Posts Tagged ‘Money’
Onehunnidt – “Werk” [VIDEO]
Friday, June 29, 2012 by
Team Greedmont |
No Comments |
Category: Career, Daily Inspiration, Music, Music Video, Rap, Sex Love Money, Video
Trust me. We at Greedmont Park truly understand what can result from hard work. Mach Five just completed their Ratchet Shit Trilogy in 2 months. With little time to celebrate, and before I knew it, they were already shooting their video for “Turn Up Juice.” Word of the Day/Month/Year: Werk.
Since winning the 2012 SXSW Coast 2 Coast in March, I haven’t seen Houston lyricist Onehunnidt celebrating much. Sure, he did host a number of events at some known hot spots, but even then he was putting in “werk.” Even after the amount of recognition on his “Keep It 100″ mixtape and a number of mentions by the Houston Press, Onehunnidt has continued to release new tracks and relevant videos that complement the project. The latest, directed by Coreigh Terry, being “Werk.”
Forget what they told you. Life is a marathon, not a sprint. Jesse Owens and Usain Bolt never quit after their first win. How many total miles would you say they have ran? Werk.
Sore Losers – “Group Economics” [VIDEO]
Wednesday, June 20, 2012 by
Team Greedmont |
No Comments |
Category: Daily Inspiration, Music, Rap, Sex Love Money
Dallas based Sore Losers released their new video “Group Economics” in the clutch for Juneteenth. I didn’t see many videos that followed their example, but that’s neither here nor there. No soapbox here.
Available on itunes:
http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/we-are-sore-losers/id499610935
————————————————————————–
Produced By: Joseph Kindred
Directed By: Colin Pierce
Director of Photography: David Eaton
Remaking America: From Poverty to Prosperity
Sunday, January 22, 2012 by
Isabelle Ofume |
No Comments |
Category: Culture, Daily Inspiration, Politics, Uncategorized
On January 12, 2012, bloggers, journalist, students, professors, some of DC’s most influential people, 7 panelist, and a moderator took part in one of the most important conversations in 2012, thus far. Broadcasting live on C-SPAN, the internet, and a few radio stations, Americans got the opportunity to listen in first-hand on the opinion on how poverty in America can be reduced, if not removed. Tavis Smiley, as moderator of this great event at George Washington University, asked some of the questions that has been hovering over most Americans heads.
(more…)
Sore Losers – “Euthanasia” [Video]
Friday, January 13, 2012 by
Team Greedmont |
No Comments |
Category: Alternative/Rock, Culture, Entertainment, Music, Music Video, Politics, Rap, Uncategorized
In November of 2011, Dallas-based hip-hop six-piece Sore Losers released their lead single, “Euthanasia,” exclusively on GRAMMY.com. After designing the single art (pictured below) and receiving positive responses to the message, the video directed by Walu pushed the song’s visuals to a new height.
The group describes “Euthanasia” as “mankind’s ultimate quest to understand reality while attempting to use science to manipulate and control his destiny on Earth. The constant struggle we experience as individuals; the quest for control over our lives while yielding to a higher power.”
Are You A Good Tipper? [INFOGRAPHICS]
Saturday, August 20, 2011 by
Team Greedmont |
No Comments |
Category: Comedy, Culture, Daily Inspiration, Sex Love Money
A couple days ago, I glanced at an opinion article that addressed “Blacks being poor tippers.” I didn’t feel a certain way about it. I generally “pay it forward,” if I have the means to. I do feel that genuinely good service should be rewarded, but sometimes people “just ain’t got it,” regardless of race. Is it still a recession? I forget. Do you reward a job well done accordingly? As some would say, it’s good to pay your tithes.
Hump DAZE *The Beginning of the End*
Wednesday, June 29, 2011 by
PointOfLu |
No Comments |
Category: Entertainment
Ryan
Shopping in Atlantic Station can sometimes be more of a hassle than a great experience- especially during the spring. Whose bright idea was it to park our cars underneath the stores, thus causing me to always misplace it?
I recalled parking it around a Publix- but now that I’ve just left H&M, where the hell do I go from here?
I didn’t have the patience to be running around these streets just to look for the store that you parked underneath!
Or, maybe it was just too early to deal with the bullshit.
I walked down the flight of stairs that were in front of Kilwin’s, suddenly realizing that there were numbers at the top of the staircases. Why didn’t I notice them before?
I should’ve just shopped at Perimeter. More choices, air conditioning and eye candy. Atlantic Station seemed to be slowly formulating into an Underground Atlanta…part 2.
