet coke. loud screaming ensues. out of towners bitch about no new york pizza. if we were in new york, this pizza would have been ready as soon as we got here. if we were in new york, it wouldnt be taking a half hour. if we were in new york--Shut the fuck up, this is atlanta. chill with that prada bcbg shit, byatch.
finally, pizza comes. i find out they have called a friend to come pick us up. We wait outside. Hoopty chevy rolls up to curb. i am way faded at this point. mexican 30 year old sketchy man looks up at my face and says: Get In.
(to be continued.....Sergio Part 2)