There are a couple things I know for sure about myself. Number 1, I am mento! Number 2, I am not prejudiced. So it's no wonder that my mento-ness knows no prejudice. Whether it's a crack whore on a San francisco street or a hot established band, everyone pretty much gets the same service of mento- ness.
Such was the case this weekend. I had been working like a dog, doing doubles all week and wasn't going to see a day off for 14 days. I wasn't all that bothered since I play for a living but regardless by Friday I was in dire need of some "me" time. And by "me" time I reAlly just mean a strong drink! One of my favorite friends Rico From Oahu texted me that day and told me he was on island for a night. Perfect! I thought to myself. An excuse to rage center stage!
I was stoked because Rico is one of my favorite characters in life and he travels with a very popular band, so I hardly get to kick it with this dude, but when I do- I know I'm always in for some witty laugh sessions. Rico is named so because simply put he's suave. Rico suave! One of those cats that can charm the panties right off a girl and make them think it was their idea. He's just that charismatic and magnetic and it runs in the family. Rico is cousin to one of my girls from high school who got more game than LeBron James. I've seen many a beauty fall for Ricos rapier wit and infectious personality. It's just addicting. The thing I love the most about Rico, and the rest of the band is that they can really appreciate mento, so me and all of my ridiculousness happen to fit right in without having to dilute any of it to keep social graces or whatever.
Anyhow, that night me and my favorite Asian diva Vera Wang met up with another bandmate Babyface at a bar. Babyface is also cousin to my girl and is the baby of the group and someone I knew before he had hair on his balls. We picked up Babyface and headed straight to their hotel room where Rico was napping to give him a much needed pimp slap. He was in my hood for one night only and there was no way he was going to be napping during my party time. When we got there Rico was already dressed along with the rest of The Mean Band. They're gig was in an hour and they were starving. Of course I talked them into eating at the Korean bar Vera Wang and I were heading over to anyway. They followed suit and didn't have time to eat bc Mama San was too busy making food for a drag show. Bad mama san! Bad!
Anyhow, they were off to their gig and I was left with another local celeb and friend Cameron to drink. Vera had split after her bud cookies made their way into her blood stream and shut down her brain and with it her slanted eyes, but luckily for me, Horny Mchornerson and a few others joined the party. Suddenly, we had a table of dads, brothers, daughters, classmates, teammates, and birthday girls taking shots like we were 50 cent.
One thing lead to another and we got Cameron to sing "man down" on stage with the band, little did I know that would turn out to be my anthem for the night.
What followed after that was a sequence of inexplicit raging and debauchery. After the show had ended a group of us had somehow ended up on the roof of the birthday girls car giving each other not so luxurious and not so calculated cheap champaigne showers. How we happened NOT to get arrested by the 12 Cop cars that filled the parking lot is beside me, but somehow we knew it was time to move out. It was all good since The Mean Band was just about finishing their show.
We headed over to their hotel room. From there i can recall only the most insignificant of details: The Samoan security guard trying to kick us out of the parking lot; Me trying to convince the Samoa security guard that he really didnt have to do that; The both of us arguing; The both of us coming to a compromise that we could sit out by the street like $2 dollar hookers; Some baseball boys walking home from a bar; Talking about how much I hated the baseball boys at my college; Seeing the Mean Band pull into the parking lot in mini vans and giggling about it; Ditching baseball boys; Hanging out by the pool; A longboard beer in my hand; A solo walk on the beach/make myself puke session; The creepy eyes of a Filipino beach walker that kept pacing back and forth me. And This is where I came back to mild consciousness. Those creepy eyes got me. It looked like he wanted to penetrate me, and without my consent too. Like he might actually prefer it that way. I was spooked to say the least and darted off the beach as fast as my drunk legs would allow. I ran to the boys and told them about rape eyes on the beach but could barely get through the details. Man Down, I thought! I was done!
I plopped myself on a chair in one of the empty rooms to watch some late night vh1 and cross my fingers that the floor would stop fucking spinning beneath me but I was out of luck. Finally when I felt like I could socialize again I went out onto the
Lawn where all the bandmates and groupies were hanging out. Babyface was giggling and cart wheeling like a 8 year old school girl.
"Hey", I thought out loud, "I wanna laugh! I can cart wheel too." I said like a bonafide bratzilla.
I could swear I heard Ricos voice challenging me, "no you can't."
Anyone who knows anything about me knows never to challenge me, my competitive nature is like Mike Tyson, I'll bite off your ear before I loose.
"yes I can!" I exclaimed as I hurled myself into the air for a drunken cartwheel. What I was not quite expecting was the damp grass that had been soiled by the sprinklers only moments earlier. As my body came around for a landing my feet flew under me like a virgin ice skater and smack I landed on my bare ass, in front of a band full of witty motha fuckas.
Shit! I thought as I lay on the floor laughing at myself. That was NOT what it looked Like in my head. Immediately roars of laughter came from all around me and there was really nothing else to do but laugh at my ass that was now exposed to the soiled grass.
"Man down!" I yelled, maybe just in my head, I can't remember.
The Mike Tyson inside me heard the laughter and thought one thing,
"I CAN do a cartwheel! I CAN." I had turned into a drunken little engine that could right before their eyes.
"I know I can. I'll show you." and off I went cart wheeling. This time I landed it perfectly.
I jumped up and yelled exuberantly, "see!!! I told u guys. I can do it."
But they were still laughing at me.
"what the fuck are you guys laughing at? I can cart wheel. I may be a little drunk and underestimated a few details in my first attempt but I was just warming up. See I landed it."
