Post by The Bigger Blacker Jones on May 5, 2014 1:52:52 GMT -6
I watched her stroll into the apartment, and immediately was captivated by the heart-warming look crossing her features which was masked by a tapestry of tattoos that gave off a much different vibe. My heart stuttered in response, but I couldn't show that. Nope, that's not what I learned growing up in the ghetto - neither was standing on the wall pretending to be invisible at a college party but I never said I followed everything my oldheads taught me.
I wanted to do something, to say something to her. Perhaps something suave, or cool, something she hadn't heard before from the other clowns she entertained. I tried to formulate the lines and imagine myself in a desirable light, but I got nothing. My mind was blank. I resorted to tweeting as a coping mechanism because I didn't have the game or confidence to walk up to her and tell her that she was the most beautiful woman in the room and that in my eyes she was nothing less than perfection. But I was tongue-tied.
We made eye contact several times, and like the coward that I am I pretended to be disinterested, an staring off into space despite making my feelings felt over social media. I thought to myself for a moment and I wished I was as brash as my brothers, and that I could lose my inhibitions, suppress my doubts and overcome my fears and do something completely out of my character for once. But I couldn't. I couldn't muster the words, nor could I move a muscle. Who was I kidding anyway? Surely, she'd never be interested in me, some black kid from West Philly who's skills consisted of sleeping in class, smoking medicinal and getting into twitter-spats with professional wrestlers.
She could never be feeling me the way I was feeling her.
Could she?
*BUZZ*
There goes another another twitter notification. The squad is crucifying me. Duke's erupting in laughter beside me, teasing and desperately trying to nudge me in the right direction. Xander and Pond have made a drunken mistake that they'll regret in the morning. Everybody else is pairing off. Am I the only one who's not getting lucky tonight? Man this was quickly looking like one of those nights that I was going to wish never happened - you know the ones where you constantly think of what could have been. I had fate in my hands, but I was dropping the ball. I looked around as the sweat piled up on my brow, searching for the exit so I could slip out and avoid further mortifying scrutiny. But I couldn't. The smell of a strong floral perfume mixed with alcohol lingered in the air, beckoning me. It was intoxicating.
I looked down at my phone again, scrolling my TL. That's when everything changed.
"Are you going to stand over there all night, or are you gonna come over and talk to me."
I looked up again to see her looking over in my direction. This was the moment of truth. I gave the room one last look over, said a prayer, and finally decided to throw caution to the wind. I finally walked over to Wyn, the girl I had pined over the entire night.
Little did I know she would become the Bonnie to my Clyde.
-------------------------------------------------------
Life happens fast. The time ticks on the metronome, and before you know it you've gone from some unknown undergraduate studying communications of all things to an aspiring professional wrestler and current Tag Team Champion. It's surreal. It feels like yesterday I was functioning house parties with Duke, getting drunk out of our minds because we knew no better. Hell, I remember one particular night where I was standing on the wall with a red cup in my hand, too afraid to put my best foot forward and say something to the baddest woman on the planet.
Today, I woke up beside that woman. I held her in my arms, marveled at all of her glorious tats, caressed her soft skin and looked into those diamonds she calls eyes and then it hit me. For the first time in forever I stopped to appreciate where I am.
I've come a long way from the streets of Philadelphia. I've come a long way from being the middle child in a family of 13 (they're not all mom dukes' kids), desperate for attention in the worst possible way. I've come a long way from visiting my brothers in penitentiaries, and crying at night due to the fear that their fate might also be my destiny.
(R)evolution, I've come a LONG way from being that live tweeting jackass who slandered guys like Blake Jones, who showed up late to training and drew the ire of Papa Arino, and gave Jimmy Riley a plethora of migraines.
NOW Ive earned their respect. NOW I'm showing them that there's more to me than meets the eye. I'm more than a minority raised in the ghetto by a single mom who raised four sons and provided everything while my deadbeat father elected to do otherwise. I'm more than the lazy kid who struggled through high school despite having the wits because I was more interested in causing mischief as a rebel without a cause. I'm more than the guy who struggled to find his purpose in life.
That's because I've found that purpose.
When I look at Wyn, I want to give her the world someday because she deserves that and more for taking a chance on this loser.
When I look at my right hand man Duke Togo, I want to reach great heights with him and etch our names in history together, proving everyone who's ever doubted us wrong, but more importantly proving to ourselves that we're not in over our heads and that we do have what it takes.
And when I look at my (R)evo Tag Team Championship, I want to show he world that my biggest achievement wasn't a fluke, and that there's more where that cane from.
And Im going to do just that, because life is short. It can be over in an instant, so while Im still here I'm going to make the most of it.
So get ready Galactic Pretty Boys, because 'the boys our back in town'.
