***before we get started today, i wanted to give a shout-out to the homie luvvie for spearheading the red pump project this week. all snark aside, that was some really good sh*t. ***

***flash back to the spring of 2003***

11:15: after some intense pre-gaming and skank ducking at arts, the champ and his crew of inebriated assh*les head to whiskey dicks, a fairly popular friday night spot in the burgh

11:30: just to confirm that they are in fact, inebriated assh*les, the champ and his crew of inebriated assh*les begin a three-man freestyle cypher while waiting in line, with each of us trying our hardest to find the most cleverly nasty way to incorporate “whiskey dicks” and “whiskey chicks” in a verse while simultaneously invoking disgust, amusement, appreciation, and intrigue from the women also in line. this tactic always works on wamo nights.

also, because we were listening to “diplomatic immunity” on the ride there, we each rhyme with a cadence eerily similar to juelz santana¹

11:47: the champ orders his customary two jack and cokes and does a solo walk through of the club, “taking attendance” because the champ doesn’t like surprises. the champ also doesn’t like guacamole, or racially ambiguous women. i’m not exactly sure how relevant any of this is, but i just thought i should share.

11:55: after the walk through, he orders two more jack and cokes, and chills at the bar. while doing this, the champ creates a scenario in his head where he’s the silent majority owner of the club, and then proceeds to lean back in his stool, slipping his jacks and watching the action with a detached air of subtle and self-righteous aristocratic bemusement. he stays in character for at least seven minutes².

12:01: the champ makes eye contact with chick who could easily pass for a lighter, hooder, version of nia long³. he approaches her. they introduce themselves (her name was “gee”).

they talk.

12:05: they talk some more.

12:10: they dance.

12:15: the champ takes the short break between songs as an opportunity to get gee’s number. the champ enjoys getting women’s numbers in the middle of packed dance floors, because it give him the opportunity to show everyone that he has a sidekick.

12:16: because of the noise level, the champ can’t really understand what she’s saying, so he hands her the phone to put her name and digits in herself. when finished, she hands the phone back to the champ, gives him a very nice hug, and goes back to chill with her girls.

12:18: before going to search for the rest of his crew of extremely inebriated assh*les, the champ glances in the phone to make sure she saved her info correctly, sess that “gee’s” full name was “gretchen”, and debates whether or not he was mentally, spiritually, and emotionally prepared to continue his life with a woman named “gretchen” in his address book.

12:20: sadly, the champ deletes the number.

ok, vsb…you’ve just read mine. now i want to hear yours. whats the shallowest, strangest, and most shamefully superficial reason you’ve ever had for dismissing a potential mate? we all got em, so no holier-than thouedness allowed today.

¹i’m at least 97 percent sure that i will regret admitting this publicly.
²the young champ was a strange drunk
³i realize that, with this description, i could have easily just said “she resembles pam from total“, but i wanted to find a way to incorporate nia long into vsb someday. congrats to me

—the champ