"Danielle please be careful and call me when you get home. You sure you going to be ok?"
Kadeem one of my oldest friend's who knew me through the beginning of my not so awkward mean girl phase of 9th grade to my now emotionally damaged, good girl gone, glowed up phase of my late 20's. Most girls, thrive in groups and cliques, but me... I'm what they call a lone wolf. I can go to any club by myself and have a great muhfuckin time. For one I never meet a stranger. Second bitch I grew here, I'm not new here. Atlanta is home. We moved a lot growing up. I went to 2 elementary, 3 middle and 2 high schools. So I'm bound to run into at least one person I know, or recently met..
"Yes Kadeem; I'll be fine. I'll call you when I get home!" "Ok, I just worry about you out here by yourself. You be careful. What kind of club is this anyway?" "Peacock, is a reggae club, I'm ready to shake my ass tonight. " "lol.. alright you have fun!" "Ok, Love you... BYEEE "!
Whew, I made it in before 12. We getting in free tonight, we winning!
Nights with Kadeem are typically the pregame to my bullshit. On Fridays, I show up late to our scheduled dinner, and drinks. We catch up , talk shit, bitch about our week, and speak life into each other in hopes that our next week won't be so shitty. Kadeem's an early riser, so its rare for him to be out all night. But me.. I told y'all I was a lone wolf, and bitch wolves thrive in the night time...
Perhaps I had arrived too early.. the dance floor was practically empty. Old heads were at the bar, and stragglers were playing pool, or warming up their hips for endless wining, and girating. I could feel in the air that night I was going to be a muhfukin problem. I looked good rocking my fake locs that everyone thought was real, and I felt good. I had two drinks and a shot at Friday dinner. So I smoked some hookah, and just allowed myself to settle into the vibe... took in the atmosphere. I danced a little, and decided to take a seat in the sectional... I wish I had some weed... I thought to myself as I observed the growing crowd.
Then, in walks this group of young cool dudes. They sat in the section immediately in front of me. They were talking and rolling blunts like they were in a cigarette factory. Most of them got up and left, and then there was just him... Breaking down and rolling away. He must have noticed me staring, because he looked up in mid break down and gave me a knowing smile like, yeah bitch I see you, you want some of this ganja don't you. I just smirked back like whatever. I'm looking but I aint looking. But I was. Then he dried his blunt off with his lighter and proceeded to light , and pull it, walked over to me and offered it. Well I sure manifested that shit quickly.... "Thanks", I replied and took a few baby pulls because, I'm not really about that life. We warmed up slowly to each other, but there was something about him. He just had this air of power mixed with subtle hints of not to be fucked with energy. Seething, but friendly, dominate, and confident. He was well known and respected.
So of course I gave him a hard time. My sassy nigga I Fuck with you but I don't fuck with you was on 10. Oh you about to work for this affection, and attention. He did.
I have a rule when I go to the club. You can look but, don't touch me. I dance with who I want to. Which is usually just one luck guy; who I might be feeling just a little bit. I just want to move my body freely. I love the way my hips and my waist line ride to the bass. I don't want to be constricted to by some horny ass hole, holding my waist too tight , grinding their dicks all on my ass. No thank you. All night he was very attentive, pressed me to dance, offered me drinks, provided copious amounts of marijuana. He made me feel free. He ignited the wild side of me, and encouraged it. It was as if he saw right into the most inner depths of my being and encouraged it. It was as if he was seeing right into the most inner depths of my being. How did he do that shit?
Then my song Came on. The black girl national anthem. Cash money records taking over for the 99 and the 2000s. As I look at the girls next to me asking them if they were about to fuck it up they replied no. So I shrugging my shoulders at there want to be bougie asses and fucked it up by my damn self. After I was done he whispered in my ear “I love how you do your thing regardless. I never met anyone like you. No other girl in this club could entertain me as much as you have tonight. You my girlfriend for the rest of the night.” I just smiled and kept doing my thing and he said what about her she’s cute how about you take her together. I just laughed and finally allowed him to wrap his arms around and embrace me with a dance. His vibe, aura, prauna, was everything. I could have danced with him all night. Then he asked, you ready? So we left.
Kadeem one of my oldest friend's who knew me through the beginning of my not so awkward mean girl phase of 9th grade to my now emotionally damaged, good girl gone, glowed up phase of my late 20's. Most girls, thrive in groups and cliques, but me... I'm what they call a lone wolf. I can go to any club by myself and have a great muhfuckin time. For one I never meet a stranger. Second bitch I grew here, I'm not new here. Atlanta is home. We moved a lot growing up. I went to 2 elementary, 3 middle and 2 high schools. So I'm bound to run into at least one person I know, or recently met..
"Yes Kadeem; I'll be fine. I'll call you when I get home!" "Ok, I just worry about you out here by yourself. You be careful. What kind of club is this anyway?" "Peacock, is a reggae club, I'm ready to shake my ass tonight. " "lol.. alright you have fun!" "Ok, Love you... BYEEE "!
