Lineage and libations

Life is funny, like really comical. And by comical I mean it’s the biggest troll ever. Remember that interview that I allegedly crushed? Welp, no dice fam. I got the auto-generated we-don’t-want-you email at midnight on Memorial Day. Apparently they work just about every day save for Christmas Day, New Year’s Day, and Thanksgiving Day. Nothing I wasn’t used to at my previous office job. Needless to say, I was pretty miffed, but it was fine because I wasn’t super keen on working there in the first place. It would have been great as a start to my chip stacking strategy, but it wasn’t a situation where I had bet the farm. Not by a long shot. But let us recall this Memorial Day weekend as it was an interesting one in a multitude of fashions. There’s a few choice moments that aren’t too involved, but they were noteworthy. One of which had me watch Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 for a second time (great movie, go see it).

I don’t think anything of note happened on Friday so I’ll skip straight Saturday. A kickback had been scheduled for the night time and my friend’s gf had plans to meet up with her peoples so it was just a bro day for us. A bro day complete with pizza, video games, and pure laziness. It was glorious. It had been a while since we had a chance to really veg out like that. We’ve both been in the shit so to speak. Fast-forward to the party scenario where I was reminded of the demographics of this lovely land. As I entered through the front door there was a pseudo seance of white people circled about looking at some contraption, later to be identified as some question game. I feel like a Ouija board would have made more sense. So I’m standing there awkwardly as I have no idea who anyone is and frankly don’t care to find out. Eventually I pull up a chair as I got tired of standing. About 5 minutes into this very uncomfortable scenario, two people stroll in. The room was fairly chatty then all of the sudden it got really quiet. Come to find out the male of the pair had  not entered with his girlfriend, but with another woman…gasp.

His girlfriend showed up later and all was absolved (to me at least). It was just funny to feel the energy of the room shift into that hey-that’s-not-his-girlfriend-oh-god-what-happened mode. People are something else. As expected, I tire of sitting in this Ouija circle while listening to the amount of humble brag to my immediate left. I slink away to the kitchen where I found some other recluses such as myself. We bond over our mutual feelings of being outsiders and end up hitting it off. I brought some cider as a party gift, but I ended up drinking 4 out of the 6 bottles as there was only beer for the most part (gross). Speaking of gross, if you ever come across cucumber ginger cider, just throw it in the trash. It tasted like dirty laundry and Sprite. Admittedly, it was fairly strong so after I got pretty tipsy I stopped complaining. But sober I don’t recommend it.

So I’m hanging out in the kitchen with my new friends, one of which I was slightly attracted to, I’ll concede that. Everything that happens between then and the host’s text about kicking us out being displayed on his TV isn’t worth reporting (Apple with the scam). Typical party stuff. But I did have a bit of a moment with ol girl and in my inebriated state I was quite jovial about it. I secure the digits and exit as gracefully as I could with my poor motor skills. Oh, how could I forget the baby foot wine? That was the running joke for the night: drinking wine created from infant labor. Those tiny feet crushing grapes for our consumption. It was the label’s fault for being so ridiculous.

Sunday was spent in downtown Ann Arbor near the U of M campus where I was graciously complemented by a waitress for being “so well put together.” I couldn’t tell if she was flirting with me or if that was a genuine comment. I’m thinking it was the latter as I didn’t see her for the rest of our meal (she wasn’t our server). Eh I’ll take it. I was dressed like I was going on a date I suppose. It was also my mom’s birthday so I ditched my friends while homeboy was getting his haircut and did my son duties. All the while I’m people watching and on the phone. Smirking at random white people turning the corner and avoiding eye contact with me. Classic. Fast-foward to the planned movie outing for Guardians 2, which I had already saw. This outing is only important for two reasons. One being that I needed to talk to someone that knew ol girl from the party because she hadn’t replied to my text and I wanted to confirmed I typed it in right. The second being witness to someone almost catching a case in a movie theatre. We’ll start with the second. So one of the dudes I met from the party the previous night took it upon himself to enact some movie theatre justice on some guy who decided to get on his phone in the middle of the movie.

Admittedly it was distracting, but it wasn’t worth raising a huff about. To this guy, the phone dude was committing the highest of treason. He balls up a napkin and tosses it down at the phone guy. Now keep in mind the attacker is a stringy white dude and the phone dude is a large bald black guy that probably was taller than I thought. As I’m watching the events unfold I say to myself “If that guy gets up and punches this man in the face, I hope he doesn’t expect me to defend him.” Fortunately all that happened was baldy phone man turning around with a death stare for about 45 seconds straight, kept using his phone, then he put it away. Fucking bold-ass white people, I can’t deal. If this scenario happened in certain parts of LA, best believe I would have gotten up and moved seats. That is not a slide scenario and people have been killed for less, let’s be real. Anyway, the movie ends and I ask Captain Theatre Conduct if he can corroborate homegirl’s number to which he says we should exchange numbers and he’ll send it to me later…. Alright then. I figure he wants to confirm she gave it to me and whatnot since they’re homies, fine. Of course I forget to remind him and just hit her up via FB. She probably thinks I’m a thirsty creeper, which isn’t wholly untrue, but I legit just wanted to make sure I had the number right. I did. Good job tipsy me, you dun good.

This week has been fairly uneventful save for my check-ins back home. Particularly my conversation with my grandmother. She’s just as much my mom as my biological mother so our talks go pretty long. In the course of our discussion ranging from my cousins, her disinterest in the NBA finals, upcoming trips to the Dominican Republic, and how she’s praying for me (makes that Kendrick song so potent for me), she mentioned that I’m the head of what could be the last line of my family. Lineage is something I had never thought about because I just assumed I had 500 cousins scattered about the Earth. To hear her mention that in sincerity…even borderline reverence, was sobering in a special kind of way. Also considering that my 4 cousins and I are making big moves (some literally) in the face of some serious setbacks and other bullshit says a lot. And I’m not going to lie, hearing my grandmother say with conviction that she is blessed and proud of her grandchildren really filled me with so much inspiration. Not the cheesy internet bullshit kind, the genuine “wow” type that is germane to extremely successful people across the globe.

Something in me refuses to let me give up on my search, my plans, and schemes for establishing a future for myself. I never knew what that was. I just assumed it was some inherent perseverance that just happened to set up shop in my shell. But in fact, it’s a culmination of seeing the determination, sacrifice, and success of my family members. They’ve all been through some crazy shit, some annoying shit, and some shit that would break most people. To see them push through despite all of that…yeah I have no excuse not to succeed. Not with this level of support and facilitation. I’m glad I decided to call my grandmother though. I know I’m probably the only grandkid that calls her regularly. And that’s not even on some braggadocio shit; I legit am the only one most times. The reasons for that are numerous and some might even be justified, but it’s a responsibility I’ve only come into in the last couple years. As someone who lives in their own head about 90% of the time, it used to be really difficult for me. I have all these goals and all these plans and all these moving parts that I’m trying to set in motion so it’s easy to say “Oh I’ll just call her tomorrow” for 3 months. She won’t always be there, neither will my granddad. Life takes no prisoners nor does it pity the people you want it to.

And to this effect she mentioned that any communication is good communication. Doesn’t always have to be a call. The thought and the effort means a lot more than what I say or don’t say. I thought that was pretty profound.  Anyway, this has spiraled into a host of words and sentences that make little sense at 4:45am. It’s been 2 weeks and I can honestly say that I would be perfectly fine out this way. Well that’s pre-snow. I’m sure my opinion will change once the whiteness comes blowing in. So not looking forward to being a chocolate snowman. I gotta secure me a heater-bae before October. Sigh.