Tuesday, May 30, 2006

Mission Marijuana:

Ok so I don’t leave the ATL for another 29 hours, and I need to find some weed.

I hit up my man over at the take-out barn but he’s got no info for me. I can’t sweat him like that so I sail on. I’m a resourceful guy…so I am not worried… well not yet anyway.

I wake up at about 10am… which is because I went to bed straight…which is why I don’t go to be straight…cause that just makes you wake up early and do shit…and who wants to do that?

So I spent the next five hours eavesdropping on the hotel staff and making weed jokes trying to sniff out a weed dealer…cause I know somebody up in this piece is dealin’. No dice…and I don’t look like indigenous populace so…I can’t hate. My last resort is to hit of CH the Chef and find out if she knows what the deal is. She says she might know somebody.

My blackcherry rings moments later. It’s a woman’s voice, but man is it husky. She says she has what I am lookin’ for and that I should be downstairs in 5 min’s.

I hang up the phone and I am a bit terrified. What the fuck have I gotten myself into? Am I going to end up as one of the homies in the back of the car during the well televised police chase?

As I am walking out of the lobby my blackcherry sounds again. I answer it and am told to cross the street and get into the white crown vic. Now you must realize that it’s pretty tough to get a black guy to even stand next to a crown Victoria if he’s even been pulled over…but to get in ….fuck!

I open the door with the tinted windows and the p-funk blaring and I am greeted by a large woman. “C’mon suga and get in the car….we got places to go”… I close the door and we chirp off down the street.

I am blowing down the street (well coasting – this is the south) with a woman I don’t know in a white on white Crown Vic listening to P- Funk “we love you Dr. Funkenstien, your funk is the best” and she rolls a fat one when we are in transit.

I try to make conversation but all she will surrender is that her name is Shelly. I try to do the “when in Rome thing” and tell her that I need to stop and get some cash. She tells me ok and get on the highway.

Next thing I know we are pulling up at this dudes house and I’m like “hey man…I ain’t go no cash”.. so Shelly tells me that I don’t really need to buy any since I am leaving in 20 hours and that I can have some of her. Meanwhile there are these two pit bulls tied up and they are barking like crazy as we park in this guys driveway. As I pull up this dude looks me dead in my eye and says what’s up. Ok so now shit is getting tense, I need to be cool and not do any dumb shit.

So Shelly is still talking to me as she gets out of the car, so I get out and continue the conversation. This makes the pit bulls go nuts and Shelly looks me in the eyes and says “don’t get out of the car”….great, I am now in danger of being shot for buying weed in another state….this is not a wise PR move….or is it?

So I am back in the car…and I am trippin’. Man fuck all this splif shit…I want to roll a blunt…so I need some shit.

And out comes the blackcherry. I text-ed her a whole book about what I needed her to get me….then dude comes down and invites me in.

And now I am blazing in this cats house as they do the deal and watching the UFC on the TV (how do you people watch this shit? I think he just broke this guy’s arm….ouch!)

And now it’s time to eat, they say they have a treat for me.

Next thing I know I am in line at a Mongolian grill place. They give us circular menus and these miniature spatulas. Now realize that I have smoked plenty-o-weed by this point. I’m lucky if I can piss in a straight line…and you want me to write my name…I should have gotten a 2 minute warning.

So this waitress chick is talking and I can’t hear her because the music is really fucking loud in here (yes..I think I am getting old). Anyway so all I hear is “blah…blah…blah…vegetables” and then “blah…blah…blah…protein bowl”. Then she asks does anyone have any questions?

I respond “yes…what the fuck did you just say?” She laughs and tells me I’m funny and she walks off. So Shelly and the Weed Man (hey we couldn’t just leave him, that would be rude) start laughin’ at me, but I am fuckin’ trippin’. I am convinced that I am going to starve to death. I mean how is this fun.. is this what you people do in the south, get high and do math and shit….you need to come to Cali…we’ll show you how to get the most of your high.

But it turns out to be just a big stir fry thing and better still.. it’s all you can eat. So I utterly and completely stuffed my face and then passed out in the car on the way home.

Not a bad night…and I did find some weed after all. So I retired to my room and got faded listening to Madlib and MF Doom….


14 hours later I was back in LA….not a bad trip except for the flying part.

COOPRDOG

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