You Can't Make This Stuff Up: Shenanigans & What Nots

Picture It

Omaha, Nebraska

199ish-2000

Interjection:

Apparently a lot of ish happened to me in Omaha in the late 90s 🤣, and to think, I lived there until the summer of 2002. how I got there is another story for another blog on another day. Rest assured, that story is also hilarious, because it was presmart phonee, and damn near pre-internet. So yes, there’s a story for that too. 🤦🏻‍♀️

But back to the club in Omaha. Again, I’m in my early thirties or so. At the time, I was working as a QA for a telemarketing firm during the day and taking classes at a community college at night. I was a single mom with two kids so the fact that I even had time to go out and have a drink is impressive to my old ass now. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Anywho, I’m in the club with my sisters Kay & Tina. At least I believe Tina was there, don’t get me to lyin, but if she wasn’t there, her uncontrollable laughter should be the soundtrack to this story.

Back to the club, I remember we had a table close to the door but with a full view of the bar. My memory is fuzzy so forgive me, but I believe I got up to get a drink and when I placed my order, a man behind me kinda chuckled, and said,

“Damn shawty, that’s a grown man drink.”

Now back then you could smoke in the club, and much to the chagrin of my Omaha fam, I smoked Newport 100s regularly. I mention this because when I heard the guy’s statement, I spun around and my lit cigarette came inches from his face. 😱.

Of course, I apologized profusely. The whole time I’m keepin an eye on my bartender hands, while watching this guy grin at me.

Now, I’m vertically challenged so even in heels & high hair, I stand 5’2” -tops, and the music was so loud in order to hear someone’s conversation one would have to shout in the other’s ear. Nevertheless, ol boy was leaning on the bar so he could still speak to me.

“Hey Shawty, where’s the mayonnaise?”

My confused expression made him chuckle.

All I kept thinking to myself was -mayonnaise? I believe this particular club made appetizers & wings, but I’m not sure if they have mayonnaise.

“Shit, I’m not even sure if the kitchen is open tonight.” I replied with a nervous smile and shrug.

The man looked even more confused, but he was really determined for me to answer his question. He took out his wallet to pay for my drink, got as close to my ear as he possibly could and enunciated for what I was sure was the first time in his life, bless his heart, when he asked…I lie to you not…

No, no shawty…where…yo…man…is?

🤭

Yes, that’s exactly what my face looked like after he asked that. Yes, he still paid for my drink. We actually sat at the bar for a few and chopped it up, or at least tried to over the music.

I understand it’s a club. I understand people come to clubs to dance so they have to hear the music, but it’s so not conducive for conversation. And ol boy, was determined to have a full- blown conversation with me. Not for nothin, he checked all my boxes even though he had on a blazer in a club and his forehead was shiny from sweat. He did pay for my drink,after all, so he followed me to my table and we sat down.

Come to find out, ol boy was from Alabama, and there was definitely an enunciation issue. I’m from New Jersey, and there was definitely a blunt sarcasm issue. So, we had a hard time understanding one another in this loud ass club.

No lie if I went into a club today, I prolly would sit in the corner and cry.

I guess I never answered his question, so he leaned in and sarcastically asked for mayonnaise again.

Taken by surprise, I spun around in my chair and my lit cigarette burnt him square in his cheek.

He still asked for my number & we dated for a minute, he was actually pretty awesome… but the language barrier proved to be too much…

If ya wanna know how it ended or if ya know old boy and he's still checkin my boxes...hit me up!