Anyhoo, I am on the phone gossiping with Mother-and I am asking her if she or my sister need anything and I would drop it off or what not. While standing in line, I like to give people their personal space so they don’t feel trapped by the rear of my basket, the shelves that display the fat man’s weakness (Candy, toiletries, the trial size items, make you splurge at the last minute items…) and their basket, not to mention every thing else going on around them.
So out of nowhere this gust of wind swoops on my right and hops in line in front of me. I stop, pause and think and politely say,
“Excuse me sir, I was in line.”
“No you weren’t mutherfucker! I didn’t see you.” The wide Mexican man shouted.
Without even thinking, I immejiately dropped all of my sadiddyness, and acted like I didn’t roll up to the Target in a Hummer-and got Ghetto on his ass!
“Muthafucka who the fuck do you think you’re talking to like that, you fat, burrito & bean eatin’, super-sized, crusty foot, hammer toe, broken English speakin’ bastard! I know you saw me in the muthafuckin’ line! BIATCH”
“Fuck you, you were on your phone-you weren’t in line.”
”No BITCH! Fuck you, you saw me in line and if you had any kinda fuckin’ sense you would step your ass out of line-cause you really askin’ to get fucked up in Target! Tonight is not the night to fuck with me hoe!” I shouted.
My mother was in my ear sayin’ “Oh lord they got him rowed up!” She was silent. As I knew she enjoyed (sometimes) hearing the creative things I could say during a bitchout.
So then the lady behind me said “Sir he was in line.” She was Mexican too. Keep in mind that it’s closing time, the store had already made it’s “Attention Target guests the time is now 10:00 and your Target location is now closed, please bring all your final purchases to the front of the store for immediate check out…” spiel.
So I had an audience. At least 80 people tryin’ to check out. See I try to be low key out in public, but then I loose all of my marbles.
Then the man pushes my basket and lunges towards me “Fuck you mutherfucker alright!”
“No fuck yourself AGAIN BITCH! And watch where the fuck you’re stepping. If you get closer I am gonna fuck you up!” I reached in my back pocket (inconspicuously) to pull out my instrumentation, see. I don’t travel without it. Because I am a shit talker, and people like Chgocutie and Frank have it out for me, so I have to be prepared when I travel you see…You not gonna be comin’ at me all sideways for havin’ opinions, viewpoints and strong verbiage…ain’t gonna happen. Get Stepped TO!
“Don’t threaten me in front of my kids!”
“FUCK YOU AND YOU’RE UGLY ASS KIDS! GO HOME AND FUCK YOUR WIFE WHILE YOU’RE AT IT AND MAKE SOME MORE UGLY KIDS, YOU RUDE, INCONSIDERATE BITCH!” (Me yelling rude and inconsiderate-while I am being the typical negroidian in Target right..?)
He backed off and without warning, and rightfully so. He saw that look of love in my eye. It’s all in the eye honey; it’s all in the eye. So security rushed the scene. A Black on Mexican crime was about to occur…and sense the racial tension in L.A. is thick as thieve that had to prescribe something for the remedy, Antonio Viallraigosa, our newly appointed Latino Mayor…
“Sir please calm down…” The big burly, bouncer-esque ballhead duo came and said simultaneously as if they were programmed to say it. As if they had seen this scenario play out in the 10 items or less line before.
“I am calm! I don’t appreciate this rude, inconsiderate, son of a butter churnin’ bitch, cutting in front of me in this line and then turning the shit around on me! Fuck him! And the Truck he rode in on!”
So then the man offers to let me go in front of him. I say “NO you’re shit is already up there, go ahead, BIATCH”
So security leaves and I resume conversation with my mother to explain to her what happened, so while the man is ear hustling he says,
“It’s over why are you still talking about it!?”
“Bitch why the fuck are you talking to me? And why are you in my conversation, you don’t pay Sprint Hoe! Turn around and shut the fuck up bitch!”
So this time Susan Wong comes over and calms me down yet again and takes me to another line to check out. While all the while I am chuckling to myself, I thought the situation was pretty hilarious myself. I don’t like bitches thinking they can just do whatever and whenever-what do I look like? PAHLEASE. And then I am just laughing at how engaged in ignorance I’ve become, but sometimes it’s warranted…
But WELCOME! I am so glad that you came to luxuriate with me today! Another Manic Monday! Thank you for letting me take up occupancy in your brain. I love you for coming to my blog and experiencing me first hand!
Shout Outs to: My informants all over! I love you so much for giving me that info…camera phones are a mess. And so are some of you bloggers…Shot outs to NO4Real for being so REAL, FOR REAL!! Was that an interview or what!? Shawn-TaQuan…(lol) Rashek from D.C.-I appreciate you. NO MATTER WHAT ANYONE ELSE DOES, I’M TRENT! And you’re you! I appreciate you for what you bring to the table-don’t let anyone tell you otherwise…
So after my explicit Target episode I got a call from my ex. WOW. We never talked about him, nor I am going into detail about the whole situation. But we’re back on speaking terms…and it looks like we have the possibility of being friends. I think he is a great person and has the potential to be such a beautiful man, if he would just grow up and stop letting outside influences dictate his actions on dealing with me. I mean you’ve slept in my bed, ate my filet mignon that I made for you at 2 a.m., you’ve spent some of the most intimate moments with me, you know me inside and out and yet you let people tell you bullshit about me and think that I have ulterior motives? OH BOY GIVE ME A BREAK ALREADY. He knows me, intimately. Like no one else has done before. He’s the only one that I loved (so far) and even though he chewed me up, swallowed me, and spit me out like a bulimic white girl…for some strange reason there is still a place in my heart that wants to forgive him, that wants to let it go (I have). That wants him to be successful, that wants him to grow, that wants to be with me…but I am not one to go back in time…
”I don’t know what the future holds, but I’m living in the moment…and I’m thankful for the man that you are, you are, you are…”
(Those of you who have my book can put this together...)
I watched the sun come up with this guy named “Spade” (Also a la NO4REAL, he gives people interesting code names) I went to his house at 3 a.m. for a booty call, but it ended up being an enlightening refreshing conversation that included watching the sun come up. 5 hours later with no condom wrappers opened, no bodily fluids extracted-my mind was expanded and introduced to the realness of life. For once, someone is as crazy as my real self is. Someone can actually make me laugh instead of me cracking wise ones, and whispering witties in their ear all night. Although he did make reference to my booty and how he got along really well with “thickies” and how my ass reigns supreme…and he wanted to know why I haven’t let anyone hit that yet…LOL usual, typical nigga shit-it was expected. But it was all good though. He’s a nice guy and he’s hella smart-hyper-intelligent even. Nothing is expected by this meeting of the two great minds-but it would be nice to have him as a friend.
Don’t you hate it when you get irate with you cell phone company or whomever you give your money to, to provide you with services and they hire idiots to handle their customer service? And then when you get loud they hang-up on you cause they know they’re wrong…(side note)
Anxiety is building. Tomorrow I have a reading & Discussion of my book with In The Meantime Men’s Group…wow…I always get scared when I have book event….
Coming up: My Book event, 4 ½ weeks until Atlanta, Down For Whatever, Sons & My Friday Finale. Thanks for stopping in for another episode of Live & Up Close With Trent Jackson! I love what I do for you-and I wont know you’re here unless you tell me….
Reality Show is in the works…
Remember the name: Trent Jackson
Remember the face: Star Quality
Remember the M.O.: Unlimited Potential