Take advice from fuckups.they're the only ones that can tell you about the bottom & how to avoid it


Thursday, May 6, 2010

East Side Days

The year that I turned 21 I had a period of about three months where I frequented clubs and bars that I had absolutely no business being in with a group of wild ass black girls. The one I wonder about the most nowadays is Kel.
She was the epitome of what some would call "ghetto". She'd call me up and be like "You wanna go to the club, pick me up. I'm payin." On more than one occasion I'd go to get her only to find out that her kids had to ride all the way to the city with us. None of them had car seats, and they were bad as hell. They were always hilarious to say the least. There was the toddler, whom they called "Sparkle", but I still have to figure out what the little girl's name really was. She would always just kind of take in the chaos around her as if it were entertainment. She would always just look about the car, the room, whatever, with her eyes wide open, observing and smiling. There was the oldest one, Keisha, who was about 8 or 9...smart as a fuckin whip, this kid was. I'd always catch her saying smart-assed witty comments under her breath while her mother or other adults would be talking. For those of you who don't know, women like Kel don't play when it comes to getting on their kids. Every once in a while Keisha would be trying to play off like she didn't say anything after sassing an adult, to which Kel would turn to me whoever Keisha was spoutin' off to and tell them, "You can smack the shit outta her if you want." ...THEN...there was Kedrion.
This child was BAD. So bad that you would have to hide from him so that you wouldn't crack up every time he fucked up. One day I was at a cookout in the Sparta projects, smoking a blunt, when all of the people I was hanging out with noticed Kedrion on a bike in his underoos riding past. One of the dudes there told him to get his ass home. Then my friend LaShondra proceded to ask him where he got his bike to which he replied that he stole it, and then shouted, "Let me hit that blunt!"
LaShondra started to walk toward the street to whoop his ass since he was being an asshole and was clear across town on his bike unsupervised, but Kedrion kept zipping past her on the bike, taunting her with obscenities. "Get away from me, ya ole chickenhead-assed ho!" Was one of the lines he spat at her. Oh, and how could I forget, "Nigger, nigger nigger!"-sung to the tune of nanny nanny boo-boo. That was one of his favorites. I couldn't help but crack up when that kid would do that. The grown ups would always kind of nudge me and tell me, "That ain't funny" or "don't laugh at him, he won't stop." I didn't want him to. He was a riot.
Sometimes when this kid was at home he would go into the bathroom and put his underwear on backwards, and wear the narrow part of them up his butt, then run out and just go fucking wild all over the apartment. Jumping on the furniture, leaping into shit. When Kel would find him like that she would always say "Shelly look how he wearin his draws, he gay", or "ignore him, he bein a faggot like his daddy." Kel would let him drink off of her beers and shit. It was crazy.
On these crazy ventures to East St. Louis with the kids and whoever else ended up tagging along, packed into my Dodge Neon on a donut, Kel would chug E&J and smoke joints as she pleased, and usually ask me to let her drive. I usually would once we were in the city and the kids were dropped off because I didn't know my way around like she did. I'd usually find out sometime along the way that we didn't have any money and that Kel was gonna have to go to three or four different hoods to "hustle up some money outta (her) cousin", and she didn't mean cousin in slang, this girl was really related to people all over East Saint. Somebody would always come through and she could usually make enough for us to get back and forth. We would go to some places I just know I had no business being in. One of them had supposedly had a corpse found behind it sometime while we were frequenting the place. It was alright, though. One of the bartenders there was a gay white guy that talked like a straight black guy. I had to be careful when I danced there because there was this tall, big-armed light skinned girl that would always try to whoop my ass for "dancing with her man", even if I wasn't dancing with him. He would always defend me and curse her out when she did it, though.
One place called The Four Aces in Centerville was nuts. The place was basically a HUGE pole barn. There was, for some reason, two lounge rooms in the front of the place, they would have REAL djs, and it was the fucking wild west in this motherfucker. People smoking blunts in groups everywhere. Everyone was friendly...BUT THE GANGBANGERS. One night a giant brawl broke out between two cliques. As soon as it popped off, the dj pulled the needle off the record and told everyone to get the fuck out. The place turned into total pandemonium. Chairs breaking, glass flying, clouds of fists and dust in the distance, and a crowd pushing to get out. I was trying to get into the flow of people with my friends, when the bartender pulled me up over the bar to get me some safety. We eventually made it out and as we all got into the car the canyon sized pothole covered parking lot was a sea of flashing cop lights.
Another place, called Eddie's Nights, in ESTL, was an alright joint, too. It was way laid back, and I loved it on "grown folks night" when they would play a lot of obscure r&b from the eighties and people over (I think) 35 got in for free. For some reason, people in there always thought I was a prostitute. One night I partied with a pimp. He didn't ask me to do anything but get our drinks.
-Like I said, my ass had no business being in any of these places.


  1. I love reading the adventures of Shelly, it always makes me smile lol!

  2. This was an interesting post. I enjoyed hearing your tales.

    What an interesting life you've lead.

  3. Glad you are posting again. I enjoy the daily dose of cynicism.