It was the tail end of a long, cool afternoon of shopping and both of my hands grasped bags from H&M, Banana Republic, Jos. A. Bank and Gap. I’m definitely not complaining about these purchases, but you try and maintain your composure as you strut around carrying bags full of impulse purchases around and around Atlantic Station’s blocks of stores. To make matters worse, I was starving and my bladder felt as if it was about to burst open.
After several minutes of walking around the underground parking lot, I finally spotted my car. Though small, I knew it should never be this hard to spot a BMW M6. Next time I’d be sure to keep a mental note of the number at the top of the stairwell.
I placed the shopping bags into the trunk of my car, and ran back up the stairs- almost slipping once I reached the top. Luckily, nobody was around to witness my loss of grace! As I emerged from the staircase, I looked for it’s number.
12.
That was easy to remember. I’d hosted monthly networking socials at the nearby Twelve Hotel.
My bladder continued to scream at me as I looked around for a restaurant that could relieve me of my distress, as well as cease my unwavering desire for sushi.
“Mmmmmmm…” A hungry moan escaped from my lips as I envisioned a plate of Boston Rolls and Kani.
Suddenly, an idea popped into my head that illuminated the solution to my dilemma like a light bulb.
The Strip.
I made my way down the street toward Regal Cinema, remembering that The Strip stood right in front of it. The trek wasn’t as hard without bags of clothes and shoes weighing me down.
I entered the restaurant and asked the hostess if I could relieve myself before I was seated. She pointed me toward the direction of the restrooms, and I thanked her as I quickly jogged across the dining area and made my way upstairs to the bar and lounge area where the restrooms were located. The closer I got, the more desperate the need to empty my bladder seemed to become!
Don’t you hate when that happens?
I burst through the door, headed to the first urinal that was available, unleashed myself and finally began to pour.
The satisfying feeling forced my eyes closed and sent chills through my spine.
Suddenly, my bliss was abruptly interrupted.
“Should I be flattered about the fact that you’re so close to me?”
A completely random comment from a stranger seized me from my moment.
I looked to my right side and saw another man standing in front of the urinal beside me. I couldn’t believe that I didn’t notice him upon my rush to relieve. However, when do you ever take a good look at anybody in the bathroom? Don’t people usually just go in there to take care of their business, and then move forward with their lives?
I gave him a once over.
He did the same.
His attire captured my attention. I appreciated people who possessed a sense of style-whether gentleman, or lady. I believe that fashion is a form of art that can work wonders and change lives if properly utilized!
Perception and presentation is reality.
He was wearing a white button up, dark blue denim jeans and an ocean blue and gray fedora that matched up to his gray and blue Chucks. These were the same Converse shoes that I saw in Abbadabba’s last weekend!
I was pretty upset that they didn’t have my size.
He was tall with an athletic build, and his smooth, caramel complexion conflicted with what seemed to be a wild, nappy haircut underneath his fedora. It seemed to work for him, though.
My initial judgment only took a matter of seconds.
“Pardon me?” I took my eyes off of him, and returned my gaze to my business in the black urinal in front of me.
“Don’t get offended.” The guy flushed the toilet, and headed toward the sinks. “I just find it cool that you stood next to me to use the bathroom. Nobody does that these days. I’ve noticed that there could be two open urinals around me, but most would rather wait for me to finish. I guess peeing next to a fellow man makes you queer, eh?”
“Oh, wow.” I laughed at his observation and flushed the toilet. “I never noticed that. To be honest, I didn’t even notice you were there. I just needed to go really bad and I hopped on the first urinal that I saw.”
“Whoa.” The man looked at me in the mirror as he began washing his hands. “I wonder what would’ve happened if the urinal I was using was the first one you saw.”
I laughed nervously and washed my hands as he started to dry his.
“Hey, do you know of anything going on in this area tonight? I just got into town for my sister’s birthday, and I’d like to make the best of my stay.” He tossed his wet paper towels into the trash.
“Oh, really?” I took a look in the mirror and made sure that I was presentable. “Well, you’ve stumbled upon the perfect person! I organize various upscale events around the Atlanta area. We have an event in the next couple of days. What kind of scene are you looking for?”
“To be honest, I’m not sure! What does the city have to offer?”
“It really depends on what you want.” I dried my hands, and tossed the paper towels toward the trashcan. They missed the hole by inches. Embarrassed, I grabbed the papers from the ground and dropped them in. “What do you like?”
“Trouble.” The mysterious man smiled.
I returned the gesture.
Toure
The idea of dreaming is so complex. You have minimal control in a dimension that wouldn’t even exist if it weren’t for your attendance or cooperation. What are dreams supposed to be- besides vivid imagery of your deepest conscious and subconscious thoughts that seem to occur only as you enter a state of unconsciousness?
