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... DC's in Brooklyn

2003-02-25 // 9:09 a.m.

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Okay...

You know what?

I'm so pissed off right now. I need to finish this damn entry but shit keeps happenin and I feel like I gotta get it all down or else heads gone be all lost later on. Now I gotta do a couple of these joints to git y'all caught up. Dang it!

Aight... I'mma finish now.....

So, when last we left our hero (well, not really a hero, but just roll wit it...) he had just tripped the alarm on the house. The alarm company calls the house and asks a bunch of questions, one of which is... you guessed it: "Wha's da the password nicca?" (I'm sure they ain't ask it like dat, but that woulda been mad funny! lol!) Dude gives em the old password cuz dats the only one he knows. They say ok (yeah right).

Jump ahead to 10 minutes later:

The cops show up. (Y'all had to know that was comin.)

Popo: Hello, Sir. How you doin this evenin'?

DC: I'm just fine, Officer. And yourself?

Popo: Good... good... Er... uh.. ya wanna take ya hands outta your pockets please?

DC: Uh... Sure no problem.

(Macdiva flippin out on the cellie: "Oh Lawd! Geesus No!! Rodney King! RODNEY KIIIIIING!!!!)

They proceed to ask him about the burglar alarm and eventually the night's events. He gave 'em his version of what happened and they left. Turns out those cops were the same ones that showed up and took her initial incident report after the 911 call. (this will be relevant later.)

So, me and him on the phone afterwards wonderin how he ain't catch a beatdown. All of a sudden he goes, "I don't wanna be here. I don't know if she comin back to the house or not, but I just don't wanna be here."

That makes sense. What happened in that house could definitely be seen as traumatic, to say the least. I suggest he go stay with a friend or at a family member's house for the night. I wouldn't want to be there either. His response? "I wanna come to New York....is it okay? Do you mind?"

That shocked me. I neva, eva woulda seen that one coming. I told him it was okay though, thinkin, "Dat nicca ain't comin up here. Dude lives 200 miles away. It's late. He ain't eat. He ain't sleep. Shorty done clocked him upside the head wit a damn phone. He can't come up here now. Dats nuts." We hung up and after like an hour I went to sleep. I figured he realized that it just wasn't feasible under the circumstances and would call me in the mornin. (Uh... geah... my bad)

At 2:00 am dude calls me as he's pulling out of his driveway, "It should take about three hours, maybe three and a half. So go on back to sleep and I'll be there in a while... I love you."

I fell back asleep and woke up thinkin I dreamt the whole thing. I wasn't sure though, so I called him back. It's 3:30 now and he is definitely comin here!

What da f@#%!? So now I'm fully buggin! Runnin round the house like a maniac...

Aight, girl! You playin "beat da clock" now! Now, run and go git dem ugly ass draws out from soakin in da sink! ...............

Erase all the DC calls you done saved in the caller ID. That stalkin shit ain't neva been cute! ...............

Ooh Lawd! Ya hair look like a pile of "What da f@#%!" Git da Pink Oil! Brush it, girl! Brush it! .............

Oh! Gotdayum! Look at ya freakin feet! Dats what you get for puttin off ya pedicure. Now this nicca gone show up here and think you got a damn problem! No time now ............

Quick! Go git ya Tweety socks! Where ya Tweety socks! Only one Tweety??! Shit!! Git da Taz joints!

No! Wait! Don't put those on! Dat nicca's too agressive! Ahhh! F@#% it!

Slap on some Cocoa Butter, paint ya big toe and hope dat nicca can't see in da dark!

Oh it was definitely ugly, y'all.

Through all of this, he calls a few times to touch base between states and then...

finally...

at 5:15 am...

he's here...

I watch him make his way from his car, down my street, through my front gate, up the stairs. We're still on our cells and I can hear him breathing. I'm freakin out but I wanna play it cool. We don't speak. He just puts down his bags and we hug.

We stay that way for a long time.

The doors are wide open, it's 17 degrees and I'm not wearing a coat but I don't care.... I'm not even there.

"DC's in Brooklyn and he's huggin me."

(I'm about to go into a meeting, but I'll be back in a couple of hours. I need to be done with this already. Especially since things have taken a real f@#%ed up turn as of this mornin'. I'll be back y'all ... macdiva)

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