No, I didn’t say that. But that is what I meant by each and every laugh issued last night.
After days of texting, Baby Ciroc and I decided we should go out for drinks last night. He asked where I wanted to go and while I really wish that guys would just pick a place and give me a time, I realized that with him-that might land me in a bar with a bunch of barely legal fist pumpers, so I decided on a sports bar. My rationale: it’s a place I frequent enough and there are two games on…so if I get bored, I’ll just watch the game. Fair? I think so.
While I’m parking in my spot, Baby Ciroc drives by me. I saw him, but he didn’t see me. I also saw all four (which I was later informed is actually six) TV screens illuminated and all I could do really was sigh and remember that this would at least give me something to blog about.
Since he was still looking for parking, I went in and grabbed a seat. Now, I kind of forgot what he looks like, so when this one brotha with some tight slacks and a tan, zipped up to the neck members only jacket walked in and looked around in search of his party…I got a little nervous. Thankfully he made his way to another table.
I get a text “I’m at the entrance” so instead of getting up and going to get him…I text him to walk straight in. Sidebar: he’s shorter than I remember. Ok, so as he is walking over…I’m greeted by his cologne which smells like Lysol. Really. Those of you that know me, know that my sense of smell is my curse and so that was like the only thing I could focus on for the most part. As he sits down I ask him to say his name, ‘cause I have no idea how to pronounce it- at all. He says his name is “peter”. Gary Coleman face, “boy whatchu talkin’ bout?”see what I did there . That’s not your name. He pronounces it, but I honestly forgot it between the Lysol smell and the rest of the conversation.
The waiter comes to take our drink order and he orders a “pineapple juice and apple”. The waiter and I are BOTH confused…but we BOTH ignore it and roll with it. I mean that is what the man ordered, right? Until the waiter comes back and is like…ughh u want pineapple juice and apple pucker? No apparently ole boy meant apple vodka but they ain’t got that, so the waiter suggests a standard goose and cranberry. “Naw I don’t mess with goose no more.” Apparently (last week) when Baby Ciroc turned 22, they had a table at the club and someone bought him a bottle of Grey Goose which he poured OJ into and walked around the club with-finishing the bottle in its entirety. I’ll admit, I’ve been off the club scene for a while. So, I asked him “what club they do that at?” . I mean…who walks around the club turnin’ up a bottle. He said Ibiza. It all made sense. So at this point I’m like ok...you get a table when you go out and you have 4 TV’s in your car. You fancy huh? He corrects me- its SIX tvs, 14 speakers, and he’s been looking at rims lately. Then he will be done with the truck. His goal is to make a whip that little kids point to and say “bingo that’s my car”. His words, not mine. So I was like, ok so you blow money fast I see. But you’re young so whatevs, I guess. He then tells me that he is obsessed with cars. Then a commercial comes on with car noises and his attention shifts to the TV (this actually happened every time a car or movie commercial came on). Apparently loud noises and lights captivate him.
The conversation continues and suddenly his phone lights up and I hear a “chirp”. I tried to ignore it as he answered it then I realized that he was “chirping” like…NEXTEL CHIRPING in 2010. At this point I’m literally laughing out loud. I asked him , are you chirping people RIGHT NOW? His answer, “me and all my friends downloaded this app so we don’t have to call each other”. Sigh. Littleeyebigsee. We keep talking and then he’s holding his phone like a game boy…and I hear a little jingle playing. “Oh I’m playing angry birds.” o_O
Let me pause and recap here. You smell of Lysol, buy bottles and TVs, are distracted by commercials, “chirp” your friends, and you are playing angry birds right now? ARE YOU 12?yes .
The convo was blah. He insisted on letting me know how he’d been in the streets since he was 12 and how grown he was. I then told him that he was younger than my little sister sooo….I’m not convinced. He asked “so what are we doing”. My response, “you’re gonna pay this tab and we are gonna be out”.