I hadn’t been doing much dreaming, but random thoughts continued to bounce around the walls of my psyche at a rapid pace.
I was still sitting on the couch, my phone within arms reach. I’d put it on the silent setting in order to simmer the anticipation that seemed to boil over onto my every thought as I waited to receive a response from Angela.
It seemed to be a genius idea at the time, but it definitely didn’t help. I was still checking my phone every other moment- only to be disappointed.
Expectations were even more complex than dreams.
Assumptions even more than the former.
I slid off of the couch and headed to the bathroom to wash my face. Thoughts of her followed closely behind.
The effect that she had over me was stiffening. It seemed as if all of my actions were fueled by my emotions, and my logical thoughts were confined by my love for her. What kind of person stays in bed until they receive a response from their significant other?
A sorry, hopeless romantic like myself.
It was as if she were the filter to my every action, the editor of my every move.
I dried my face and made my way back to the living room where my phone remained. I picked it up, preparing myself for more disappointment.
Of course there was nothing.
I don’t believe that any amount of preparation could soften the blow of her neglect. It was time to give her a call since texting didn’t seem to work. I pulled up her name on my contacts list and took a deep breath as I pressed “CALL”.
Riiiiinnng.
I swallowed.
Riiiiinnng.
A dark cloud of doubt slowly made it’s way over toward me.
Riiiiinnng.
Hopefully she’d pick up before its arrival.
Riiiiinnng.
I accepted the fact that she probably wasn’t going to.
“Hello?” Angela picked up her phone on the 5th ring.
“Hey, Angel.” I was relieved to finally get some type of response from her. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing. I’m about to walk into Strip.”
“Oh, that’s good. I didn’t know that you had to work today.”
“I wish I didn’t have to.” Aggravation saturated her voice.
“Me too.” I tried to lighten up the conversation. “Maybe we could’ve kicked it.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
An awkward silence forced it’s way between us.
“Is there a reason that you’re being so short with me?”
“No, not really. I’m just tired and annoyed.”
“Annoyed with me?”
“Not necessarily.”
“What’s bothering you? Is there anything that I can do to help?”
“I’m not sure, to be honest. I’ll be fine.”
“I just hope it has nothing to do with me.” I wasn’t sure if it was the best time to ask about my text messages, but I needed to know something before it drove me crazy. “Have you been getting my texts?”
“Which ones?” She asked.
I couldn’t grasp the reason that she’d ask about which messages I was referring to if she hadn’t received any of them. And if she did get them, why wouldn’t she just respond to them?
“The one about you having a good night, and then the other one about having time for me.”
“Oh yeah, I got those. I just haven’t had time to respond to them yet. My phone was dead.”
If her phone was dead, how was she speaking to me now? Why could she pick up phone calls, but not respond to my text messages? Something just wasn’t adding up.
“Were you not able to charge it this morning, Angela? Where were you?”
“Yes, Toure. That’s the exact reason why we’re on the phone now.”
I hated it when she spoke to me as if I were mentally inferior.
“I know we wouldn’t be on the phone unless it was charged, Angela. I’m not an idiot.” I was beginning to believe that she just didn’t want to speak to me. No matter how you twist it, people ultimately make time for who and what they want to make time for. She obviously had no time for me lately. “But how about before then? Couldn’t you respond to me on your way to work, or as you were charging your phone? What were you doing this morning?”
“I was at Derrick’s apartment chilling before I had to come to work. That’s where I charged my phone. Any more questions?”
I paused before I said anything, because I didn’t want to come off as an asshole. I didn’t want to upset her and start an argument because we’d never resolve anything then. On the contrary, we weren’t doing a good job at solving anything right now, either.
I hated Derrick. Well, maybe not the actual person. I never met him. I hated what he did to my relationship with Angela. She seemed to always find time for him, but never found time to make me a priority. I didn’t know what it was about him that caught her attention- besides the fact that he worked at the same restaurant as her.
I took a deep breath before I proceeded.
“I’m not trying to bother or annoy you, Angela. I just don’t understand why you couldn’t just respond to my text message when you received it. It’s common courtesy. I’m here whenever you need me, and I’m just asking you for the same care and respect.“
“Okay, Toure. We can talk about this later. I really need to go clock in before I’m late.”
This conversation was the outcome of an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object. We were going nowhere fast.
“I don’t understand it, Angela! All I’m asking is for you to take my feelings into consideration!” I erupted. “You’re really acting like you’d rather go on without me! I mean, what difference would it make? We hardly talk anyway!”
“I’d just rather live without your constant bitching!” She snapped back.
“Bitching?” Her words tore through my ego. “So you’re calling me a bitch, now?”