They weren't fazed or even slightly convinced by my last perfect cart wheel, so I I did it again.
Wham!
Another perfect cart wheel. But these fuckers were still laughing.
"what the fuck?" I thought out loud. Suddenly the breeze of the ocean air became apparent to my previously numb body and that breeze was moving through my body from my bottom half. I looked down and realized what all the laughing was about. I had seemed to have underestimated another minor detail of the cart wheeling.... The fact that I was wearing a dress and a pink lacy thong. Oh shit Keo, not again! I was like a deer at headlights except I was a drunk bare ass at laughing boy band.
There I was with my dress up at my waist staring in utter confusion at why I was standing there in front of a group full of guys in my underwear. How in the fuck did that just happen, I thought? Pull it together keo, I know you're cooler than this. Dammit, this was strike three for me with this band. While I knew half of the band previously, the others I met in their first trip to Maui. That time I picked up Rico and we met the rest of the band at the hotel parking lot to cruise and toke. As I was walking up to the group of talented and unsuspecting musicians the drummer Kunta came straight to me and practically yelled, "you're black!"
He wasn't asking, he was telling. I was a little taken back by his accusation but not at all shocked, this kind of stuff happened to me all the time, plus i'm pretty jaded to crazy by now.
This being our first meet and greet i tried to minimize my stinging blunt response and said "no I'm not!"
"yes you are!" he demanded again.
"ugh.... No I'm not!" I was starting to get a little irritated. Who the hell was this guy trinna tell me I'm black?
But he persisted, "yes you are! Your built like a black girl."
I didn't know at all what the fuck he was talking about and just replied "I'm pretty sure I'd know if I was black. And I'm not. But it's okay..." I continued, "people think I'm black all the time because I have rhythm like nobodies business."
For a moment there was silence, even the stream of Ricos pissing in the corner stopped for a second, then there was a loud roar of laughter. I guess they thought that was funny. I just thought it was facts.
"I like you" Kunta said, "your funny. You made me laugh within a minute of meeting you. You must be pretty cool."
"cool... Yes! Black... No!" I responded.
I cruised with them for a few hours talking about a whole lot of hilarious nothings. Holy crap all these guys were classic. I couldn't believe it... ALL of them were classic. Or as my royal fuck up of a friend Biggie Smalls would say, these guys were classical. A band full of traveling, talented classical characters, i could barely believe it, but it seems to be the case that characters are like centipedes, where theres one, there's always another close by. It was refreshing! Hardly anyone in Maui is classic like this, And I was reveling in the moment. No one in Maui usually gets my humor, but this was an all night give and take. It was phenomenal! As the joints were circulating the laugher just got more and more heavy. As I took ahold of a joint and went to inhale it's majestic green smoke, my body revolted and exhaled instead. Exhaled the burning bud flame out of the joint wrap and down into the abyss that is my clevage. The rest of the boys were standing around talking and waiting for the joint to come back around and i didnt want to embarass myself by making a scene and sticking my hand violently down my shirt to retrieve the burning flame. Though my exterior was composed, my insides were freaking out and my breasts were on fire! Shit! My plan was to non- chalantly fan it down my shirt before anyone noticed, but like most of my plans, this one went awry. I could feel the lit flame burning down my breast. I started nonchalantly fanning but the fanning wasnt working and the flame started burning down my chest and now my stomach. As the burning sensation ensued my fanning became more aggressive an pronounced. I was starting to do exactly what i didnt want to do: i was making a scene and i knew it because the guys all started staring at me in silence with a confused gaze. The burning continued and I was now jumping in the air from
Foot to foot fanning my top and gyrating my back and butt back and forth to create movement. At this point it was pretty obvious that I wasn't going to get away with NOT making a scene so I quickly scratched that plan and focused in the bigger issue at hand, not getting a 3rd degree burn.
I kept gyrating my butt back and forth like a single ladies back up dancer, but the stubborn burning bud would not quit and i couldnt understand why. It was then that it occurred to me that I was wearing one of my many infamous bodysuits and that the flame was stuck inside. It was then that I lost my shit!
I started yelling and jumping from foot to foot amidst gyrating and fanning "ahhhh.... Ahhhhhhh"
Now all the boys were in stony shock. Rico was so confused he had to get a better footing and started shifting his weight from foot to foot until his feet were shoulder width apart and his arms were crossed against his chest. His head was cocked in confusion, brows crunched wondering what the fuck I was doing. If I had to describe what I looked like, it could most closely be compared to the people at my childhood episcopalian church at the alter when they were being overcome by the holy spirit or simply, abrupt and unexplained lunatic jumping.
I was finally starting to make progress and could feel the fire moving down my body suit toward my leg hole. When it was close enough i swung my leg around and did a Michael Jackson kick. As I landed the kick the red hot flame bud landed on the street floor.
A circle full of irie eyes followed the flame, looked up at me, who was know panting for air and staring down at my burning nemesis, and let out a group, "whoa"!!!
"did that just fall out of your shorts Keo?"
I just nodded with a traumatic glare.
Again roars of laughter... And this time I joined in.
"so that's what all that bouncing was about."
I nodded and tried to change the subject so that maybe they'd forget for a moment what a crazy I might be and maybe for a while they did. Until of course the next time I saw them in Oahu for their Halloween show and I showed up looking like an exact replica of Selena. But that's a story we'll save for NEVER.
Let's just say that this next time we hang out, I'm keeping the champaigne showers to a minimum and doing cart wheels in my bodysuit!
Until we meet again.... Man Down!
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