And who are them boys, you ask? Who are Duke Togo and Black Jones? There's a lot of opinions about those two, and it really depends on who you ask if I'm to be completely honest.
But you can call us #RushHour.
I wanted to do something, to say something to her. Perhaps something suave, or cool, something she hadn't heard before from the other clowns she entertained. I tried to formulate the lines and imagine myself in a desirable light, but I got nothing. My mind was blank. I resorted to tweeting as a coping mechanism because I didn't have the game or confidence to walk up to her and tell her that she was the most beautiful woman in the room and that in my eyes she was nothing less than perfection. But I was tongue-tied.
We made eye contact several times, and like the coward that I am I pretended to be disinterested, an staring off into space despite making my feelings felt over social media. I thought to myself for a moment and I wished I was as brash as my brothers, and that I could lose my inhibitions, suppress my doubts and overcome my fears and do something completely out of my character for once. But I couldn't. I couldn't muster the words, nor could I move a muscle. Who was I kidding anyway? Surely, she'd never be interested in me, some black kid from West Philly who's skills consisted of sleeping in class, smoking medicinal and getting into twitter-spats with professional wrestlers.
She could never be feeling me the way I was feeling her.
Could she?
*BUZZ*
There goes another another twitter notification. The squad is crucifying me. Duke's erupting in laughter beside me, teasing and desperately trying to nudge me in the right direction. Xander and Pond have made a drunken mistake that they'll regret in the morning. Everybody else is pairing off. Am I the only one who's not getting lucky tonight? Man this was quickly looking like one of those nights that I was going to wish never happened - you know the ones where you constantly think of what could have been. I had fate in my hands, but I was dropping the ball. I looked around as the sweat piled up on my brow, searching for the exit so I could slip out and avoid further mortifying scrutiny. But I couldn't. The smell of a strong floral perfume mixed with alcohol lingered in the air, beckoning me. It was intoxicating.
I looked down at my phone again, scrolling my TL. That's when everything changed.
"Are you going to stand over there all night, or are you gonna come over and talk to me."
I looked up again to see her looking over in my direction. This was the moment of truth. I gave the room one last look over, said a prayer, and finally decided to throw caution to the wind. I finally walked over to Wyn, the girl I had pined over the entire night.
Little did I know she would become the Bonnie to my Clyde.
-------------------------------------------------------
Life happens fast. The time ticks on the metronome, and before you know it you've gone from some unknown undergraduate studying communications of all things to an aspiring professional wrestler and current Tag Team Champion. It's surreal. It feels like yesterday I was functioning house parties with Duke, getting drunk out of our minds because we knew no better. Hell, I remember one particular night where I was standing on the wall with a red cup in my hand, too afraid to put my best foot forward and say something to the baddest woman on the planet.
Today, I woke up beside that woman. I held her in my arms, marveled at all of her glorious tats, caressed her soft skin and looked into those diamonds she calls eyes and then it hit me. For the first time in forever I stopped to appreciate where I am.
I've come a long way from the streets of Philadelphia. I've come a long way from being the middle child in a family of 13 (they're not all mom dukes' kids), desperate for attention in the worst possible way. I've come a long way from visiting my brothers in penitentiaries, and crying at night due to the fear that their fate might also be my destiny.
(R)evolution, I've come a LONG way from being that live tweeting jackass who slandered guys like Blake Jones, who showed up late to training and drew the ire of Papa Arino, and gave Jimmy Riley a plethora of migraines.
NOW Ive earned their respect. NOW I'm showing them that there's more to me than meets the eye. I'm more than a minority raised in the ghetto by a single mom who raised four sons and provided everything while my deadbeat father elected to do otherwise. I'm more than the lazy kid who struggled through high school despite having the wits because I was more interested in causing mischief as a rebel without a cause. I'm more than the guy who struggled to find his purpose in life.
That's because I've found that purpose.
When I look at Wyn, I want to give her the world someday because she deserves that and more for taking a chance on this loser.
When I look at my right hand man Duke Togo, I want to reach great heights with him and etch our names in history together, proving everyone who's ever doubted us wrong, but more importantly proving to ourselves that we're not in over our heads and that we do have what it takes.
And when I look at my (R)evo Tag Team Championship, I want to show he world that my biggest achievement wasn't a fluke, and that there's more where that cane from.
And Im going to do just that, because life is short. It can be over in an instant, so while Im still here I'm going to make the most of it.
So get ready Galactic Pretty Boys, because 'the boys our back in town'.
And who are them boys, you ask? Who are Duke Togo and Black Jones? There's a lot of opinions about those two, and it really depends on who you ask if I'm to be completely honest.
But you can call us #RushHour.