“Take it as you please, Toure.”
“Fuck you!” I frantically scrambled for a rebuttal that would do the same damage.
I came up with nothing.
Hurting somebody that you loved wasn’t a simple task.
The next sound I heard was that of her dial tone.
Angela
I turned off my phone, placed it into my purse and exited the break room. I didn’t need any extra stress while I was on the job, and Toure’ was bringing more than enough of it. I was already in an irritable mood because of the expected Aunt Flow, and working while I was still tired wasn’t making anything easier.
I couldn’t understand how a man could be so sensitive and clingy. He needed to find a life- outside of me.
“Where am I this afternoon?” I asked my shift manager as I tied an apron around my waist.
“You won’t be anywhere until you erase that frown from your face!” She responded with a smirk. “Relax, girl. It’s a beautiful day!”
She was right.
Though cool outside, you could witness the frigid winter finally making its exit. The sun hung over the city longer than usual, illuminating the new bloom of this season’s seeds. Spring was near.
I wouldn’t consider Toure’ an actual problem from my past, but he was definitely becoming a predicament of my present. It seemed as if the romance we once shared was progressively dissipating from our relationship, and becoming replenished with animosity. Toure and I spoke every day, but it was as if we hardly communicated. We hardly held whole conversations these days- and whenever we did speak, an argument violently pushed the conversation to the side. There was constantly a reason to disagree when it came to our relationship, and I was growing weary.
Were relationships supposed to be this difficult?
Almost a year ago, Toure and I met in an English class. He became my tutor- if you consider him writing almost all of my essays as being a tutor. He was an aspiring journalist who was pursuing a degree in Communications. We began to hang out more and more, and over time I inevitably developed feelings for him. I fell in love with his mind. He had an amazing way with words, and was always so sweet and thoughtful toward me.
On the contrary, I always felt as if there were something missing. I still have no idea what this something may be, but I honestly didn’t believe that I’d be around much longer to figure it out.
There had to be something else.
Something better.
Better for me.
The manager pointed me toward my section where an attractive man sat alone playing with his iPhone.
He had to be waiting on somebody.
I painted on an imaginary smile as I approached the booth. On the table sat a single menu.
He’d be dining alone.
“Good afternoon!” I exclaimed. “My name is Angela, and I’ll be taking care of you today. Could I start you off with a beverage?”
“Good afternoon, Angela.” The man smiled at me and his beautiful straight, white teeth caught me off guard. “My name is Ryan, and I’d love a glass of water as I look over your sushi menu.”
I hope you enjoyed the 3rd chapter of my weekly short story series, Hump DAZE! If you happened to miss the 2nd installment- or just need to refresh your memory, CLICK HERE! Stay tuned for the 4th chapter next Wednesday!
Follow me on Twitter @PointOfLu
Bike Lanes in NYC
Thursday, June 16, 2011 by
Team Greedmont |
2 Comments; |
Category: Comedy, Culture, Politics, Video
I haven’t visited New York yet, but it’s good to know they are ticketing cats for not riding in the designated bike lanes. Is this necessary? I see it as a statement by the city saying, “If you aren’t going to buy gas, we’ll get your money by other means.”
The bike paths seems to promote a safer alternative to riding in the streets, but Casey Neistat does a great job showing how the lanes can also be more hazardous in a comedic way.
Capitalism.
Thursday, June 2, 2011 by
Team Greedmont |
No Comments |
Category: Art, Career, Comedy, Culture, Entertainment, Illustration, Politics, Sex Love Money
A picture is worth a thousand words. ‘Nuff said.
Good Enough, Dammit!
Monday, May 23, 2011 by
Team Greedmont |
6 Comments; |
Category: Career, Culture, Daily Inspiration, Sex Love Money
I can remember very little about my years in high school. Other than playing team sports, teenage hormones, and art, it wasn’t a choice for me not to graduate. I didn’t quite understand how minimum wage worked, but I saw that fast food didn’t lead to wealth. And as a kid, there were a lot of things I wanted!
I’m unsure where, or when, I developed this early understanding of the socioeconomic status, but I just knew I wanted more. To get more, meant to graduate with a decent GPA and score well enough on the SATs to get into a college. I wasn’t sure what I would major in. I just wanted to live better and had an understanding that education would help me achieve my goals.
