Gas & IHOP

Hello family. I know you have missed me but Ms G has had a rough weekend. Monday was a much needed recuperation day. What happened you ask? Where should I begin my tale of woe? My downhill descent on the slippery slope started Thursday evening. All I wanted was a tank of gas & a $7 car wash. That’s usually how the world’s greatest catastrophes begin, with something simple.

Y’all know where the BP is on Ritchie road right? I went down there, filled my gas tank & bought the ultimate wash. As I’m pulling up to the carwash, Kimora Lee Simmons wannabe pulls off from the vacuum machine towards the wash as well. Now you know Ms G made it first. This high brow heifer pulls right up on my ass. I punch in my code & drive in the wash. She does the same & drives close to the wash entrance after me. Well you know those machines ain’t worth but $2 anyway & this causes a problem. The stop & go lights flash at the same time. Of course this pisses me off.

I try backing up but Kimora just sits there.
“Biach get your simple ass out of the way. Don’t you see me tryna to back up? If I have to get out this damn car……” I yell.

Needless to say, shiny lip x-wife of geriatric Russell gets her ass out of my way. Forget the picture; a look is worth a thousand words. I go into the store where I find El Amine & Cusa-Shareef behind the counter. There’s a kid with black lips buying blunts whom I want to tell that’s the last thing he needs cause I can smell his breath from where I’m standing. But Bigmama ain’t raise no fool. Some folks you can’t fuck with.

“The carwash is broken”

“Yes, it’s broken yes” El Amine states smiling & shaking his head.

“No, I mean it’s not working, broke, won’t wash”

“Yes, yes. Broken thank you” he replies with a bright skittles smile.

Seeing my frustration, Blunt lips turns to me & says –with a serious face- “Ya know they slow ma.” Then he turns to El Amine & shouts “That MFR shit is broke dammit! Yall need to fix it!”

I smile my thanks to Blunt Boy & he politely replies that it was “no problem shorty.” I tell Amine I want my money back. At the mention money Cusa-Shareef perks up & says no money back he will fix. I tell him I don’t have all damn night & I want my $7. He ignores me and proceeds to go out & bang on the buttons for the next 20 minutes. At this point I tell him give me my $7 or I’ma carry $7 worth of shit out the store. Honey that cousin of a Negro got that machine fixed with a smile in under 30 seconds.

I call Lady Carabana to tell her of my experience. For some reason she always likes to hear about Ms G going through trials & tribulations. She laughs until she cries & wets her pants. I don’t think the shit be that funny myself.

Hemingway – She decides she & Little Carabana will take me out for lunch. We figure we’d hit the new IHOP on Central Ave. After all it’s only been open a month so it can’t be ghettoized just yet. Right? WRONG!!!! Honey I don’t know who was worse, the customers or the workers.

The weaves were atrocious! The outfits downright Source Awards shameful and the service ….. well I am at a lost. We saw our waiter twice. When he took the order & brought the check. I thought Lil Carabana was gone choke to death from need of a refill. We sat behind Diana Ross after what was obviously release from a bad stint in rehab. That hookers weave was so broke down it was standing up. I mean just straight nappy. It didn’t move, shake, blow- nothing. When she moved, the weave moved.

Honey, Loqueashawn the crack-head replica was working in that joint with orange & black braids. I’m sure she changes them for each holiday theme. I can’t wait to go back & see her at Christmas. Tyrone the tooth killer was in there with his kids. Now that nigga know damn well zigzag teeth does not a fashion statement make. He thought he was cute too. Just kept smiling.

There was Miss Brenda of course guiding all the younger workers in what is proper & correct work etiquette. Telling them how to get customers straight, ‘cause everybody knows “you don’t try Miss Brenda, cause I’ll cuss they asses out.” I wish someone would have cussed her out before she left the house without a bra. I’m sure those saddlebags will get caught in the pancake machine one of these days.

Just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore out pop’s one of Lady Carabana’s skeletons. Lord Jesus on the Cross!!! Mr. Versace was in there working. Had a lil chef’s hat & all! Dreds down to his shoulders – I can only imagine what all dropped in our foods as I didn’t notice a hair net. Of course he tried to fake like he didn’t know us but Carabana called him out. Umm ummm maybe he was embarrassed. I thought he looked cute in the lil Pie chef hat. I wouldn’t take him home to Mama, but……? To top it off he didn’t even offer to pay for our food!!!!

After I finish this report to you all I shall write a letter to the corporate office of IHOP. Although from the looks of the little greasy white manager whose face clearly asked “Why did I get stuck in niggerville?” I’m sure they are aware of the state of this new establishment.