Me: “Jay, I got bad news for your dog, she’s in the car with the Filipino boxer.”
Jay: “Whaaaat? (laugh) Damn, I was just looking for her.”
Thirty minutes go by and they haven’t returned from the car. Somehow, like eight of us are in the front yard now and everyone is looking at the car.
Someone: “Damn the car ain’t rocking, what the hell are they doing?”
Someone else: “I think that guy is sweet talking her, he doesn’t know she’s a freak. He’s the only one that doesn’t know that Jay took her to the bathroom.”
Someone else #2: “Poor guy is probably in there engaged in deep conversation when he could’ve just hit a homerun on the first pitch.”
Eventually, after about two hours, they come out of the car. I wasn’t there when they came out, but apparently the Filipino Boxer came out smiling in a way that was saying to everyone else “Yeah I’m the one that got her alone!”
So big Earl says “You wasn’t the first one tonight playa!” and starts laughing extremely hard.
Then the Filipino Boxer, in a moment of sheer disgust says, “I hope the first guy didn’t have nothin!”
I hate to break the news to you, but even if the first guy didn’t have anything, you probably got something from her anyways. I mean the chick just got ran through twice in three hours by guys she has known for the same amount of time that it took her to get to the party from San Bernardino. She’s not just any ho, she’s J.Ho.
J.Ho actually emerged from the car in nothing but the Filipino Boxer’s wife beater, which fit her like a short dress. She was carrying her wet clothes in her arms and looking around for her friend “Oksana.”
Oksana is a whole different story, but written by the same author. Around 12:30 a.m. the San Bernardino crew was ready to go home. But the only way they could get home was back on the limo. So they called the limo to take them home.
Unfortunately for them (but not us), Frank had different plans for the limo.
Frank was already pissed about the limo because the reason he rented it in the first place was to pick up two different groups of friends. The first group was the San Bernardino batch (that included my boy Earl as well as J.Ho). The second group was a group of girls that were coming from Westwood. Well, the girls from Westwood took control of their own destiny and took that limo bar hopping. They never even made it to Frank’s house. He had to call the limo driver, tell him “What the fuck are you doing?” and he had the limo driver leave the bar he was at and strand the girls from Westwood, which they definitely deserved.
Basically at this point in the night, Frank was determined to get something out of the limo, so he was going to take everyone out to the club in the limo. I decided not to alert the San Bernardino crew of this.
I had a problem of my own developing, because I was the only person out of about 20 that had shorts on. There was no way any club would let me in with shorts on. So now I have to borrow some jeans from Frank, who wears the skinny-slimmy style, which is not my steez.
I go upstairs to borrow some jeans from Frank and who’s in there with him? Oksana, J.Ho’s best friend. Before I get into any further detail about this bedroom scenario, let me just run through a few conversations that have occurred with Oksana during the night.
Convo #1:
My boy T: “Damn, Sea Lions live the life. All they do is eat, sleep on the beach, and go swimming.”
Oksana: “Plus they don’t ever have to use condoms.”
Convo #2:
Me: “What’s wrong Oksana?”
Oksana: “This party isn’t what I thought it would be.”
Me: “Why not? What did you think it would be?”
Oksana: “I thought everyone would be making out and it would be like a big orgy.”
Convo #3:
(Earl is poking Oksana in the stomach)
Oksana: “Stop, don’t touch my fat!”
Earl: “You’re not fat.”
Oksana: “Yes I am. I wish I had a body like (J.Ho)! She gets to have sex all the time!”
Based on these brilliant conversations that Oksana weighed in on, I wasn’t surprised to find her with Frank in his room. Frank gave me a pair of Evisu jeans that fit me like spandex. He couldn’t stop laughing at me. Next, please! Now he gave me some black cargo pants that were his baggiest pair of pants. Even though I thought he was playing a joke on me, my gut told me he was really trying to help me out. So I went with the cargos. Still slim, but not as bad as the jeans.
After I finished putting the pants on and laughing at myself, Frank was spanking Oksana’s ass. I think this was more her doing than his as she asked me if I was getting jealous and wanted to join. I think she was actually about to rape him but the San Bernardino crew (her friends) was banging on the door because they wanted to leave.
So everyone piles into the limo and the San Bernardino crew thinks they’re going home, but Frank lets them know that they’re not. If they don’t want to go out to the club then they can wait in the limo until we leave. I love Frank.
I’m sitting next to Oksana on one side, and my boy Mike on the other. Oksana is just slaughtered at this point and slouched over in a drunken stupor. I’m sitting directly across from J.Ho and she has the boxer next to her. He is the only sober one in the whole group, I think he’s training for a fight so he can’t drink or something.
J.Ho starts pouring full glasses of Crown. She passed me one and says cheers.
Me: “J.Ho, there’s no way I’m drinking this full glass right now.”
J.Ho: “Just drink it, stop being a baby. I’m a heavyweight!”