Penny or a Prayer. [Opinion]
Thursday, April 28, 2011 by
Team Greedmont |
No Comments |
Category: Culture, Daily Inspiration, Sex Love Money
Thoughts often become premeditated actions. When written, they can often form plans. When spoken, they can become an opinion. In theory, that could conclude that thoughts can be transformed into a strong driving power. One that unites and moves a people. But an unspoken thought is merely a dream. (more…)
Onehunnidt – “Werk” [VIDEO]
Friday, June 29, 2012 by Team Greedmont | No Comments | Category: Career, Daily Inspiration, Music, Music Video, Rap, Sex Love Money, Video
Trust me. We at Greedmont Park truly understand what can result from hard work. Mach Five just completed their Ratchet Shit Trilogy in 2 months. With little time to celebrate, and before I knew it, they were already shooting their video for “Turn Up Juice.” Word of the Day/Month/Year: Werk.
Since winning the 2012 SXSW Coast 2 Coast in March, I haven’t seen Houston lyricist Onehunnidt celebrating much. Sure, he did host a number of events at some known hot spots, but even then he was putting in “werk.” Even after the amount of recognition on his “Keep It 100″ mixtape and a number of mentions by the Houston Press, Onehunnidt has continued to release new tracks and relevant videos that complement the project. The latest, directed by Coreigh Terry, being “Werk.”
Forget what they told you. Life is a marathon, not a sprint. Jesse Owens and Usain Bolt never quit after their first win. How many total miles would you say they have ran? Werk.
Sore Losers – “Group Economics” [VIDEO]
Wednesday, June 20, 2012 by Team Greedmont | No Comments | Category: Daily Inspiration, Music, Rap, Sex Love Money
Dallas based Sore Losers released their new video “Group Economics” in the clutch for Juneteenth. I didn’t see many videos that followed their example, but that’s neither here nor there. No soapbox here.
Available on itunes:
http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/we-are-sore-losers/id499610935
————————————————————————–
Produced By: Joseph Kindred
Directed By: Colin Pierce
Director of Photography: David Eaton
Remaking America: From Poverty to Prosperity
Sunday, January 22, 2012 by Isabelle Ofume | No Comments | Category: Culture, Daily Inspiration, Politics, Uncategorized
On January 12, 2012, bloggers, journalist, students, professors, some of DC’s most influential people, 7 panelist, and a moderator took part in one of the most important conversations in 2012, thus far. Broadcasting live on C-SPAN, the internet, and a few radio stations, Americans got the opportunity to listen in first-hand on the opinion on how poverty in America can be reduced, if not removed. Tavis Smiley, as moderator of this great event at George Washington University, asked some of the questions that has been hovering over most Americans heads.
(more…)
Sore Losers – “Euthanasia” [Video]
Friday, January 13, 2012 by Team Greedmont | No Comments | Category: Alternative/Rock, Culture, Entertainment, Music, Music Video, Politics, Rap, Uncategorized
In November of 2011, Dallas-based hip-hop six-piece Sore Losers released their lead single, “Euthanasia,” exclusively on GRAMMY.com. After designing the single art (pictured below) and receiving positive responses to the message, the video directed by Walu pushed the song’s visuals to a new height.
The group describes “Euthanasia” as “mankind’s ultimate quest to understand reality while attempting to use science to manipulate and control his destiny on Earth. The constant struggle we experience as individuals; the quest for control over our lives while yielding to a higher power.”
Are You A Good Tipper? [INFOGRAPHICS]
Saturday, August 20, 2011 by Team Greedmont | No Comments | Category: Comedy, Culture, Daily Inspiration, Sex Love Money
A couple days ago, I glanced at an opinion article that addressed “Blacks being poor tippers.” I didn’t feel a certain way about it. I generally “pay it forward,” if I have the means to. I do feel that genuinely good service should be rewarded, but sometimes people “just ain’t got it,” regardless of race. Is it still a recession? I forget. Do you reward a job well done accordingly? As some would say, it’s good to pay your tithes.
Hump DAZE *The Beginning of the End*
Wednesday, June 29, 2011 by PointOfLu | No Comments | Category: Entertainment
Ryan
Shopping in Atlantic Station can sometimes be more of a hassle than a great experience- especially during the spring. Whose bright idea was it to park our cars underneath the stores, thus causing me to always misplace it?
I recalled parking it around a Publix- but now that I’ve just left H&M, where the hell do I go from here?
I didn’t have the patience to be running around these streets just to look for the store that you parked underneath!
Or, maybe it was just too early to deal with the bullshit.
I walked down the flight of stairs that were in front of Kilwin’s, suddenly realizing that there were numbers at the top of the staircases. Why didn’t I notice them before?
I should’ve just shopped at Perimeter. More choices, air conditioning and eye candy. Atlantic Station seemed to be slowly formulating into an Underground Atlanta…part 2.
