by 
So when I found out there was a party coming to LA that was gonna play all of the P Poppin, A Shakin music I grew up on in the Midwest and South I was like…uh hhhh-hhhell yeaa I wanna go (in boxer from Harlem Nights stutter). Rounded up a posse. 4 out of six fell off the day of the party. Found a 3rd sista to round out the new posse that I shall call The Poised,Polished and Too Damn Grown For This Shit, But We Still Tryna Drop It Like It’s Luke Warm Posse.
It takes me 30 min to find a place to park. We get in line and the shit is to the corner of Sunset and Argyle. First observation: I’m the grownest mothafucka outchea! But we solider on and meet in line after about 30 minutes of standing in line. The Hollywood Palladium staff was horrible; Inconsistent in treatment, no crowd control skills, and real lackadaisical. They played Back That Ass Up and Fuck Them Other N words while we were in line so I knew I was gonna shake my tail feather when I got in…WRONG!
It was a whole buncha lil girls in there with drawls and t-shirts on. Well I’m exaggerating, but they had on coochie cutters and t-shirts/tanks. Like, ass cheeks was out. Gone catch death of pneumonia! Chick in line told me I have pretty skin. Shouts out to decent skin genes and Maybelline 365…3 something, shit. Anyway, I asked this dude to take a pic of us with my phone. You know this corny ass dude was like nah, not unless you payin. He was serious, he wouldn’t take the picture. Alphas was in the club strolling and blowing that damn whistle. Kappas whoo, yoooing and got daming. SGRhos outside making sounds akin the emergency broadcast system. Apparently, poodles were loose. lol. Now the coupe de gras.
There was this alluring guy I saw outside when we were in line. He has that Michael Jackson 1979 Rock with You natural cut, not quite a curl thing going on. Looked not a day over 22. Chocolate and short, but lean. He was gorgeous. Don’t many people turn my head. Anyway, I eventually see him inside and he has taken off his tank top and is with a bunch of other dudes with no shirts on posturing for a cell phone camera video. As he is putting the tank back on an abomination fell upon my corneas. That damn blue tank top said something something or another Sigma. I bout rolled over in my grave and I ain’t even dead yet. Ugh, a Sigma actually caught my eye. I am ashamed of myself. I have brought dishonor upon myself and my family, therefore I must go all Japanese on you and commit imaginary suicide in the club. FUCK!
Saw this dude I see ever so often when I am out and about. He is reading real fuckboy these days, but I digress. So we had a friend trying to get in. She texted saying that they weren’t letting anyone in because people were bum rushing the doors. We go to the door, but they won’t let us out either. Me being naive, I was like…well they’ll die down. Let’s just go dance some more until she texts us that they are letting the line move again. I had already missed Knuck if You Buck when I went to the bathroom…WRONG!
Chile, she texts like…I’m back at my car, They fighting outside.Then a couple of minutes later some of the doors to the building open. Once again, me being naive I thought the venue was opening extra doors to accommodate the crowd outside and move them in more swiftly…WRONG!
Chile DJ Such In Such comes on the mic like…they shutting us down. The fire marshal is here with LAPD and SWAT and I’m not joking. The house lights came up and we standing there like deer in the headlights. Shit, I had got a little crunk cause they played Tip Drill, Bia Bia , Nolia Clap, and Put Yo Click Up. I was feeling 20 again and here go the drunken masses outside fuckin up the party for those who had already got in. As we were leaving we saw a track of matted weave on the floor. Like, who is losing weave these days?
We get outside before they send the police in to kill our black asses and sho nuff it looked like some shit had gone down. It was a mini war zone. The tables that had been erect when we passed through were just mangled, broken pieces of the past, strewn across the concrete. That one loud staff chick was feigning an injury with the paramedics, LAPD standing outside looking like the shit that they are and fire trucks were pulling up like this was an episode of Rescue 911! It’s 12:22am and the party is over. I done paid for this ticket and parking so I wasn’t ready to go home. Me and Pammmay (in Jerome voice) decide to come up with plan 2.1. We walked, talked, and pretty much did a whole bunch of loitering. Saw a white lady hopped up on some drugs. Cute dress, flip flops, and some off ass body movements. She went north on Cahuenga with a Hispanic dude and came back south on Cahuenga with a bleached blonde white dude. I guess she was following her nose…get it, like Tucan Sam, but with drugs. Ended up at Stout where I asked for half a burger, ate, drank fuh free, talked about how at peace we were with our abbreviated night and realized…shit, the next time we go out we need to have a plan B and C in place for when reggins wanna cut up on dem mollys and whatever the hell the kids do these days and get the party shut down.
I have to be honest. It felt so good to be around so many black people. I felt like I was home. I can’t event be mad about it. It comes with the territory and I miss the grit and hood-ness of it all. (pops open a can of 2003) Ahhh, college nostalgia. Fuck, didn’t hear no Luke, UGK, Eight Ball and MJG, 69 Boyz, 3-6 Mafia, Project Pat, Luda…nothing. So Grits and Biscuits would have been finga lickin good if people would have had patience, the staff at the Palladium were up to par, and there was Waffle House near.
by