Rollin' Wit My Niggaz...

So, I know that wasn't very PC...but that was my weekend... Besides, as I mentioned earlier, I am now White Chocolate, and albino African American. Deal with THAT, byoch.

Anywho...my coworker (who for the purposes of this blog shall be called Sharqueetha) and I arrived in Atlanta on Friday afternoon at approximately 1:00pm EST. We headed to Budget so I could rent a car. Now, I don't know how many of you out there have tried renting cars as a 22 year old, but they charged me $23/day for the car, $25/day for being under age 25, and $10/day for using a debit card...Bitches.

We got a Neon. We weren't in said Neon for 5 minutes before Sharqueetha had found a suitable hip hop station and discovered that our little Neon could thump like a muthufukuh... We found our Hampton Inn and went our separate ways to get settled in. Two hours later, after Skipper told me to get off the damn internet and explore Hotlanta, Sharqueetha and I drove over to another co-worker's hotel for the open bar @ their manager's reception.

Now, most of you should know that while the term "Open Bar" is initially titilating, it also means that you're about to get served up the cheapest-ass liqour ever made, and large quantities of cheap liqour can mean large quanities of vomit...more to come on that...

After three hours and countless rum-n-cokes, we drove to The Cheesecake Factory to eat like crazy on the company's dime. And drink like crazy on the company. And 'drink like crazngy on the acompany. And drink like cra;asodng gdgon teh coap;nmany.... Well, you get the picture.

So, we decided it would be wiser to go to a club that was close enough to walk, as opposed to trying to drive... Our feet took us to Dyme. It is at this club, which also had an open bar, that I obtained the nickname "White Chocolate".

I first approached Charnise because she was there with her hoochie friend Kiki. Charnise was clearly not accustomed to this scene, and was not the least bit interested in the thugs and soldiers that wanted her. So, my coworkers first freaked out when I walked up to the shy girl, whispered something into her ear, and led her by the hand to the dancefloor and proceeded to dance like a damn freak for a half an hour. Little did they know that my pickup line was "You look uncomfortable here. I'm gay as hell, and my coworkers have no idea. I'm not here to try and hook up, I just want to dance."

Charnise gave me her number and told me she'd love to be my negro-hag in ATL. My coworkers thought I was pimp enough to get her digits.

Then there was Taniana. She was a freak from the get go. One of my more ghetto coworkers told me I could get the shy ones, but he didn't think I could get a ho. Hm. After I told her I like "hot dogs", Taniana danced all over me for an hour.

Got her phone number.

Last, and most memorable, was Nikia. Nikia actually approached me. I was shocked, and my coworkers were dumbfounded. Nikia was damn hot, if you're into the female species. She walked up to me and whispered into my ear "There's a few brothers in here that don't like you much because you're dancin' with their women, and a few who think your the shit for it." I responded, "For the first group, its their own damn fault. There's alot of beautiful ladies standing on this dancefloor alone. They oughta step up. For the second group...well...you want to know my secret?" "Of course," she replied. "I'm on a business trip. My coworkers have no idea, but I'm a complete queer. These girls aren't intimidated by me, so we can just dance and have a good time." With this, she grabbed me by the ass and said "Show this to your coworkers."

Well, you can imagine, she proceeded to dance like it was a Ludacris video. She found a way to asked if I had a man in Memphis and how long we've been together. She thought it was great that I dared to come into this "ghetto-ass-mother-fucker-of-a-club". She was hilarious. I got her phone number and will probably call her. She'd make a nice chocolate-honey...

The next day included shopping at Lenox Square, where, by the way, I found the full line of 2xist skivvies and purchased a few pair (god I'm so gay...), about three hours of work, another trip to the open bar at the Embassy, and thumpa thump all night at Insomnia. Insomnia was a little higher class than Dyme, complete with a brass pole in the middle of the dance floor and cages to dance in. For a second I thought about how great of a gay bar it would make...

I was tired and drunk and mostly just sat in a plush chair on the second level till about 3:00am. There was some dancing to the Michael Jackson remix and that time I did the splits while doing flashdance to Candy Shop, but other than that, I pretty much just enjoyed chilling out for the night...