It was the tail end of a long, cool afternoon of shopping and both of my hands grasped bags from H&M, Banana Republic, Jos. A. Bank and Gap. I’m definitely not complaining about these purchases, but you try and maintain your composure as you strut around carrying bags full of impulse purchases around and around Atlantic Station’s blocks of stores. To make matters worse, I was starving and my bladder felt as if it was about to burst open.
After several minutes of walking around the underground parking lot, I finally spotted my car. Though small, I knew it should never be this hard to spot a BMW M6. Next time I’d be sure to keep a mental note of the number at the top of the stairwell.
I placed the shopping bags into the trunk of my car, and ran back up the stairs- almost slipping once I reached the top. Luckily, nobody was around to witness my loss of grace! As I emerged from the staircase, I looked for it’s number.
12.
That was easy to remember. I’d hosted monthly networking socials at the nearby Twelve Hotel.
My bladder continued to scream at me as I looked around for a restaurant that could relieve me of my distress, as well as cease my unwavering desire for sushi.
“Mmmmmmm…” A hungry moan escaped from my lips as I envisioned a plate of Boston Rolls and Kani.
Suddenly, an idea popped into my head that illuminated the solution to my dilemma like a light bulb.
The Strip.
I made my way down the street toward Regal Cinema, remembering that The Strip stood right in front of it. The trek wasn’t as hard without bags of clothes and shoes weighing me down.
I entered the restaurant and asked the hostess if I could relieve myself before I was seated. She pointed me toward the direction of the restrooms, and I thanked her as I quickly jogged across the dining area and made my way upstairs to the bar and lounge area where the restrooms were located. The closer I got, the more desperate the need to empty my bladder seemed to become!
Don’t you hate when that happens?
I burst through the door, headed to the first urinal that was available, unleashed myself and finally began to pour.
The satisfying feeling forced my eyes closed and sent chills through my spine.
Suddenly, my bliss was abruptly interrupted.
“Should I be flattered about the fact that you’re so close to me?”
A completely random comment from a stranger seized me from my moment.
I looked to my right side and saw another man standing in front of the urinal beside me. I couldn’t believe that I didn’t notice him upon my rush to relieve. However, when do you ever take a good look at anybody in the bathroom? Don’t people usually just go in there to take care of their business, and then move forward with their lives?
I gave him a once over.
He did the same.
His attire captured my attention. I appreciated people who possessed a sense of style-whether gentleman, or lady. I believe that fashion is a form of art that can work wonders and change lives if properly utilized!
Perception and presentation is reality.
He was wearing a white button up, dark blue denim jeans and an ocean blue and gray fedora that matched up to his gray and blue Chucks. These were the same Converse shoes that I saw in Abbadabba’s last weekend!
I was pretty upset that they didn’t have my size.
He was tall with an athletic build, and his smooth, caramel complexion conflicted with what seemed to be a wild, nappy haircut underneath his fedora. It seemed to work for him, though.
My initial judgment only took a matter of seconds.
“Pardon me?” I took my eyes off of him, and returned my gaze to my business in the black urinal in front of me.
“Don’t get offended.” The guy flushed the toilet, and headed toward the sinks. “I just find it cool that you stood next to me to use the bathroom. Nobody does that these days. I’ve noticed that there could be two open urinals around me, but most would rather wait for me to finish. I guess peeing next to a fellow man makes you queer, eh?”
“Oh, wow.” I laughed at his observation and flushed the toilet. “I never noticed that. To be honest, I didn’t even notice you were there. I just needed to go really bad and I hopped on the first urinal that I saw.”
“Whoa.” The man looked at me in the mirror as he began washing his hands. “I wonder what would’ve happened if the urinal I was using was the first one you saw.”
I laughed nervously and washed my hands as he started to dry his.
“Hey, do you know of anything going on in this area tonight? I just got into town for my sister’s birthday, and I’d like to make the best of my stay.” He tossed his wet paper towels into the trash.
“Oh, really?” I took a look in the mirror and made sure that I was presentable. “Well, you’ve stumbled upon the perfect person! I organize various upscale events around the Atlanta area. We have an event in the next couple of days. What kind of scene are you looking for?”
“To be honest, I’m not sure! What does the city have to offer?”
“It really depends on what you want.” I dried my hands, and tossed the paper towels toward the trashcan. They missed the hole by inches. Embarrassed, I grabbed the papers from the ground and dropped them in. “What do you like?”
“Trouble.” The mysterious man smiled.
I returned the gesture.
Toure
The idea of dreaming is so complex. You have minimal control in a dimension that wouldn’t even exist if it weren’t for your attendance or cooperation. What are dreams supposed to be- besides vivid imagery of your deepest conscious and subconscious thoughts that seem to occur only as you enter a state of unconsciousness?
