The Remainder

Touchdown Sunday
I'm in the airport on Sunday about to fly home. I'm nervous as hell, talking on the phone with a friend trying to express myself, when Hal Linden walks by. That's when I realized TV was flawed. Barney Miller was one of the most underrated shows on TV. And shows today suck! Man, fuck TV!

Anyway, after I shitted my slacks flying back to Detroit, I called my boy, Three so we could go to the Ribs and Soul festival. Before we go he wants to go eat someplace else, 'cuz they rip your ass off at the festival site. Besides, I ain't goin' for the Ribs or the Soul. I'm just trying to see broads.

We stop at this Chinese restaurant downtown near my old apartment. There's this Black girl working behind the counter. I say "girl" because I thought she was 16. She was pretty, pretty enough to be a dope dealer's girlfriend. I try not to notice that type of shit if I think a girl is underage. I walk to the counter and there's this steam table with nothing on it but rice. I look at the table and look at her. "Where's the rest?" "Do you think we just 'posed ta keep errthang out alla time?" Three intervenes, "Hey, employee of the month, just answer his damn question!" I smile, because I'm about to disarm the situation. She speaks before I get the chance. "Let me drive your truck." "Hunh?" "Let me drive your truck." "What? I ain't lettin' you drive nuthin'. Do you even have a license?" "Yep." She goes to her purse to retrieve her license. Raven is apparently 19 and trying to fuck. "Can I drive if I sit on your lap?" I look at Three and he's not listening, he's looking at the menu. "I can't let you do that. Nobody drives the truck but me." She sucks her teeth and takes our orders.

The noteworthy thing about this interaction was that it reminded me of my "Detroit mindset", that mentality where I got a swagger, where I feel I'm the shit, and where that shit is recognized.

I got a bunch of pics from the Ribs and Soul fest, but none for public consumption, lest I get sued.

Black Monday
I made some promises that I would go check out my old stomping grounds in the government offices of the City of Detroit. As miserable and unappreciated as I felt when I was an employee, I genuinely missed the place. For real. I worked with some fuckin' characters, but I worked with some cool ass people too. I only got to see a few of the cool ones, but it seemed like I saw all of the weird ones. I forgot how many juicy bootied women I used to work with. I don't even know how I got shit done! Goodness gracious! Fuck! I had to talk to them like I didn't wanna bend 'em over and bite their left asscheek. That shit was fun. (To my ex co-worker who's lurking: It was good to see you Monday. Don't repeat this shit!!!)

I ran into the new Deputy Director of my old department. He had another title when I was there, he was still higher than me. But he asked me for my card and we exchanged them. He said "It's funny, we have the same title now." "Yeah, funny how that works out, hunh?" I responded. Damn devil. Everytime I saw a person that used to be higher up than I was, they wanted to know if I was trying to come back. They basically know that if that was the case, they'd have to prepare resumes on the spot. I assured them I wasn't.

I checked out Three again, since he doesn't work on Mondays, after hanging out at my old job. We went to the mall, ostensibly so I could buy some kicks, but basically so I could watch hot housewifes and underemployed floozies. "You thinking about coming back?" "I don't know. This shit's depressing. I'm pretty sure I'm moving east." "You learn your lesson yet?" "What lesson?" "Money ain't shit." "That's the lesson?" "That's the lesson, Cotton Candy."

I drove back home to Satan's Anus under cover of night, looking at deer carcasses, trying to think more pleasant thoughts.

I really shoulda got some pussy.

KZ