Wanna know why I don't fuck with hood rats???
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For those of you who actually enjoy reading about what goes on in BP�s world, boy do I have an story for you�.. About once a month I actually go out to a party. I only go to this one particular party (which if you read often then you have heard me talk about it before) becuae of the atmosphere. There is not a bunch of young ass thugs trying to act a damn fool. The dress is upscale, meaning NO SNEAKERS, NO JERSEYS, NO BASEBALL CAPS, NO JEANS! And the dress code applies to both men and women. It�s so crucial that they have even stated that if you were a jean jacket, you must check your coat at the door. Now some of ya�ll may be like �damn they trippin with the dress code!� True they me going over board, but that is exactly why I love going to these parties. The dress code eliminates all the thugs and hood rats. I mean when�s the last time you seen a thug in some slacks?? And when�s the last time you seen a hood rat in something that looks nice?? Never?? Exactly the point of the upscale dress code. You have to dress up to get in and the dress code makes for lovely scenery. Aint nothing sexier than a man in a nice pair of slacks and a nice shirt. For the last two months I have missed �The List� parties. December I opted to go out on New Years and in January I was so tired from running around all day that I just did not have the energy to go out. But this Saturday I was planning on going. It took a lot of persuasion from Tiff to go because I was so tired. Tiff called me at 8:30 in the morning. Normally I would be awake not up, just awake but Friday night a couple of somebody�s (you know who you are) had me on the phone till hooker hours. I was looking forward to sleeping in on Saturday. And even though I told Tiff that I was still sleep she continued to talk to me and convinced me to go out to breakfast with her and out shopping. I know I�m a sucker. By the time we finished our running around, it was 6:00pm. I laid down to take a nap and at 7:30, Tiff calls me. I let the machine get it. When I finally got up at 9:00 I called Tiff. We made plans to meet at the party. We didn�t set a time but since she said she was almost ready I assumed it would not take her long. Wrong! I got to the party at 11:00 and waited for her to show up. She didn�t get there until 11:30. BTW�parties in Sac get shut down at 1:30 on the dot. I usually like to make my appearance at around 10:30 because that gives you plenty of time to get your drink, grab a seat and watch the eye candy trickle into the room. But fuckin with Tiff�.when she made it to the party she had Nasty Nat with her. Nat is a hood rat if ever I seen one and her attitude is as rocky as the California Coastline. Sometimes she is cool and other times she is a straight bitch. Usually Nat does not come to the List party. She came once with Tiff and I was so embarrassed to even have her around me and my other friends. She was unbelievable rude and you could tell that she was not having a good time. Nat is not used to upscale parties. All she could keep saying was �this is not my type of crowd�. Nat and Tiff�s favorite hang out is a little hole in the wall. The first time I went with them there I almost threw up. I thought I was in Hood rat heaven. Then I looked around and realized that I was really in Hoodlum hell. All the pimps in Sac were in there with there hookers. It was disgusting. I have not stepped foot into that place since then and refused to allow myself to ever go back. Tiff and Nat love the place. The way they frequent the joint you would think they were giving away free money. The place has no dress code at all. Basically you could walk up in there with nothing on and you will get in. Tiff and Nat love it cause it�s about the only place they can were jeans in Sac and Nat can wear her hoochified fits up in there. And since they are such regulars, they know just about all the servers, bartenders, and security as well as the other patrons. Maybe that�s why they go, because everybody knows their name. Or at least they know Nat�s name. Saturday Nat seemed to be in a decent mood. Since all traces of attitude were stripped from her face she actually looked nice. But the minute she stepped out the car I knew there was trouble. The bitch had on JEANS! I told her as soon as I saw her that she was not going to get in. Nat may have got in with jeans last time she came, but the rules have changed. And Tiff knows that. Tiff gets the e-mails so she knows the dress code. Sure enough we get to the door and they tell Nat she aint getting in. I can�t even begin to tell you how mad I was. I wanted to go to the party so bad because I was watching all the cuties going in while we are standing at the door waiting for the party promoter to come and decide whether or not to let Nat in.
And did I mention how cute I looked? I had on a new top that I bought at that big ass mall in Philly and some new sandals (inspired by these �thanks Mia), some new crop pants and a new purse to match my new top. I even tried something new with my makeup and it turned out so pretty. I wasted a perfectly good outfit to stand at the door and have three people come and tell Nat she wasn�t getting in. This is why I don�t fuck with hoodrats! |
10:26 a.m. || March 01, 2004 |
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