Bread of Life
Well I am sitting at work pissed like a MFR cause someone brought their trifling nosey, never do well ass in my office and messed up my damn heater. Had unplugged my stuff & turned the timer and ERY thang else! I know it wasn’t nobody but that Grandma Walton simple feeble minded bitter bark eating ass!! When she gets back to work on Friday I got something in store for that geriatric meddler. I’m gone slap 5lbs of black on her ass. Just wait.
I mean I already had a rough night before and to come in work to this foolishness is just beyond! That’s why I don’t go to the gym, ‘cause my week seems to go downhill from there. Against my better judgment I took my happy ass over to the company gym, put on my lil tight Trina-Miami-Hooker style workout pants and stood on the treadmill. I should’ve read the instructions first. I pressed the button for workout & speed and that shit nearly sent me backwards through the window, it was moving so fast!! Now yall know Ms G was not up for that. Of course there always has to be some ever so helpful YT on the next machine in these types of situation to offer advice and instruction. This was no exception. Lil Bean Pole Johnny Cakes decided to come over and “help” Ms G.
“What are your desired goals? I ask because I can set the right resistance and step zone which will allow you to maximize your body fat calorie burning potential and achieve the best results.” The long winded Johnny Cakes offered.
“My goal is to get on this MFR without messing up my knees and ankles and exercise my black ass in peace!” I haughtily replied. I was giving all the stereotypical busty big black woman I could pull out. Tyler Perry would be proud.
Obviously this YT’s mama raised him with some sense cause he took his lil pink ass back to his machine and left me alone. There was a brotha over on the weight bench looking at me sidewise like he was Jason Whitlock and I was the Grande Dame Marshall of the Black KKK. I could see him puffy his lips & chest with indignation and standing ready to deliver Ms G a set down.
I forestalled his impending doom by asking the question of life Auntie Black One taught me a long time ago “Have you ever had a good country ass whooping?” Honey that Nigra grabbed up his lil keys, ankle weights & sweat jacket and hit the door. Umm Umm umm. Just like I thought – the Whitlock kinds can talk a whole lotta junks on paper and camera. But put them suckers in front of the so called “ghetto” folks they talking bout & they will break camp for the plantation big house before massa can say “oranges & peanuts for Christmas.”
I laughed so hard at that fool I figured that constituted enough calories burned for the day. I got my stuff & headed for my car. I couldn’t wait to get home to my bed. But before I could crank the ignition good Lil G was blowing up my cell phone.
“Ma I’m hungry! Can you stop at the store and get some bread?” she wailed.
Now all the groceries I got stuffed in the frigidaire, the pantry, the cabinets, this lil heffa couldn’t find nothing to eat? I didn’t even bother to argue I just said ok whatever. I was so tired from my workout; Lord knows I did not want to stop.
Hemingway – Although there is a grocery store across the street from my house – Shoppers, nuff said – I typically drive down to a Giant a couple of miles away. But I was tired and said fluck it, I’ll take my chances at shoppers. The guy outside with the crooked sideburns trying to sell me some bootleg ass DVD’s should’ve been my first clue to turn around, but you know…. Anyway I go in the store. Get my bread. Head for the checkout lane. Put my stuff on the counter. Wait to be ringed. Easy right? NOT at shoppers.
It was apparent from the way she snatched my bread in the middle that my cashier was having a bad evening. I was about to point out to Laquisha Shanquae that she was mashing my soft wheat loaf, when she stopped ringing & answered her cell phone. Well that ghetto Michael Jackson the Wiz weave wearing hoochie Ho proceeded to have a conversation with her girl on the phone like I wasn’t E-Much there!!! I was pissed!!!
“Excuse me Miss, But would you mind not squishing my bread and cashing me out so I may exit your establishment?” I asked. Normally if you give the real proper I’m a nice educated person diction to a true ghetto gangster they’ll cut you some slack. I also give her my nicest ‘I’m superior so there’s no need to get upset with you’ smile. Well it was obvious Laquisha wasn’t in the mood for me at that moment.
“Rolonda Leyaza Fair, hold on let me ring this bum biach up ‘four I have to go off in this biach!” she exclaimed while rolling her eyes at me.
Now normally yall know I would have went off up in that joint & pulled out my blade. But one good look at Miss things arms & neck caused me to have a quick reflection on life. Bigmama ain’t raise no fool. Back in my younger days I would have tried her, but honey I ain’t as limber as I used to be. I was not about to roll around on the floor with a chick that looked like she’d been stacking bricks in east Baltimore. I politely paid for my lil squished up bread, thanked her & wished her a nice evening. Shit who gone feed Lil G if I get beat to a bloody pulp. Pick your battles people, pick your battles!
