For the past year and some change, to maintain my chubby figure, I have been playing basketball at the local YMCA as much as I can. Like many areas of my life, I don't have many friends at the YMCA and for the life of me I don't know why. Could it be because I wouldn't let a 45 year old black man get a shot off, blocking his shot and being a defensive pest, after he revealed to me that he was a elitist right-wing conservative?** Could it be that I can be heard telling some random person, "Get That shit outta here" when I block a shot? Could it be because when I go on a roll, scoring 8 or more straight points, I look around and say "Who in the fuck is guarding me anyway??"? Or could it possibly be because when a female college player came in there talking shit, and calling me Bob Marley, I lit her ass up for 25 points and kept calling her "sugar-tits" for 2 hours? OK, maybe I'm not the most likable person.
But I have maintained a pretty good friendship with a dude named Sam. Sam is about 21, a pretty cool guy, and the fact that he is 6'8 and can jump out of the building definitely helps when he is on my team. Because I am 10 years his senior I keep wanting to provide that "Big Brother" advice, give the young brother some words of wisdom. But I always decide against giving him any advice because i realize that he has witnessed me taunt my opponent by suggesting that they were "inbred" and that they had the ball handling abilities of Christopher Reeve, so i don't think Sam would take me seriously.
Sam is a good guy, with a head on his shoulders, and he allows me to pretend that I am Magic Johnson when I throw him a sweet alley-oop and yell out something wildly inappropriate like "Put some nuts in his face!!" For the past few months Sam has been asking me to hang out but I always felt that I was too old to be hanging with a 20 year old. I always tell him "You don't want to hang with a old guy like me." Unfortunately I think I offended him which clearly wasn't my intent, so our "basketball" friendship was strained somewhat.
That was until, and I don't know who gave him the address, he discovered my blog.(Maybe I did and forgot) I felt like an immature bastard when he said the following: "Dude, I read your blog! You like women, drinking, beating dude's asses, and talking shit. That's right up my alley!" (Suddenly the words of my mother rang in my head when she once told me, "HumanityCritic, you are a 31 year old boy!" Gee, thanks mom!) So he invited me to his 21st birthday party that he was having at his sister's house in a couple of days and I figured why not.
The next day I offer to buy him a shitload of booze for his party so I pick him up to buy some. As we are driving I am playing the standard Hip Hop classics. Public Enemy's "Rebel without a Pause", OC's "Times Up", MC Lyte's "10% Diss", and a few other classics. Granted Sam is a big dude, but I wanted to punch him in the jaw when he said, "What is all that old shit you are playing?? Did that shit come out in the 60's? You have any Mike Jones or T.I.? The look on my face must have been menacing as fuck because he giggled and said, "Naw, it's cool. This shit is alright"
After I drop him and the booze off at his sisters house, I tell him that I will be back at the party later. A couple of hours later I arrive at his party, with the sounds of illegitimate hip hop flooding my eardrums. Sam is happy to see me and he introduces me as his "O.G homeboy" which didn't feel like a compliment as I felt gray hairs grow on my beard. I go to the kitchen to grab a beer and I meet his sister, who is about my age. I introduce myself and spark a quick conversation, but as soon as I get a sentence out she puts her hand up and says, "Forget it Honey, I'm a lesbian!" I quickly shot back, "The mere fact that you thought I was trying to get with you from me saying 'Your brother is a good kid' is absolutely amazing!! Get over yourself."
I thought by being so direct that I would be leaving soon but she was cool in the end, asking me if I was planning on getting with any girls at the party. I told her "hell no" primarily because most of the women there were 10 years or more my junior and it would feel awkward. Then some words were uttered that I thought would never come from the lips of any woman, she said: "Hell, they are legal. Pussy is Pussy!" Sarcastically I said, "Great, that's just great" and continued drinking.
Even though I wanted to be there for Sam, the "crunk" music was driving me absolutely bat-shit. But something miraculous happens when alcohol is involved in the equation, the music begins to get better and the women look a lot less like Jail bait. The next thing I know I am free-styling on the Mic with a few of his friends, wondering what happened to my previous plan on leaving that I had moments before.
Moments later this girl comes up and asked me to dance with her. I ask her how old she is and she says that she is 20 years old. (Angel appears on my shoulder) Angel: Now HumanityCritic, you know that girl is too..(I grab the angel off of my shoulder and throw him against the wall) HumanityCritic: Shut the fuck up!! I start to dance with this young woman by the name of Brandy as I am eying her thick thighs, believing that this woman is definitely a beef eater, and thank god for that. She's telling me how cute i am and how much she "wants me". All of this is sounding like a sweet melody to someone who is inebriated and just recently smoked a joint.
As we make out in a bedroom that Sam's sister graciously provided us, and as i grab a condom that has been in my wallet probably since the first Bush administration, the angel that I threw against the wall comes barging in.
Angel: I didn't want to do this Critic, but here goes!(shooting some sort of gun at me)
(Apparently that angel that is usually on my shoulder hit me with some sort of conscious beam, or the weed was getting me paranoid, because I thought the following things.)
1: She's 20, so her Dad is probably my older brother's age. That just ain't right.
2: What if she has some new disease that hasn't been discovered yet, and that nasty shit can penetrate medal, so latex is no problem.
3: What if I knock this broad up, and she wants to name our child some ghetto shit? Like "encyclopedia", or "Corona"? Fuck that..
4. What am I doing? Let me get my black ass home.
So I politely tell the young woman that I'm leaving and I get out of the room before I do something stupid. I see Sam and his sister and at the same time they both throw up their hands and say "Damn that was quick!!", I informed them that nothing happened, and hightailed it out of there like I was Cinderella knowing that my good judgment had a time limit on it. As i am driving home the devil that is usually on my shoulder and my younger self are cursing me the fuck out. I ignored the voices because I knew that I did the right thing, and I didn't want to think about the fact that i might be schizophrenic.
I see Sam the following Monday at the YMCA and as soon as he saw me he giggled, which felt great. He asked me "what happened with Shorty" and I said something like "she wasn't with it man, she said that I was too old." He said, "That's funny, because I told her to let you knock those boots." "What", I said, "You put her up to that??" He told me he had and suddenly i felt like a complete loser that needed to be hooked up. Next thing I know Sam hands me his sister's number, says that she really isn't a lesbian, and she really likes me.
As we talked Sam told me that he considers me a "big brother" and that he invited me to his party to show his appreciation for being a positive influence. Right when my tear ducts started to fill up I say, "Wait, you've read my blog, what positive influence??" He told me that it's how I carry myself and I suddenly felt that Sam had very low standards of a role model. But it made me want to give him that good advice that I always wanted to give, I wanted to act like a responsible adult with class and decorum. I would be the positive influence that this young man needed.
Then 10 minutes later I find myself throwing Sam a alley-oop and yelling "Dunk on that motherfucker!! Put some nuts in his face!!" I guess the "class and decorum" part comes with some practice.
**Sidenote* Don't you hate people who think they are better than other individuals because their education, economic situation, or what they eat or drink? You are a piece of shit, elitest douchebag.)