No Two People Experience the Same Reality

Retarded

2007-07-27T20:35:35Z

Some things are not meant to be said. And last night, I said them all!!! I left work around 6:30 yesterday. I was planning to go to Spain’s in Newark, but that fell through. I took my ass home, cooked some Chili, and decided to go have a drink.

I get to the Pit, and I’m chillin’ with my PIMP cup. I was drinking a “retarded”, which is 151,cranberry and orange juice. I found out why they call it that.

I was standing outside when Tray walked by. I said hi to him, asked him how he was doing. So he walks in the bar, and sits 2 seats away from me. He sees my cup and says PIMP stands for Put In Mouth Promptly. I wasn’t mad at him for saying that, because he’s a clown and him and I never went there. So he’s joking with me the whole night, and we are laughing with some other guys in the bar. He’s talking a little slick to me, but we were having a good time. I bought him a drink. Everything was cool. Wreck walks in, and Tray stops joking with me, which I don’t like but that’s him.(He adjusts his attitude depending on who is in the bar and that’s corny). I’m with my baby, Tray’s playing pool, and I’m getting less and less sober. Tray said something crazy to me, so I say to him, “at least my bitch doesn’t look like she just got out of prison with all those damn tattoos!”

Everybody just started laughing. Well, not everyone. Tat’s best friend (Tray’s cousin) was in the bar. She wasn’t too happy. Tray’s face just went from amused to pissed as hell. I apologized to him about thirty times, but he wasn’t trying to hear me. Then my girl Lala takes me outside and usually she would curse me out and be like “you’re so fuckin’ stupid, why’d you say that?” However, she was cool this time. All she told me was that I gotta watch what I say, even when I’m drinking. She’s much more observant than me, I guess she noticed Tray’s cousin talkin’ shit about me to her baby’s daddy. Now, if I was in Boonton, and said something like that about a chick, there wouldn’t be a problem. She might say something back, get a little attitude but it wouldn’t be a big deal. From what I hear though, Tat is crazy as hell. I don’t know if Tray’s cousin is gonna try to start some shit from this, so just in case, I’m going to pick up my slammer tonight.

After 7 minutes of drama, I left the bar with my baby Wreck. He belongs to me. He might belong to some other chicks too, but I’m claiming him. Wreck, I’m completely wrapped up in this nigga. I could fall in love with him tomorrow if I allowed myself to.

Never Again

2007-07-23T21:51:31Z

Newark Police Department?? They’re ignorant as hell. Well, let me not say that. Maybe just this one cop is a f*cking idiot but here’s the story. We are chillin’ at the Pit (of course). There were only ten people in the place, nine girls, one guy. I’m playing pool with the bartender. All of a sudden, we see a car in the middle of the street smoking. So we go outside, thinking his car has broken down. He’s racing down the block, and he pulls up fast as hell right in front of the Pit. The cop turns down the block and drives right past him. I think the Newark Cops smoke more weed than the niggas on the block. No lie. How do you drive right past the culprit? WTF?????????

Back to me and Tray. So, somehow my girl Lala finds out about what went down with us, and tells me that this nigga Ness (another guy form the hood) showed her the video he took with his camera phone.

Wait, before I continue with this story we, well you, need some background info on Ness. Ness is phony as hell. He seemed really cool when we first met. He’s married, but he tried to get with me and he got shot down. Everyone on the block knows he gossips and starts trouble like a bitch does. Ok, I’ll continue.

Ness told Lala that Tray planned to get me drunk, take me to a hotel room and run a train on me with some of his friends. By this point, I am disgusted. She also told me that Ness said he met some guy from Boonton that told him I was easy. And anyone who knows me knows that I have lived in Boonton for years, and my neighbors don’t even know me. I don’t chill there. I have never dated, talked to, or fucked anyone that lives anywhere near Boonton. She told me to be cool about it and not say anything. I guess she knew by my face that I planned to curse Tray’s punk ass out and maybe Ness’ ass too.

I had to say something. So I told Tray what I heard and he denied saying anything about running the train on me, and he told me that he had no clue how Ness got that shit on camera. For some strange reason, I believed him. I really couldn’t be too mad at him because I should not have gotten so drunk.

Tray and I continued to talk, and we would still text each other, and talk on the phone, although, we were no longer intimate with each other. He kissed me once or twice, but I was reluctant to fuck him. I started noticing different girls coming in the bar sitting with Tray. I would always ask him if he had a girlfriend, and his response would always be, “I ain’t got no girl, there you go with that bullshit.”

