i got to work on time today. well, if 20 minutes late is on time. i hit the cubicle sack and open up my email while setting my coffee down and shoving my bag under the desk. i do it all in one efficient motion and dont even reflect on the routine until later tonight when i got home and started typing that second sentence. i quickly scan the subject headings. spam spam spam party invite spam reply reply spam reply spam party invite spam spam and i dont bother scrolling down to see what else because i am sure its nothing special.
i check my site meter looking for real black love because zaida told me it would be there but i dont see it. i notice that someone is spelunking my archives. i wonder if they'll find what they're looking for and take a sip of my coffee. three more emails drop in, the phone rings and the caller ID says its from chicago. i remember i have to write a release sheet for this album coming out overseas. an IM pops up on my desktop. i ignore it and pick up the phone and sigh and realize the day has begin.
i forgot to tell you something about that party saturday night. at one point doug, the other Dj i played with, has a heavy thumping dancehall vibe going. the crowd, who wasnt shy but took their time letting the liquor warm their veins, started shuffling their feet on the makeshift dancefloor that had been cleared out for their ease. after a while disco squawks were in the air and a loose soul clap was going. the crowd parted to form a human hallway and the walls began to dance down it. all faces beamed in the release. big girls shimmied, queens sashayed, sexy chicks did club tricks and everybody smiled and let it go. the entire room throbbed beneath the sweltering glare of the big red lights that hovered in the corners. i looked at doug and he looked at me and i smiled and turned to L-getty and clinked wine glasses. i forgot to tell you it was a good party.
i took care of the tedious task today, avoiding most conversation and keeping email correspondence to an economic two or three sentences per. i flirt with a girl over chat. i mail some shit out. i hold off on writing the release sheet because im nervous. im nervous it wont be good. that it will make this record fail. and that because of this i'll lose my taste for writing. i left half an hour early and took care of some school shit. i got a 40 oz on the way home.
i get home and i roll a spliff and crack my brew. the internet gets boring and im not in the mood for tv. i decide to post about the soul train line at saturdays party but get caught up watching thick latin chicks act slutty for 30 seconds at a time. i peruse the wires to distract my libido and maybe get some inspiration but nothing seems as interesting as a brazilian wax buy the pool. i light a cigarette and take a huge swig of my brew and think to myself fuck it, imma whoop that trick.