Whew, I made it in before 12. We getting in free tonight, we winning!
Nights with Kadeem are typically the pregame to my bullshit. On Fridays, I show up late to our scheduled dinner, and drinks. We catch up , talk shit, bitch about our week, and speak life into each other in hopes that our next week won't be so shitty. Kadeem's an early riser, so its rare for him to be out all night. But me.. I told y'all I was a lone wolf, and bitch wolves thrive in the night time...
Perhaps I had arrived too early.. the dance floor was practically empty. Old heads were at the bar, and stragglers were playing pool, or warming up their hips for endless wining, and girating. I could feel in the air that night I was going to be a muhfukin problem. I looked good rocking my fake locs that everyone thought was real, and I felt good. I had two drinks and a shot at Friday dinner. So I smoked some hookah, and just allowed myself to settle into the vibe... took in the atmosphere. I danced a little, and decided to take a seat in the sectional... I wish I had some weed... I thought to myself as I observed the growing crowd.
Then, in walks this group of young cool dudes. They sat in the section immediately in front of me. They were talking and rolling blunts like they were in a cigarette factory. Most of them got up and left, and then there was just him... Breaking down and rolling away. He must have noticed me staring, because he looked up in mid break down and gave me a knowing smile like, yeah bitch I see you, you want some of this ganja don't you. I just smirked back like whatever. I'm looking but I aint looking. But I was. Then he dried his blunt off with his lighter and proceeded to light , and pull it, walked over to me and offered it. Well I sure manifested that shit quickly.... "Thanks", I replied and took a few baby pulls because, I'm not really about that life. We warmed up slowly to each other, but there was something about him. He just had this air of power mixed with subtle hints of not to be fucked with energy. Seething, but friendly, dominate, and confident. He was well known and respected.
So of course I gave him a hard time. My sassy nigga I Fuck with you but I don't fuck with you was on 10. Oh you about to work for this affection, and attention. He did.
I have a rule when I go to the club. You can look but, don't touch me. I dance with who I want to. Which is usually just one luck guy; who I might be feeling just a little bit. I just want to move my body freely. I love the way my hips and my waist line ride to the bass. I don't want to be constricted to by some horny ass hole, holding my waist too tight , grinding their dicks all on my ass. No thank you. All night he was very attentive, pressed me to dance, offered me drinks, provided copious amounts of marijuana. He made me feel free. He ignited the wild side of me, and encouraged it. It was as if he saw right into the most inner depths of my being and encouraged it. It was as if he was seeing right into the most inner depths of my being. How did he do that shit?
Then my song Came on. The black girl national anthem. Cash money records taking over for the 99 and the 2000s. As I look at the girls next to me asking them if they were about to fuck it up they replied no. So I shrugging my shoulders at there want to be bougie asses and fucked it up by my damn self. After I was done he whispered in my ear “I love how you do your thing regardless. I never met anyone like you. No other girl in this club could entertain me as much as you have tonight. You my girlfriend for the rest of the night.” I just smiled and kept doing my thing and he said what about her she’s cute how about you take her together. I just laughed and finally allowed him to wrap his arms around and embrace me with a dance. His vibe, aura, prauna, was everything. I could have danced with him all night. Then he asked, you ready? So we left.
He was careful that I made it down the stairs. We walked to the corner store next door. He bought me a black n Mild because I thought I was in college again. I thought I wanted it but I didn't. We walked up the street and talked. As we enjoyed the late winter cool of early March, I learned that he was from Gambia. I finally told him my background. Everything was going just right. We finally stopped at another club, and decided to continue the party. However we didn't make it in. Even though he had a wallet full of blue faces he refused to pay because he said the owner was his friend. On our way back down to the peacock, a homeless/crackhead who was also a poet wanted to recite a poem for me. He gave very specific instructions to the homeless guy, as to which poem he was not to recite to me. Which prompted me to believe he did this often. After the poem, we continued our journey where he asked if I wanted to go to his car. I replied "whats in your car? I don't know there might be a sex trafficking van there waiting for me." He laughed and replied "ok, so what you want to do?" "Its getting late, why don't we just chill at mangoes and wait for my lyft?" So I walk into Mangoes and sit down. Then I look around and I wait and wait for... wait whats his name?! He's know where to be found. After about 20 minutes of waiting, I finally call my lyft home. I was shocked, hurt, utterly pissed that he just vanished, disappeared. He was gone, no name, no exchange of numbers. The entire Lyft ride home I played our night over and over again in my mind. I had so many questions! Did I hear him incorrectly? What did I miss? Did he get kidnapped? Was he really a sex trafficker?Like where did he go? Why the fuck did he take up all my time if he wasn't interested? IDK IDK IDK IDK IDK I D K!!!!!When I finally made it home, I thanked God for protecting me. Who knows what his disappearing act saved me from.
But unfortunately this wasn't the end....
But unfortunately this wasn't the end....