A couple weeks before Tray and I actually took our flirtation to the next level, I was partying in the Hollywood with my girl Star. (Wreck, the other guy I had a crush on, is her brother). Star and I are just dancing, having a good time, and we see this chick. Now the girl wasn’t ugly. She was pretty, but just looked so street. She has more tattoos than that guy from Blink182. The drummer, what the hell is his name? Travis Barker. Yes, the girl had more tattoos than Travis Barker. They were everywhere. Star told me Tray used to fuck with her, and to be easy because the bitch was crazy. So I asked him again, if he was dealing with the girl, we will call her Tat. He said he talked to her a while ago, and she was stuck on him, but he wasn’t dealing with her anymore. In the same breath he told me that I need to watch myself in the Hollywood. He said I stand out in a crowd because I’m pretty and light-skinned, and that makes people jealous. He told me that many of the girls in there were bloods, and they like to cut people’s faces, with razors.

In my head I’m thinking Tray has lost his damn mind. Instead of telling me that he is dealing with Tat, he makes it seem like bitches just wanna fight me because I’m pretty. Are women really that insecure? They probably are, but Tat had seen me talking to Tray in the Hollywood, and she had a problem with me because Tray was still fucking her.

Ok, so after Tray and I took our flirtation to the next level, and we had gotten over this bullshit with Ness, I thought everything was cool. We were back to being friends. I had even texted him and told him that he was too cute to be such an asshole. (I put the little smiley face at the end so he would know I was half joking.) I’m in my spot one night with Lala and Star. Guess who walks in? Tat, along with Tray’s cousin. Now, Star grew up in this neighborhood. She knows every single face that walks in the bar, and when she saw Tat, she nudged me and said, “Something’s up. That chick never comes in here.” Tray is sitting at the other end of the bar with Tat, and I see him looking at me out the corner of his eye. Tat is just staring at me like she’s a damn lesbian or some shit. But I just pop my collar and continue enjoying my night.

I got home around 3:30 in the morning. My cell starts ringing and its Tray. Conversation went like this:

“Hello?”

“Yo, you not fucking with Tray no more?” (He likes referring to himself in the third person).

“What you mean? We’re cool Tray, I got no problem with you.”

“ No, I mean are we still gonna kick it like we did before? You know?”

“Hold on, someone is calling my phone on the other line, a blocked number, I wonder who the hell it is?” I said.

“It’s probably some nigga...”

“ No, its not, and if it is, it doesn’t matter, you had chicks all up in the bar tonight.”

“See, here we go with the bullshit again. That was my cousin and her friends.”

“Whatever. We can still kick it, but I don’t know about all that extra shit. I like you but I don’t come down to the hood for this drama, you know. I just wanna chill and have fun.”

“Aight, well, me too. Look, I’m going to bed, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Later, Tray.”

I hung up the phone and noticed I had a voicemail. I’m sitting on my couch wondering who the fuck is calling me this late. No one calls me from blocked numbers because my friends know I won’t answer. So, I check my voicemail.

“You know who this is bitch. And if you leave my man another message, your light-skinned ass will not be walkin’. Goodnight.” (I thought we got over the light-skinned/dark-skinned beef in the 90’s but I guess with some chicks it’s still an issue).

Right away I knew whose ignorant ass it was calling my phone. And what pissed me off is the fact that she didn’t even wait to talk to me to find out what was going on, instead she wants to get mad at the wrong person. So, by this time I’m pissed off. Pissed off at Tat for reacting like a typical girl, and pissed off at Tray for letting the bitch get my number. I did the only thing that a Colombian and Black girl with a nasty temper would do, I called his ass. He didn’t answer.

“Tray, it’s me. I just got off the phone with you, and the person I told you was calling me from a blocked number was Tat. I don’t know what the fuck is going on but I suggest you tell that bitch what’s really going on before I do...” My line beeps as I’m leaving the message, it’s Tray.

“Yo.”

“Yeah?” a girl’s voice says.

“Tat. Listen, I don’t know what you are calling my phone for, but Tray told me he didn’t have a chick. And I’ve asked him several times.”

“Well, the bitches you be hangin’ with know I fuck with him.”

Tray is in the background, mumbling and cursing and shit, like a little boy.

“They told me the same thing he said. That he fucks you. That’s it.”

She threw the phone down, and I guess she left the house, and I hear Tray and his cousin talking. The cousin picks up the phone, and we talked for a minute but by that time I was too pissed off to pay attention.