I hadn’t been doing much dreaming, but random thoughts continued to bounce around the walls of my psyche at a rapid pace.
I was still sitting on the couch, my phone within arms reach. I’d put it on the silent setting in order to simmer the anticipation that seemed to boil over onto my every thought as I waited to receive a response from Angela.
It seemed to be a genius idea at the time, but it definitely didn’t help. I was still checking my phone every other moment- only to be disappointed.
Expectations were even more complex than dreams.
Assumptions even more than the former.
I slid off of the couch and headed to the bathroom to wash my face. Thoughts of her followed closely behind.
The effect that she had over me was stiffening. It seemed as if all of my actions were fueled by my emotions, and my logical thoughts were confined by my love for her. What kind of person stays in bed until they receive a response from their significant other?
A sorry, hopeless romantic like myself.
It was as if she were the filter to my every action, the editor of my every move.
I dried my face and made my way back to the living room where my phone remained. I picked it up, preparing myself for more disappointment.
Of course there was nothing.
I don’t believe that any amount of preparation could soften the blow of her neglect. It was time to give her a call since texting didn’t seem to work. I pulled up her name on my contacts list and took a deep breath as I pressed “CALL”.
Riiiiinnng.
I swallowed.
Riiiiinnng.
A dark cloud of doubt slowly made it’s way over toward me.
Riiiiinnng.
Hopefully she’d pick up before its arrival.
Riiiiinnng.
I accepted the fact that she probably wasn’t going to.
“Hello?” Angela picked up her phone on the 5th ring.
“Hey, Angel.” I was relieved to finally get some type of response from her. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing. I’m about to walk into Strip.”
“Oh, that’s good. I didn’t know that you had to work today.”
“I wish I didn’t have to.” Aggravation saturated her voice.
“Me too.” I tried to lighten up the conversation. “Maybe we could’ve kicked it.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
An awkward silence forced it’s way between us.
“Is there a reason that you’re being so short with me?”
“No, not really. I’m just tired and annoyed.”
“Annoyed with me?”
“Not necessarily.”
“What’s bothering you? Is there anything that I can do to help?”
“I’m not sure, to be honest. I’ll be fine.”
“I just hope it has nothing to do with me.” I wasn’t sure if it was the best time to ask about my text messages, but I needed to know something before it drove me crazy. “Have you been getting my texts?”
“Which ones?” She asked.
I couldn’t grasp the reason that she’d ask about which messages I was referring to if she hadn’t received any of them. And if she did get them, why wouldn’t she just respond to them?
“The one about you having a good night, and then the other one about having time for me.”
“Oh yeah, I got those. I just haven’t had time to respond to them yet. My phone was dead.”
If her phone was dead, how was she speaking to me now? Why could she pick up phone calls, but not respond to my text messages? Something just wasn’t adding up.
“Were you not able to charge it this morning, Angela? Where were you?”
“Yes, Toure. That’s the exact reason why we’re on the phone now.”
I hated it when she spoke to me as if I were mentally inferior.
“I know we wouldn’t be on the phone unless it was charged, Angela. I’m not an idiot.” I was beginning to believe that she just didn’t want to speak to me. No matter how you twist it, people ultimately make time for who and what they want to make time for. She obviously had no time for me lately. “But how about before then? Couldn’t you respond to me on your way to work, or as you were charging your phone? What were you doing this morning?”
“I was at Derrick’s apartment chilling before I had to come to work. That’s where I charged my phone. Any more questions?”
I paused before I said anything, because I didn’t want to come off as an asshole. I didn’t want to upset her and start an argument because we’d never resolve anything then. On the contrary, we weren’t doing a good job at solving anything right now, either.
I hated Derrick. Well, maybe not the actual person. I never met him. I hated what he did to my relationship with Angela. She seemed to always find time for him, but never found time to make me a priority. I didn’t know what it was about him that caught her attention- besides the fact that he worked at the same restaurant as her.
I took a deep breath before I proceeded.
“I’m not trying to bother or annoy you, Angela. I just don’t understand why you couldn’t just respond to my text message when you received it. It’s common courtesy. I’m here whenever you need me, and I’m just asking you for the same care and respect.“
“Okay, Toure. We can talk about this later. I really need to go clock in before I’m late.”
This conversation was the outcome of an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object. We were going nowhere fast.
“I don’t understand it, Angela! All I’m asking is for you to take my feelings into consideration!” I erupted. “You’re really acting like you’d rather go on without me! I mean, what difference would it make? We hardly talk anyway!”
“I’d just rather live without your constant bitching!” She snapped back.
“Bitching?” Her words tore through my ego. “So you’re calling me a bitch, now?”
