PART 1 of 12
The highway ahead was blurry…I was seeing double vision and the yellow lane markings on the road were hopping all over the place. I was almost sure the car wasn’t swerving….but I can’t say for
sure. I can’t say I cared - if a highway patrol car got behind me right now…I’d go to jail tonight for evading the cops if they caught me. I was pissy drunk - and searching for more
intoxication as I chugged big gulps of Seagram’s Gin right out the pint-sized bottle, screwing my face up as it burned my throat and chest going down.
I was going 93 mph now.
Flying east down Highway 50…in an emotional rage, I had to get back to the Burg as quickly as possible.
I was angry, as angry as I had been in a looooong time. Upset. Furious.
The road was empty at the moment….no traffic in front of me. Normally I would be blasting old school rap from my car stereo…but for the 1st time ever - I rode in silence. The wind was gushing hard through the moonroof of my Honda Accord….but it did little to help my sweating. My temperature was boiling.
Still, I knew I was making good timing. It had taken me less than 10 minutes to get from the city to Lee’s Summit, and I was pushing Annie Mae to the max. I needed to get there before I was too late….though I wasn’t really sure how much time I had honestly.
The phone call that prompted my impromptu return trip home that night was still replaying in my head. Even in my drunken state, I could still remember every word, how careful I was with my questions and assessment of the situation.
My foot pressed hard against the gas pedal…and Annie Mae sounded off as she sped up.
I cannot WAIT til I get to the fuckin’ Burg!!!!!
I don’t know what the fuck I’ma do once I get there….I aint even thought about it. I ain’t thought about shit since I got in the car…not shit else but that phone call.
CALLER: “Look I aint got no reason to lie about this shit, I’m just telling you what I heard them saying.”
ME: “So it was just y’all in the weight room?”
CALLER: “Yeah, like I said…it was me, Skates, and TJ. Skates was on the bench and TJ was spotting him..”
ME: “I’m saying…maaaan….what did this dude TJ SAY?”
CALLER: “He was telling Skates about how fat Kelly’s ass is, and talking ‘bout some ‘Nigga I was all in dat shit from the back, she was taking it like a pro…”
ME: “Man how you know he was talmbout ‘my’ Kelly?”
CALLER: “Nigga how many thick chicks named Kelly wit a fat ass go here?!?! Come on now. You know how niggas talk when they get the pussy…that’s what he was on. They probably didn’t know I could hear them, I had my earphones in but they was off. I heard the whole conversation…”
ME: “Man, look you bet not be lying about this shit dude. So he said what else?”
CALLER: “I mean they was just talking about her friends on the Dance Squad, saying something about the night they was all playing cards at TJ's apartment - cause Skates asked about Danni. That’s how else I knew they was talking about ‘your’ Kelly - when he said something about Danni!”
ME: “Man I didn’t know that was dude’s nickname….that’s the only reason I’m kinda believing you. I thought his name was Marcel.”
CALLER: “That IS his name…..Marcel is his government name. But all the players on the team and coaches call him TJ. Don’t ask me where it came from, that’s just what we all call him.”
ME: “That shit don’t even make no sense. But it make perfect sense when I think about what happened this morning…”
CALLER: “What happened this morning?”
ME: “Naw, fuck that - so what else he say? When he was talking about hitting it from the back...”
CALLER: “Yeah you don’t like that shit, huh?”
ME: “Don’t play with me yo…”
CALLER: (chuckling) “Ok, ok, ok. He was just talking ‘bout how she got on top, how he was squeezing her ass and just looking at that mf….I’m guessing she was riding him from the back? That’s what it sounded like…”
ME: “This muthafuckin bitch……I should drive back down there…”
CALLER: “Yo - didn’t you say you was drinking?”
ME: “I sure the fuck am…I’m bout to drive my ass back down there right now.”
CALLER: “No you not…what are you gonna do? It’s late…you’re drunk Rodn….”
ME: “Man I know how to drive! Fuck dat! This bitch got me fucked up….I’m bout to go, I’ll holla at you later - right on.”
I dropped my phone to the floor when I said that, and wasn’t sure if they were still talking. Sprinting across the room to grab my jacket, I nearly tripped on the long ass phone cord in the middle of the living room floor. I needed to be quiet, so no one would wake up and try to stop me from leaving. My aunt and cousins were all sleeping, and I had been in the living room…sipping my drink and watching old episodes of Martin when I got the call.
It was late, after midnight. Early December, on a Saturday…I’m almost sure it was the 1st week of December. It was chilly outside - but not too cold. Earlier it had rained a light sprinkle but it wasn’t cold enough for anything to stick and for the most part, the roads were clear. If there wasn’t any traffic...I could probably get to the Burg in half the hour’s time it usually took. But I need to leave NOW….so I can catch this punk bitch….
She got me fucked up......