J.Ho literally swallows the full glass in three seconds. I really am not a big drinker but there’s no way that I’m getting shown up by J.Ho, who has been skeeted on twice and is wearing nothing but a wife beater and to make it worse, still looks hella good. So I down the whole glass and immediately feel like puking. I hold it in, down a can of Mountain Dew (where did that come from?) and regroup. I’m fine. I’m good. I’m steady.
J.Ho now has received word that we’re going to the club. She is valiantly attempting to put her soaked-wet jeans on so she can go to the club. She says that because it’s dark in the club, no one will know her jeans are wet. Right. What about when they dance with you and you feel like you just crawled out of the toilet?
The limo finally makes it to Sunset Blvd., after a rigorous journey through Coldwater Canyon. Everyone is still in tact and we all want to have some fun. I have a friend who has a bunch of her friends at the Saddle Ranch, which is one of those bars with the mechanical bull rides. Probably J.Ho’s dream come true. So I’m trying to get the limo to go to Saddle Ranch when some lame ass female who looks like Manute Bol’s sister is screaming at me and the limo driver because she wants to go to the Standard. She is saying that Saddle Ranch plays too much country music. Saddle Ranch doesn’t even play country music, it’s just called Saddle Ranch. I can’t deal with this female so I just give in.
We get to the Standard and get in line and they tell us that they’re not letting anyone in (it’s like 1:15 a.m.). Great! Not only that, but the limo took off with the San Bernardino crew, minus J.Ho, who got in line with us.
Frank immediately calls the limo driver, asks him what the fuck he’s doing and tells him to turn around. Now we all pile back in the limo and I’m trying to find out where my friend and her friends are when the limo driver, visibly irritated, starts heading to San Bernardino. This leaves the rest of us facing a two-hour ride to San Bernardino and back, which none of us are looking forward to.
I’m in the front corner of the limo sitting next to a girl that has a striking resemblance to a Hobbit (but with a decent body) and J.Ho and the boxer are on my other side. All of a sudden I see my boy M-Lee jump on the seat like there’s a rat on the floor. I’m thinking to myself, there is no way that there is a rat in this limo! Then my other boy T jumps up on the seat too. This is when I realize that J.Ho was bent over and throwing up on the floor. Nice work, heavyweight.
At this point of the ride, everyone is begging the limo driver to pull over so they can pee, Hobbit is taking millions of pictures of everyone for her myspace page, J.Ho is asleep but amazingly still nodding her head to the music, Manute Bol’s sister is giving Frank a lap dance and we are barely half way. We finally make it to San Bernardino and everyone jumps out of the car to go pee in the house. Everyone is done and we’re about to leave when we realize that the Hobbit is still in the house. So I go in there to get her and she’s in the bathroom consoling J.Ho and helping her hurl in the toilet.
Me: “Hobbit, what the hell are you doing? We gotta go, it’s three a.m. Let her roommates help her.”
Hobbit: “She lives here? Damn! I thought she was coming back with us, that’s why I was trying to help her get it out.”
Dumb ass Hobbits.
By the time I get back in the limo, nearly everyone is asleep except for a few of us. We start smoking a blunt and feel the limo swerve to the side of the road. The limo driver gets out and storms to the back door, opens it and is pissed. The good thing for us was that the Hobbit was the closest person to the door, so naturally the limo driver (Sam) started screaming at her. And she was not very convincing at all.
Sam: “Didn’t I tell you not to smoke?! You don’t listen to me!! You are disrespect!!”
Hobbit: “But I wasn’t smoking. I wasn’t the only one smoking! Why are you yelling at me? This is a limo, we’re supposed to smoke in here! I’m sorry!”
Sam: “You better not smoke anymore!”
Sam goes back to the front of the limo, drives about five feet, slams on the brakes, and comes back. He opens the back door, gets in the limo, storms through the limo and throws a glass out of the window.
“You’re paying for that too!!”
Once Sam goes back to the front of the limo, he throws another glass out of the window. All we can hear is glass hitting concrete. Nice work Sam, we feel real safe with you driving us on our hour-long ride home at 3:30 a.m.
At this point I’m wide awake. Everyone else is knocked out. Sam is pissed. The Hobbit is trying to give an unnamed victim lap dances so Sam turns on the intercom: “No sex in the limo!”
We finally make it home and Sam is screaming at Frank about how horrible we were as passengers, Hobbit lost not only her right shoe, but her camera as well, and somehow I didn’t make it home until 10:30 a.m., although I did manage to cuss Manute Bol's sister out before she left, which thoroughly amused the Hobbit.
The worst part wasn’t sleeping on the floor of Frank’s room with no blanket or cleaning up 3,465 plastic half-filled cups of alcohol, it was that I missed my baseball game and our team got torched 16-5. I’m certain that I will never see J.Ho, Oksana, Suit Boy, or the Hobbit ever again, but they made my Cinco de Mayo pretty damn interesting. A lot more interesting than De La Hoya and Mayweather.
No comments:
Post a Comment