“Take it as you please, Toure.”
“Fuck you!” I frantically scrambled for a rebuttal that would do the same damage.
I came up with nothing.
Hurting somebody that you loved wasn’t a simple task.
The next sound I heard was that of her dial tone.
Angela
I turned off my phone, placed it into my purse and exited the break room. I didn’t need any extra stress while I was on the job, and Toure’ was bringing more than enough of it. I was already in an irritable mood because of the expected Aunt Flow, and working while I was still tired wasn’t making anything easier.
I couldn’t understand how a man could be so sensitive and clingy. He needed to find a life- outside of me.
“Where am I this afternoon?” I asked my shift manager as I tied an apron around my waist.
“You won’t be anywhere until you erase that frown from your face!” She responded with a smirk. “Relax, girl. It’s a beautiful day!”
She was right.
Though cool outside, you could witness the frigid winter finally making its exit. The sun hung over the city longer than usual, illuminating the new bloom of this season’s seeds. Spring was near.
I wouldn’t consider Toure’ an actual problem from my past, but he was definitely becoming a predicament of my present. It seemed as if the romance we once shared was progressively dissipating from our relationship, and becoming replenished with animosity. Toure and I spoke every day, but it was as if we hardly communicated. We hardly held whole conversations these days- and whenever we did speak, an argument violently pushed the conversation to the side. There was constantly a reason to disagree when it came to our relationship, and I was growing weary.
Were relationships supposed to be this difficult?
Almost a year ago, Toure and I met in an English class. He became my tutor- if you consider him writing almost all of my essays as being a tutor. He was an aspiring journalist who was pursuing a degree in Communications. We began to hang out more and more, and over time I inevitably developed feelings for him. I fell in love with his mind. He had an amazing way with words, and was always so sweet and thoughtful toward me.
On the contrary, I always felt as if there were something missing. I still have no idea what this something may be, but I honestly didn’t believe that I’d be around much longer to figure it out.
There had to be something else.
Something better.
Better for me.
The manager pointed me toward my section where an attractive man sat alone playing with his iPhone.
He had to be waiting on somebody.
I painted on an imaginary smile as I approached the booth. On the table sat a single menu.
He’d be dining alone.
“Good afternoon!” I exclaimed. “My name is Angela, and I’ll be taking care of you today. Could I start you off with a beverage?”
“Good afternoon, Angela.” The man smiled at me and his beautiful straight, white teeth caught me off guard. “My name is Ryan, and I’d love a glass of water as I look over your sushi menu.”
I hope you enjoyed the 3rd chapter of my weekly short story series, Hump DAZE! If you happened to miss the 2nd installment- or just need to refresh your memory, CLICK HERE! Stay tuned for the 4th chapter next Wednesday!
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Bike Lanes in NYC
Thursday, June 16, 2011 by Team Greedmont | 2 Comments; | Category: Comedy, Culture, Politics, Video
I haven’t visited New York yet, but it’s good to know they are ticketing cats for not riding in the designated bike lanes. Is this necessary? I see it as a statement by the city saying, “If you aren’t going to buy gas, we’ll get your money by other means.”
The bike paths seems to promote a safer alternative to riding in the streets, but Casey Neistat does a great job showing how the lanes can also be more hazardous in a comedic way.
Capitalism.
Thursday, June 2, 2011 by Team Greedmont | No Comments | Category: Art, Career, Comedy, Culture, Entertainment, Illustration, Politics, Sex Love Money
A picture is worth a thousand words. ‘Nuff said.
Good Enough, Dammit!
Monday, May 23, 2011 by Team Greedmont | 6 Comments; | Category: Career, Culture, Daily Inspiration, Sex Love Money
I can remember very little about my years in high school. Other than playing team sports, teenage hormones, and art, it wasn’t a choice for me not to graduate. I didn’t quite understand how minimum wage worked, but I saw that fast food didn’t lead to wealth. And as a kid, there were a lot of things I wanted!
I’m unsure where, or when, I developed this early understanding of the socioeconomic status, but I just knew I wanted more. To get more, meant to graduate with a decent GPA and score well enough on the SATs to get into a college. I wasn’t sure what I would major in. I just wanted to live better and had an understanding that education would help me achieve my goals.
Penny or a Prayer. [Opinion]
Thursday, April 28, 2011 by Team Greedmont | No Comments | Category: Culture, Daily Inspiration, Sex Love Money
Thoughts often become premeditated actions. When written, they can often form plans. When spoken, they can become an opinion. In theory, that could conclude that thoughts can be transformed into a strong driving power. One that unites and moves a people. But an unspoken thought is merely a dream. (more…)
