The State of "Eh", Chapter 5

Chapter 5 - Big Crazy

We met at Joe's Pub.
Like I said, I had started dating these damn models, while deciding to not date models.
I'm not being stereotypical here, but these guys...err....not exactly the brilliant, shining lights of intelligence illuminating a room.
They actually made rooms dim. Dimmer. More dim. D to the I to the M. Rrrrrrrah! (old school rap "rrrrrrrah").

Big Crazy was gorgeous. His smile was made out of unicorns and candy. Candy unicorns... with sunshine... and dazzling bedazzelosity.

Women were tossing invisible panties at him while he walked by.

I wasn't actually paying him much attention to notice this, because I was being silly and drunk in another section of the party.
When I walked closer to the stage I saw it. An invisible panty whipped past my head with ferocious speed.
I looked to see where it had been launched.

There he was.

I looked, admired... and kept the rest of my party going.

Whatever, man. I already know what kind of corny trouble I could get into with you. Look away Jean. Look.... away. He wasn't my type. I was more of a "genius thug" girl. At the time. That couldn't be something I could entertain my time with. No way. Later for all that empty beauty.

You can always feel someone staring at you. Searing eyes into your person. My neck felt hot. I turned around and he was right behind me.

"Whoah hoh!" I exclaimed. He was very close. He smelled like photo shoots.

I don't know what the actual exchange was. It wasn't memorable. The part of the conversation that I do remember, was the same part that allowed me to take his number.
His hand was bandaged up.

Ahh.. a model with a noticeable flaw... hmmmm..

I asked about it and he told me he had punched some dude in the face.

Oh.. well.. oh... Jean likey face punching. Jean don't likey YOU, but face punching makes you intriguing, sir.
This makes me a crazy person, I know... but it was the idea that there may be something more to this dude than just superficial "pretty".

He gave me his number... I forgot about it for awhile. I did keep it in my wallet though.

That fateful-less night of the my horrible blackplanet date, I looked to my wallet.

I thought, "Hmm.. well.. it won't be a LONG date... it's already 2am. Besides, I know he's awake, has money and it could be entertaining."

I called him up... right as I was about to hang up, due to his lack of answering, I heard "Hello??" music blaring in the background...

"Hey!" I screamed... it's "Jean.. Jean from Joe---"
I didn't get through the whole sentence before he yelled back "OH JEAN!!! YOU NEVER CALLED ME!!!! WHAT HAPPENED??"

It made me smile. I didn't have to go through the entire awkward "Yeah.. so.. I met you in Joe's Pub.. no no.. JOES.. no.. PUB.. right, right.. yeah.. no.. I'm the girl with the arms?? you know.. the GIRL??"

That always sucks.

We made plans to meet up at Cafeteria in about 15 minutes. I was impressed that he was leaving where he was. It sounded fun. I was hungry.. tired.. and desperately in need of entertainment and flattery.

He was way better looking than I remembered. The conversation was better looking than he was.. innnnnteresting!
Huh, I was wrong... I guess you shouldn't judge a book by it's stupid model cover. Okay. Touché Jean. Too shay.

We left Cafeteria and he drove me home.. a CAR? I'm from Manhattan.. who the fuck owns a CAR??? Never dated a dude with a whole CAR before. Think of the CAR possibilities!!! We could go apple picking!!!!
I have no idea why I thought "apple picking".. It just seemed like the kind of thing that people with CARS drove off to do, last minute, on a whim. Oh GOODY!

That night, Big Crazy rocked my entire world off it's axis. Then back on it's axis, then off.. then.. you get the idea.

I was IN. Flynn and I were in cahoots.

For the next couple of weeks, Big Crazy ( who had not been dubbed "Big Crazy" as of yet..we'll call him "Rome") ... ahem.. ROME and I were tight like new weaves. Tiiiiiight like Rah Digga songs. Motherfucking tight.

Then.. came the red flags.

I'm a huge music fan.. I am VERY picky about artists that I am fans of and what specific songs that fans of the same artist should abhor. It bothers me very, very much when someone who seems to understand music goes insanely awry with their choice of playlist tunes.

We were on the FDR, windows down..... speeding.... beautiful night.. perfect New York.. listening to Jay Z.
All of a sudden, he says, "wait... we gotta listen to this."

I was excited, for him to set the mood.. he clearly understood the vibe.. aww yeah..

aww.. no.

I let it play for about 20 seconds before I turned around and said "You're kidding.. it's not funny... turn it off yo."

He was bopping like a pez dispenser gone wild, driving faster.

'Seriously??? No. Noo. No yo.."

"You don't like 'We Belong To The City'???" he looked at me all incredulous like..

"Nigga.. you LIKE 'We Belong To The City'???" I responded??? with wide eyes, leaning forward in my seat.

The next 40 minutes were an intense debate of his general love for this song. It was his favorite Jay Z song. Cain't nothing top this motherfucking song.. AM I CRAZY??? Clearly this is his greatest song ever.

I don't really care if this sounds crazy to you guys.... clearly it was a sign of things to come. Of thoughts that were founded in insanity.... obviously.

Oh.. also.. he said he was in the army.. and a model.. then came the story of me driving a notable rappers red Benz somewhere uptown.. who was apparently my estranged husband....


I need another chapter for this...


I don't even drive, man..