The next day, Tray texts me, and he apologizes. We see each other at the bar, and we’ve discussed the situation but I can never trust him again. He’s tried to hook up with me a couple of times and he told me we could start over but I’m not with it. I don’t respect him or what he did. I was fortunate I only fucked him once, cause if I would’ve invested anymore than that, I might’ve had to chip his ass. Whenever I hear his voice, and he smiles at me, I get that same feeling I had the first night he spoke to me. I day dream sometimes, and I wonder what it would be like to just be with him one last time. But I never make the same mistake twice, well at least not anymore. Besides, I’m withWreck now. Another story for another day.

The Incident

2007-07-23T01:55:36Z

Not that I give a rat’s ass what he thinks, but my Dad would kill me if he knew I was here. Then again, I’m 24. Grown. I can do what I wanna do. And if that means hanging out in one of the worst neighborhoods in Newark, then so be it. Like I said, I’m grown.

South Orange Ave and 19^th street. The Pit. That’s my spot. Five nights a week I’m there, sippin’ Hennessy or 151 with Cranberry Juice. I see how the girls look at me. Most of them are cordial. Others look at me like, “why is this bitch from Boonton, chillin’ our hood?” I just ignore them. It’s easy for me to pretend the haters don’t exist. I’m good here, comfortable. This is my spot.

It’s like a magnetic force pulls me here. I can’t stay away. Even after the scandal was uncovered, I still showed up the bar, smiling and drinking as though nothing had happened. What scandal? Shit....I have to tell you about this one.

I met Tray towards the end of February. He was shooting pool, with such intensity. He didn’t even notice me in the room. And believe me, when I walk in the room, everyone notices. I was attracted to him, at first, because he didn’t approach me. Although every other guy in the bar did. Tray would just look at me, say hi, then go back to drinking his Remy, and playing pool.

One evening, after a formal birthday party in Union, my girl Lala and I went to The Pit. I was looking fly, of course. I had on a skintight, black formal gown, with diamond encrusted spaghetti straps that fell just below my knees. My shoes were strappy, 4-inch heels that made my legs seem as long as a supermodel’s. That night, Tray noticed me. He bought me a drink, I bought him a drink, we talked, laughed, and had a good time. He doesn’t smile too much, but he smiled that night, and to this day, I’ve never seen anything so sexy. Before the night was over, he asked me for number, and of course I gave it to him.

During the next few weeks we talked on the phone, flirted in the bar, kissed a couple of times. I really liked Tray. I also had a little crush on one of Tray’s friends, Wreck, but Tray infiltrated my mind. His voice, his smile, his eyes. Everything about him was serious and intense, but he had these moments when he could be playful and funny. He’s from the streets, but he’s not a thug. He was an in-between type nigga which made him even more appealing to me.

My friends didn’t understand the attraction. First of all Tray is not my type. His skin is the color of spice cake. I prefer dark-skinned men, I mean if someone is cute then they’re cute, but chocolate men turn me on. Another thing is that Tray is only 5’6. I am 5’7, without heels. I rarely walk out of my house without heels on, so usually I am 5’10. Second of all, my friends have been going to the Pit a lot longer than I have. They’ve heard Tray talk about women in a very disrespectful manner. But I liked him, and once I like someone, rational thought goes out the window.

One night, after work, my girl Lala and I head to the Pit. We’re chillin with the bartender, Tray is sittin’ in the corner playing pool as usual. We start doing shots. By the time the bar closed, I had had five shots of Hennessy, so I was nice. Maybe nice is not the right word. I was f*cked up. Tray left the bar. Lala left the bar to take the bartender home, and I was chillin in my car when the phone rang. It was Tray, he asked me to wait on the block for him because he had to go drop some people off. The next thing I know, Tray and I are having sex in my car, right outside the Pit.

Now I have never done anything like that. And I wanted Tray, I wanted to have sex with him but not there and not like that. Alcohol and sex do not mix. I barely remembered the incident. The day after next, I go to work, and my friend asked me if I had something to tell her. I told her no. She pulls me in the office and says that not only did she hear about my little rendezvous, but someone was standing outside my car recording the incident with their camera phone. I was mortified!!!!!

The next time I walked into the bar, I felt like everyone was staring at me. I’m sure they all knew what happened. But instead of dwelling on it, I got over it. I decided that I made a mistake, and I’ll learn from it. Now, I can laugh about it. My friends and I even make jokes about it. Live and learn, I guess. What happened with me and Tray?? I guess we’ll have to talk about that later!!!! I’m on my way to the Pit.