I mean I already had a rough night before and to come in work to this foolishness is just beyond! That’s why I don’t go to the gym, ‘cause my week seems to go downhill from there. Against my better judgment I took my happy ass over to the company gym, put on my lil tight Trina-Miami-Hooker style workout pants and stood on the treadmill. I should’ve read the instructions first. I pressed the button for workout & speed and that shit nearly sent me backwards through the window, it was moving so fast!! Now yall know Ms G was not up for that. Of course there always has to be some ever so helpful YT on the next machine in these types of situation to offer advice and instruction. This was no exception. Lil Bean Pole Johnny Cakes decided to come over and “help” Ms G.
“What are your desired goals? I ask because I can set the right resistance and step zone which will allow you to maximize your body fat calorie burning potential and achieve the best results.” The long winded Johnny Cakes offered.
“My goal is to get on this MFR without messing up my knees and ankles and exercise my black ass in peace!” I haughtily replied. I was giving all the stereotypical busty big black woman I could pull out. Tyler Perry would be proud.
Obviously this YT’s mama raised him with some sense cause he took his lil pink ass back to his machine and left me alone. There was a brotha over on the weight bench looking at me sidewise like he was Jason Whitlock and I was the Grande Dame Marshall of the Black KKK. I could see him puffy his lips & chest with indignation and standing ready to deliver Ms G a set down.
I forestalled his impending doom by asking the question of life Auntie Black One taught me a long time ago “Have you ever had a good country ass whooping?” Honey that Nigra grabbed up his lil keys, ankle weights & sweat jacket and hit the door. Umm Umm umm. Just like I thought – the Whitlock kinds can talk a whole lotta junks on paper and camera. But put them suckers in front of the so called “ghetto” folks they talking bout & they will break camp for the plantation big house before massa can say “oranges & peanuts for Christmas.”
I laughed so hard at that fool I figured that constituted enough calories burned for the day. I got my stuff & headed for my car. I couldn’t wait to get home to my bed. But before I could crank the ignition good Lil G was blowing up my cell phone.
“Ma I’m hungry! Can you stop at the store and get some bread?” she wailed.
Now all the groceries I got stuffed in the frigidaire, the pantry, the cabinets, this lil heffa couldn’t find nothing to eat? I didn’t even bother to argue I just said ok whatever. I was so tired from my workout; Lord knows I did not want to stop.
Hemingway – Although there is a grocery store across the street from my house – Shoppers, nuff said – I typically drive down to a Giant a couple of miles away. But I was tired and said fluck it, I’ll take my chances at shoppers. The guy outside with the crooked sideburns trying to sell me some bootleg ass DVD’s should’ve been my first clue to turn around, but you know…. Anyway I go in the store. Get my bread. Head for the checkout lane. Put my stuff on the counter. Wait to be ringed. Easy right? NOT at shoppers.
It was apparent from the way she snatched my bread in the middle that my cashier was having a bad evening. I was about to point out to Laquisha Shanquae that she was mashing my soft wheat loaf, when she stopped ringing & answered her cell phone. Well that ghetto Michael Jackson the Wiz weave wearing hoochie Ho proceeded to have a conversation with her girl on the phone like I wasn’t E-Much there!!! I was pissed!!!
“Excuse me Miss, But would you mind not squishing my bread and cashing me out so I may exit your establishment?” I asked. Normally if you give the real proper I’m a nice educated person diction to a true ghetto gangster they’ll cut you some slack. I also give her my nicest ‘I’m superior so there’s no need to get upset with you’ smile. Well it was obvious Laquisha wasn’t in the mood for me at that moment.
“Rolonda Leyaza Fair, hold on let me ring this bum biach up ‘four I have to go off in this biach!” she exclaimed while rolling her eyes at me.
Now normally yall know I would have went off up in that joint & pulled out my blade. But one good look at Miss things arms & neck caused me to have a quick reflection on life. Bigmama ain’t raise no fool. Back in my younger days I would have tried her, but honey I ain’t as limber as I used to be. I was not about to roll around on the floor with a chick that looked like she’d been stacking bricks in east Baltimore. I politely paid for my lil squished up bread, thanked her & wished her a nice evening. Shit who gone feed Lil G if I get beat to a bloody pulp. Pick your battles people, pick your battles!
posted by Ms G @ 4:38 AM
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