We walk out in the same direction- he starts his car from fifteen blocks away (don’t you have to be in a certain radius to do that?) and we part ways. I now smell of Lysol…but at least iLaughed.
After days of texting, Baby Ciroc and I decided we should go out for drinks last night. He asked where I wanted to go and while I really wish that guys would just pick a place and give me a time, I realized that with him-that might land me in a bar with a bunch of barely legal fist pumpers, so I decided on a sports bar. My rationale: it’s a place I frequent enough and there are two games on…so if I get bored, I’ll just watch the game. Fair? I think so.
While I’m parking in my spot, Baby Ciroc drives by me. I saw him, but he didn’t see me. I also saw all four (which I was later informed is actually six) TV screens illuminated and all I could do really was sigh and remember that this would at least give me something to blog about.
Since he was still looking for parking, I went in and grabbed a seat. Now, I kind of forgot what he looks like, so when this one brotha with some tight slacks and a tan, zipped up to the neck members only jacket walked in and looked around in search of his party…I got a little nervous. Thankfully he made his way to another table.
I get a text “I’m at the entrance” so instead of getting up and going to get him…I text him to walk straight in. Sidebar: he’s shorter than I remember. Ok, so as he is walking over…I’m greeted by his cologne which smells like Lysol. Really. Those of you that know me, know that my sense of smell is my curse and so that was like the only thing I could focus on for the most part. As he sits down I ask him to say his name, ‘cause I have no idea how to pronounce it- at all. He says his name is “peter”. Gary Coleman face, “boy whatchu talkin’ bout?”
The waiter comes to take our drink order and he orders a “pineapple juice and apple”. The waiter and I are BOTH confused…but we BOTH ignore it and roll with it. I mean that is what the man ordered, right? Until the waiter comes back and is like…ughh u want pineapple juice and apple pucker? No apparently ole boy meant apple vodka but they ain’t got that, so the waiter suggests a standard goose and cranberry. “Naw I don’t mess with goose no more.” Apparently (last week) when Baby Ciroc turned 22, they had a table at the club and someone bought him a bottle of Grey Goose which he poured OJ into and walked around the club with-finishing the bottle in its entirety. I’ll admit, I’ve been off the club scene for a while. So, I asked him “what club they do that at?” . I mean…who walks around the club turnin’ up a bottle. He said Ibiza. It all made sense. So at this point I’m like ok...you get a table when you go out and you have 4 TV’s in your car. You fancy huh? He corrects me- its SIX tvs, 14 speakers, and he’s been looking at rims lately. Then he will be done with the truck. His goal is to make a whip that little kids point to and say “bingo that’s my car”. His words, not mine. So I was like, ok so you blow money fast I see. But you’re young so whatevs, I guess. He then tells me that he is obsessed with cars. Then a commercial comes on with car noises and his attention shifts to the TV (this actually happened every time a car or movie commercial came on). Apparently loud noises and lights captivate him.
The conversation continues and suddenly his phone lights up and I hear a “chirp”. I tried to ignore it as he answered it then I realized that he was “chirping” like…NEXTEL CHIRPING in 2010. At this point I’m literally laughing out loud. I asked him , are you chirping people RIGHT NOW? His answer, “me and all my friends downloaded this app so we don’t have to call each other”. Sigh. Littleeyebigsee. We keep talking and then he’s holding his phone like a game boy…and I hear a little jingle playing. “Oh I’m playing angry birds.” o_O
Let me pause and recap here. You smell of Lysol, buy bottles and TVs, are distracted by commercials, “chirp” your friends, and you are playing angry birds right now? ARE YOU 12?
The convo was blah. He insisted on letting me know how he’d been in the streets since he was 12 and how grown he was. I then told him that he was younger than my little sister sooo….I’m not convinced. He asked “so what are we doing”. My response, “you’re gonna pay this tab and we are gonna be out”.
We walk out in the same direction- he starts his car from fifteen blocks away (don’t you have to be in a certain radius to do that?) and we part ways. I now smell of Lysol…but at least iLaughed.
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