Had a great weekend in Florida. Lil bro graduated Magna Cum Laude, and should be heading to Grad school in the fall. I was SO proud of him! Watching him walk across that stage made me swell with pride.
But of course, it wouldn't have been a typical "Leon" weekend without some sort of fuckery and craziness occurring:
--The next time AirTran offers a non-stop ticket at a reasonable fare, I will take it! I wound up having to take Spirit Airlines, and while they got me to Tampa in one piece, I had to change planes in Ft. Lauderdale, which was a bit, um, out of the way, y'think? Matter of fact, I recognized the Tampa outskirts as we flew over them on my way to Ft. Loddy doddy.
--On the flight from Ft. Lauderdale to Tampa, it took us forever and a day to get situated because of the fact that Spirit Airlines charges $10 to check a bag, everyone and their momma was cramming their carry-ons on board. I was trying to get to my seat but two Paris Hilton wannabes were blocking the way of the aisle, cause they couldn't figure out where to stuff their bag. "Like Ohmigod, these bags are SO big!" Grrr...No, I wasn't going to help their ass either! There were so many people trying to stuff bags, that the flgiht attendant finally made people start checking their bags. More on that later...And then, yes, and then an obese passenger needed 2 seats to sit in, so that was another game of airline musical chairs. I think all this brou-haha actually took longer than the actual 45 minute flight.
--Dumbasses lost my luggage! The claims lady in Tampa claimed that "TSA was so busy" at Ft. Laderdale, so they probably left my luggage. My brother looses more luggage than anyone I know, and it looks like he's inherited that 'curse' to me! And there was a white guy in front of me who was pissed the fuck off because he was planning on proposing to his fiance who was picking him up that night. You know where he left the ring? In his carry-on that he had to check. Now how they lost luggage that was checked directly onto the plane is beyond me. To say he was mad was an understatement. He was threatening to sue them and run them into the ground and blasay blah. He ripped that lady a new one, and I figured that cursing her out wasn't going to get my luggage there any faster, but I was still pissed off. My mom and 'em were flying in from Mississippi the same night, so I went back upstairs greeting my mom, grandma, aunt, and cousins-whom I hadn't seen in about 5 months-with "Looks like I'll be wearing the same draws tomorrow!"
--Got my luggage the next day, thank God.
--My family from West Palm came up on Friday for the ceremony. Cousin Patti bought a deep-fryer and a Hot Dog cooker with her. Yes, a hot dog cooker, like the ones you see in the Gas station with the weiners rotating ad nauseum. And a ton of food. "I wasn't about to go all over this city lookin for no restaurant!" she said. We were staying at an Extended Stay Suites, so there are kitchenettes with stoves, so she came up ready to cook. Hey, free food!
--The ceremony was at the Sun Dome, and it was open seating, and while you weren't supposed to save seats, people were doing it anyway, including my family, who bestowed me with the honor of seat saving duty. The West Palm crew was a bit later than the Jacktown crew, so I was guarding those seats telling folks the seats were being saved, and there was another lady on my row that was saving 10 seats for her family. This woman comes up the stairs with her 2 kids and pretty much bogarded her way through the aisle.
Me: "I'm saving these seats right here. My family is coming right behind you [which was true, cause I saw them make their way through the arena]"
Lady: "Oh uh-UH! This is open seating! Excuse me!" and proceeded to balance herself on my shoulder as she wiggled her wide load down the aisle. She didn't seat in the seats I saved [My dad who was on the row behind me said, "Oh these, seats are GOING to be saved!" when she was making her spiel], but as she made her way down the row, the lady that was saving 10 seats was telling her she was saving seats to, and proceeded to block the aisle with her legs, which kept the rude lady's kids from coming through.
Kids: "Mama, she ain't lettin us through!"
Lady: "Oh hell no! This is OPEN seating, this ain't no $100 a ticket concert! Tell her EXCUSE ME!" and grabbed her kids arms and made them jump over the woman who was blocking the aisle.
The lady was so loud, that she was attracting attention all in our section of the arena.
Push pause...
Why, when black folks start acting loud and acting a fool, some white folks like to look at us like we know every damn black person on earth, and like we speak some special code to calm the angry black people down?
Back to our story...
By this time, the West Palm Posse was finally making their way, and I told them to go on and get situated, and my dad was briefly explaining the situation. Of course, my cousin was like, "I wish somebody would try and tell me to move right now. All these damn steps I had to climb to get up here! (We were way up there, noses bleeding) I shall not be moved!" Dad was still pissed off at the lady, "She teaching her kids that that kind of shit is okay! Ol' fat cow!" My black ass was turning red fo sho!
--After the ceremony, we took pictures and made our way to this Cuban restaurant my lil bro wanted to eat at. Well, my deep-south grandma wasn't too happy about that! I made the suggestion to get her some collard green soup, which was on the menu. "Boy, I don't eat no durn Collards!" Grandma snapped. We got her some Arroz Con Pollo, but she didn't like how the chicken was cooked.
--But when we got back to the hotel, the West Palm Posse had some food from my cousin's wife's brother's restaurant in Bartow. (They were kind of tired from the trip) Grandma was happy with the ribs, chicken, string beans, etc. that was set up.
--I thought my night might have been over, BUT certain friends and family members had other plans in mind. Yeah, someone had a burr up their ass to go see those busted ass strippers at the only "black" strip club in Tampa. And take my underage brother. Whom they let enter with my damn ID. That wasn't my gotdamn idea. My brother is frugal as hell, so the idea of throwing money at jiggling ass doesn't really appeal to him. He thought the women in there were ugly, and was counting bullet wounds and stretch marks. He was ready to go within a half-hour and go to Ybor City.
There is another story I could tell you about that happened in there, but it's pretty bad. Remember that movie, The Hitcher? With C. Thomas Howell and Jennifer Jason Leigh? Remember when C. Thomas Howell was in the diner eating fries and he picked up a finger instead? Well, I won't say the story is that bad, but it's bad.
--The next day, after a day at Clearwater beach, I come back to the hotel to the smell of frying fish all over the first floor. Yeah buddy, cousin Patti was cooking the hell outta that fish, setting off the smoke alarm to boot. And those wieners rotating on the cooker kilt my soul. Sister, my Great-Aunt opened the lid talmbout, "This is where you warm up the buns!" I was done I tell ya! My dad wants one for Father's Day now. I just might get it for him, although he can grill the hell outta some hot dogs though...
--I took my 11 and 14 year-old cousins to that Hip-Hop church that I told ya'll about before. Yeah, the one with the pastor that looks like Jon B. They seemed to get a kick out of it though. "I liked the beats, and that was cool to see the turntable on stage" the 14 year old said. "I liked the basketball court" the 11 year-old said.
--Had to take mom and grandma to the flea market. I was looking for some shorts and a T-shirt. One vendor saw me-we'll call her Bunny Swann-and said, "We only store in here with big man size! You need 3x? 4x? You buy now!" So I did.
All in all, a great time, but it's good to be back home. Although Tampa Bay was home for me for 2 years, I realized I didn't miss the place at ALL. I may be sitting in traffic all day in ATL, and there may be no beach nearby, but I can say I like it up here way better.