I’m exhausted. Plain and simple. This past weekend was cluttered with late nights, drinking, and a multitude of folks crashing at the crib.
On Friday, the night started out with the three amigos (me and my other two cousins) eating at an Indian tapas joint called Bhojanic close to Emory University. I finally found an establishment in the south that serves a kathi roll (it was good, but still not good enough to hold the culinary jock of the kathi roll joint on MacDougal in Manhattan) . One of my cousins ordered a Paneer 65 plate (cubes of paneer sauteed in herbs and spices) and my other cousin order a thali plate with roti, saag paneer, and aloo bhegan. Everything was good – and spicy as all hell. Sometimes, ironically enough, some of the best food you can ever have is that which you have to suffer and persevere through. You know, the kind of food that’ll make you profusely perspire and have your bowels quivering in fear. It’s almost sadistic. You are willing to suffer the pain for the pleasure. You have got to love Indian food!
Anyways, afterwards, we met up a few friends and headed over to the Clermont Lounge (a disappointingly downtrodden strip joint in the A) to start off the evening. Now, we had heard that the Clermont Lounge was a cheap, decent joint that stayed open late. Cheap? Yes. Decent? If your idea of decent is mothers and grandmothers stripping while customers sip on PBR in a seedy joint at the back of a hotel. I haven’t been to many strip clubs, but these dancers were the oldest and most unattractive strippers I’ve ever seen. I mean, what the hell was going on? People actually frequent this joint? Yo, I ain’t no shining gem myself, but damn homey, at the very least, shouldn’t strippers NOT be old enough to be your mother or your mother’s mother? I didn’t know whether to throw dollar bills or tubes of Ben-Gay at the strippers. Maybe I expect too much out of our professional shoe models. Needless to say, we were more than willing to part with our $3 cover charge after 15 minutes. We then headed over to MJQ Concourse to cap off the evening.
On Saturday, after meeting up a few folks at California Pizza Kitchen, we headed back to the crib and had a few drinks before we headed out to Velvet Room. Fwied wice was in the building! I mean, I know that I was in search of my New Year’s resolution, but damn homey, it was like 95% Asian in the joint – and Young Jeezy was a special guest that night – oddly enough. Yo, for years, I’ve been wondering if the way I perceive Asian folks (fwied wice) is the same way other folks observe brown folks. I mean, really, are we brown folks as segregated and afraid to integrate as Asian folks are? After talking to my friends, I think so. Anyways, we still had fun acting a fool with one another and walking around the joint getting the oriental heisman. That night didn’t end until 5am, and consequently since I had to catch an 8am flight that very morning, I didn’t sleep at all. That is why I am exhausted. I’ve barely slept over the past few days. But…like I always say…THAT’S HOW YOU LIVE!
I flew in this morning to Chester….FIRST CLASS! I had a few travel points that are expiring within the week, so I figured I would use a few to upgrade to first class on Airtran. It was perfect, especially because I hadn’t slept all night. I got to lounge in the comfy, spacious first class leather seat. I have NEVER slept so damn well on a plane before. First class (or business class as Airtran likes to call it) is the way to go. I got a few more points I’m going to use on a business class upgrade for my trip to ‘Frisco in a few weeks. I don’t know how often I will fly business class, but it is THE way to go. I’ve gotten a taste of the glamour life – and it is intoxicating and tantalizing! Must I go back to coach and risk being sandwiched and riding bitch?
Again begins another trip to Chester. I’ll be here for only 11 days this time (returning on March 13th just in time to pack up and head out to Savannah the following day). How sad is it that 11 days is “only” 11 days. It seems to have gotten to that point. I mean, I’m only gonna be at my crib (and in the A) approximately 8-10 days next month (maybe less). I fear that Atlanta may soon become my home AWAY from home.
I’m exhausted and my stomach hurts…I’m hitting the sack. Time to count sheep and snatch Z’s.