The author

The author

Tuesday, July 19, 2016

WASHED



I ain't got it no mo 

I believe I’m becoming washed and my definition for washed may not be the same as everybody else's. My definition is someone with no hoes, that don't be popping, the opposite of lit, dry and all things boring. Not all of these words fit my criteria but none the less I feel like I'm becoming too old for this shit. I figured that I was becoming washed one Sunday in October after club jumping at the Gryphon and Barcöde. I was due to work the next morning at 6:45 am but found myself walking into my house at 3: 15 am drunk off of Rosé Moët, smelling of the loudest pac and wanting chicken wings. The next day at work I was a complete mess. I believe I was late and could barely make it thru the day. The Moët gave me diarrhea, which is something I heard that happens if you drink too much of it. I consumed the contents of 4-5 of the 12 bottles that was being passed around between the men I was with. I was a complete mess & that def was not the best decision I have ever made. 

This past weekend I was smarter. I waited for events that was popping on the weekend and even though one of the events was on Sunday it was over earlier enough for me to recover. Luckily for me I'm unemployed so I don't have to worry about any pesty job getting in the way of my fun. (Sarcasm alert)  

The Third Broccoli City Festival was held in the Nation's Capital and finally I had actually bought a ticket so that I was able to attend. It was a rainy dreary day at the end of  April with the temperature reaching only 65 degrees. I figured when I bought the ticket in February that it wouldn't feel like Febraury by the time April came. None the less I drank some Dusse and went out to face the elements. I took an uber down to the DC Pavillon which is also the located on the grounds of the St. Elizabeth Hospital. St. Elizabeth is known for once being a Federally operated psychiatric hospital. It is a DC landmark and has been around since 1855. 

Man I have never been around that many black people... ever! It was all sorts of black people there. Hippy, preppy, slutty, thuggy. Whatever your cup is, there was something there to fill it. Of course my first thought seeing all this melanin in one location was that somebody was going to fight. But that didn't happen. There was vendors, live art performances, music performances (local and big names), abundance of pac smoke, and abundance of people. I got there later then what I had expected to mainly because I just wanted to see Future and Jhene Aiko. Either way I was there and I was going to enjoy myself. After walking up the steps to the top of the Pavillon I was finally able to see what was happening around me. I had to elevate myself to appreciate it all. And the sight was beautiful. On my right people in unison not on no bullshit dancing to Rare Essence, on my left some rapper going off with a crowd bigger then the one on the left. The familiar smell of potent marijuana tickled my noise hairs and I watch people roll up despite the police presence when you walk in. I sipped my Jameson and smiled. I can't tell you why I felt like I was at peace but I was.  Once the scenic view was over with, we headed to the main stage to see Jhene Aiko. Of course the main area where the big name celebrities was packed, that's what big names do. But it wasn't no push back when you tried to push thru it was mean mugs but hey some of us just have that type of face. As it rain Jhene came on  and she sang sweet melodies of broken hearts, of love and of booty getting ate like groceries.

While we waited for Future Hendrix I had to go use the bathroom. Smh my bladder is super weak. Another reason I know I'm not made for this hanging out bullshit. I need to stay close to the bathroom while drinking. My friend and her homegirls left so I stood by myself in the rain as Future begin to perform his hits. I ran into my homeboy while down there so after Future mumbled about all of the things he mumbles about we went to the Hamilton for buffalo wings and Mac and cheese taters. Not a bad night.

The next morning I struggled with getting out of my bed. It wasn't like I went to bed late, I just didn't feel like getting up. I made me a cup of peppermint tea, warmed up some doughnuts and ate sliced pineapples while praying to the Heavens that I get some strength to attend the Coolest Best Day Ever. It was a collaboration of Henny Palooza and Cup Set held at the infamous Stadium Club DC. I heard on my favorite pod cast Tax Season that the Henny Palooza guys was saying that DC was the worst city they went to when they did Henny Palooza last year and they didn't know if they was going to come back to do it again. I hope they come back because being that their event was held on a Sunday, I wasn't  drunk enough (which is probably a lie, I was probably just where I needed to be lol #lushlife) and had to leave at 8 so I could drop my homeboy off and make it in time for Game of Thrones. 

It was a mix of music and drinks. Oh and can't forget the food. At 6 or so the strippers came out and begin to shake their money makers. Joe Budden and Rory from "I'll name this podcast later"  podcast was there, so was Desus Nice from the "Bodega Boys" podcast. I was for mildly too hype when I noticed Desus was there. He's also one of my favorite podcasters. I kept it cool tho. It was a fun day pordy. And I hope that was just a tast of what 

 Even though I didn't close my eyes until after 12 watching my HBO Sunday line up and reruns of the line up when I woke up at 7:30 Monday morning I wanted to scream but my body wouldn't let me go back to sleep. At lunch with a friend is when it happened. That's when I realized it. I didn't want to be in denial anymore. I was muddafucking tired. I ordered me a Blue Moon to try to get back to feeling like myself. That helped but I realized I didn't want another hard drink until the weekend... 3 weekends from now!   I'm not a quitter but I am taking a hiatus from drinking. And I did an awesome job of not drinking…


Until…the next weekend. 

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