Wednesday, April 9, 2003

iHop Adventure - Numero Tres

Poor Michael played a horrendous game of soccer last night and as a "feel better goodie" we decided to go brave a dinner at iHop. It had been a while, and I couldn't think of anything I would order that would stir up any controversy or cause the waiter to break out in a lecture on ancient chinese history so we went.

We got to sit on the small side of the iHop, by the bathrooms, secluded from the other night-dwelling wierdos that surface after 1am on a Wednesday morning. Michael was worried that we weren't able to get any good people watching in. It all seemed so very uneventful and we talked about school, the coolness of the name Claudia, happiness, sadness, and the missing 5th roll in the basket between us.

It kinda got to that time, where you realize its late and it's time to leave, but you really don't want to move just yet... Yeah, that time when you know that the fun will end and the ugliness of school will return... Then low and behold - the adventure begun.

"XConnieX" was on her way out to grab a quick smokie and she walked by our table and kindly asked how we were "doin". As she headed towards the door, she did a double take and her eyes jumped out of her head as she stared at Michael. In her best Tattoo'd WhiteGirl Ebonics she informed us that she "thought he looked like this guy in jail. Like ya'll tweens or sum'in" Apparently, she also "yoozed ta do Crack, and this guy lived wit her and he was s'posed to sell her sh*t for her, 'stead he smoked it *all* up, and what he did sell - he smoked it all up too, Sheeeaat". Well this went on for a great while - longer than I was comfortable with. I'm not really sure what all she said, and I'm even more sure that Michael had no idea what she was saying either. The whole while I was wondering how this self-proclaimed shelter-offering ebonicalized-crack-addict was serving plates at iHop. The tatoo on her jugular read "Brian's Bitch". Wow. I don't think I could do that. My own personal body adornment doesn't seem so bad now. Needless to say as soon as XConnieX made her way out back we bolted to the front, paid the tab and left quick fast.

Michael's secret to doing so well in school: dealing crack in the wee hours of the AM. (kidding, or am i)

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