Before I head back to New York for another summer (details soon), I’m back home in Houston to relax, not hurt my father, try really hard to not hurt my father, drive my brother’s car and pray there’s nothing in the car that will get me arrested, tell my niece she’s the most beautiful girl in the world over and over again, listen to my mom say “know what I’m saying?” and ask her if she’s been hanging around my brother too long, eating at Pappadeaux’s, not hurting my father, and catching up with old friends that don’t have records.
But, if there’s one thing you do in Houston, it’s go to the club. On Wednesday’s it’s the Roxy.
Gold teeth everywhere. Not many people particularly dressed up. Pretty much a if I dress my jeans up enough I bet they won’t even notice I’m wearing house shoes sort of affair.
They had Dallas rappers there. *shudders* MC Gray or something. I don’t know. I’m not that interested. He did some dance called the guitar.
Now extend your left arm out, then take your right and pretend to be strumming a guitar like you’re a seven year old emulating a rock band for the first time. Then move your right leg a little, do your step. You can even walk with it like you’re actually on stage somewhere. That’s the guitar. Creative I know. And I can do it all by myself. Take that, snap dance.
Now of course even though I’m mocking it I sure did it at the club. I wish I could say I was a little inebriated, but that would be a lie. I’ll probably do that stupid little dance tomorrow at 8:45 in the morning, then maybe around 2:15 in the afternoon, and certainly at 10:30 en route to the club because I don’t know any better.
Back to the gold teeth. I don’t mind grill, but wow, not really my scene anymore. It’s cool and all, but you know, I can’t do that all the time. That’s kinda too much like…umm..life.
I will give my people credit, though. It wasn’t any of us acting the fool last nite. Random white people found their way into the Roxy. I thought they stopped frequenting the place in the late 90s. Apparently not.
As ignorant as this sounds, I was happy to know it was someone not black getting arrested for being an idiot last nite. Some random blond, clearly influenced by Lindsay Lohan, dipped her face in powder before she entered the club. You know how people stage dive? Well, this club doesn’t have a mosh pit. You’re at club blasting bounce, H-Town music, and Young Jeezy. Do you really think someone is going to carry you in their arms while they do the ratchet? I turn around and I see a blond hit the floor…hard. I’m thinking they pushed her down. No. The high dropkicked her to the floor. What does the blond crackshell do? She gets up and gives it another go. Straight.to.the.floor. Ouch. Then she wipes her nose (surprise) and lifts her shirt to flash people. She’s then arrested by HPD.
She beat out the retarded old man in his Sunday’s best from 1983 who kept moving his pelvis back and forth with his two hands in the “Gimmie some” position to every song played hour after hour. Nothing like a “spechul” man to make you want to put that drink down..well after you gulp it down. No sense in wasting money.
All and all, a fun nite was had. It will probably the only nite I spend there for a long time, but it was cool for a Wednesday. Nothing like dancing around with one of the very reasons you left Houston in the first place. Now it’s time for M Bar and Visions where I can see people inspired by the superficialities of Los Angeles dance to the exact same tunes.