THE BBQ

I woke up to constant ringing of my house phone. I don’t know why I keep it on the highest volume and I figured whoever had the nerve to call this early on a Saturday had better be in a life or death situation. Turns out, it was even better! Barry was having a BBQ at his house. No doubt what my new plans had become for the day.

Considering Barry said the event should kick off somewhere around 2pm, I was confident that arriving at 4pm would get me there the same time as everyone else. Yet, for some reason, I was still one of the first to arrive. Sha-Donna and Cheryl were already there holding a conversation with Todd and Ralph. I wasn’t sure if they were still on the rebound after Greg got evaporated. Clarence, our resident Urban 30 genius says that Greg should be back after a few more rain falls.

Quickly unloading the case of Heineken I brought into the large barrel of ice, I moved over to the table to see what food had already been prepared. As far as I’m concerned, Barry is one of the strongest guys I know, the strongest in the Urban 30, but his strength is definitely outmatched by the flavor of his pork ribs and potato salad. Completely unreal!

By 6pm, nearly the entire Urban 30 was there. Of those who were missing, I had hoped Brice’s name would fall on that list. Instead, he showed up. Though not social with most of the other members, he was very into some conversation he was having with the two women he’d brought. I will admit, one of them was definitely a 9… and a half.

It wasn’t until Barry came over and asked me if I had spoken to Tomieka and Jada, that i realized they were missing. Perhaps I had already had too many beers. Apparently, they were both supposed to bring two rum cakes and jello shots. I thought maybe I should find out why they weren't there yet.

“Let me ask Terra…” I said to Barry.

Unfortunately, Terra hadn’t spoken to them either. By now, the back yard was laced with noisy superheroes, and a few non super spouses and none of them included Tomieka or Jada.

“Why don’t you just call them?” Terra said. Brilliant idea.

Just then... “Something’s wrong.” Brice, for the first time that evening, came over and spoke to me and Terra.

My phone rang as if it were cued by Brice's statement.

“Leroy, where the hell is everyone?” It was Jada. “I’ve called you, Terra, Barry, Brice and Tony. I’m at the hospital with Tomieka. She fainted and still hasn’t woke up. The doctors can’t figure out what is wrong with her. Somebody needs to get here.” It sounded as if Jada had been crying – something I’d never seen from her or Tomieka.

“What hospital?” I listened for a response before ending the call.

By now, Terra had silenced the entire crowd so that I could hear Jada. “Something’s wrong with Tomieka." I reported to Terra. "She won’t wake up. Bring Brice and Blake. Maybe one of them can go inside her head and find out what’s going on.” Terra nodded. Even though Brice was next to me, I spoke to Terra as if he weren't.

With that, I downed the last of my Heineken and lifted myself into flight.

“We will meet you there.” Terra said.

ANOTHER CHANGE

I think today may have been one of the better days I’ve had in a long time. Today, I got a message from Dispatch saying that Brice was put on special assignment and is no longer the team leader. Who could have asked for a better message – except if Brice was swallowed whole by Snuffles… Obviously Snuffles has finer tastes in food.

So, while I was doing cartwheels, elated that I wouldn’t have to see Brice’s face, Dispatch follows up with the note that ShaDonna was now the team leader. I couldn’t really believe it, considering she’d be off on maternity leave in a few more months. I couldn’t help but think that Dispatch has some hateration in him.

All in all, I thought it was a good enough reason to take in some drinks with the fellas – celebrating my new freedom from Brice. While Ean wasn’t returning calls, apparently he was really upset about getting drenched by giant sea-monster birthing fluids, I was able to reach Marc and Derek – a recent add on to the Urban 30. Time to get smashed!

I wonder if some folks would say I have a drinking problem?

SHOE SHINE GUY - TUESDAY

I woke up this morning to an Urban 30 emergency. Despite the fact we were all in teams, there were at least three teams on the scene, about fifteen or so heroes. At first we werent sure why Snuffles was out. But at thirty-seven feet of solid destruction, we needed to find out. Ultimately, we realized that she was pregnant - after she gave birth in the new Nationals ball park stadium. After that, Snuffles scooped up her knew baby with one of her seven arms and went back into the river. I'm so glad i wasnt apart of the clean up.

This whole thing, of course, made me about an hour late for work. Considering I was up since 4-something this morning, I felt like the day was already over. On my way in, I walked to the corner deli for a light breakfast – just two omelets, a waffle, some fruit and a large Apple Juice.

Headed back to the office, I heard that familiar whistle of a voice.

“What color were those shoes when you first got them.” It said.

I sneered toward the root. The old shoe shine man smiled at me, adjusting his trucker’s hat. This one read “I retired”.

“I can bring the color back!” He motioned for me to have a seat.

I wondered if anyone would miss him if I tossed him in the Anacostia as a snack for baby Snuffles. On second thought, he’d probably give him kidney stones or something.

“No shine today…” I replied as I went upstairs to eat my food.

SHOE SHINE GUY - MONDAY

Have you ever had one of those days where you are feeling real good about yourself and someone comes along and craps all over you? Well, today was that day for me. It all started when I woke up feeling fine. Not just fine, but great! I wore a new shirt and tie combo that had been in the closet for a while. I have to admit that I was feeling exceptionally professional. Even Edna, the ancient evil of our organization thought it was a great color on me.

Pretty much, I was convinced that I belonged in the pages of GQ magazine. That is, until I went out to lunch, joining some friends from the Urban 30. Somewhere between the entrance to the building and the curb of the first block was some make shift shoe shine set up that seemed to be manned by a different old fellow every other week.

As I walked by, thumbing the numbers on my phone to let Raz and Tam know I was just a few minutes away from the meeting spot I heard raspy squeal of a voice.

“It’s a shame your shoes aren’t as nice as your shirt!” The voice says.

“Excuse me?” I question as I look over to notice an unusually thin older man with a square patch for a mustache. He wore a trucker’s cap with the words I voted, on it.

“Let me make them shoes as new as that shirt…” He didn’t apologize for his insult.

Despite all of the mean things I thought to say, I just continued to walk forward. I met my friends and tried to pretend I had not been insulted. But I can’t lie, part of me wanted to fly the guy up in the air and drop him – catching him just before he hits the ground. Then I’d ask him if his “depends” was as new as my shoes.

ROCK STAR WEEKEND

This weekend turned out to be better than I expected. All except the chitterling lasagna that Aunt Clodine made for the family reunion bbq. I wish someone had warned me before I took a bite.

After meeting family I had not seen since I was 4 and a half, I went to catch up with some other friends and eat better food and play Rock Band. I’m great on lead, better on drums but I freakin rock on the microphone. I kept scoring a 98% on the difficult level. I owned that band! Well, I did till it was time to go home. But after all the drinking I had done, I relived the whole thing in my head untill I fell asleep.

The next night we decided to hit the bar, just before work tomorrow morning. This was the most drinking I had done in about two weeks – I think. The lounge had just recently opened, like so many in DC and I was already at home on the clean furniture. For some reason, I had completely missed the obvious karaoke machine in the front hear the dance floor. I sank into the couch, proud of my second Long Island Iced Tea debating if I would end my rock band career on a solo note.

As if to answer for me, Leah dropped a song guide in my lap. I guess that was my cue. My first song was just to get everyone excited Michael Jackson’s Beat It. I hadn’t danced like that in years. I started to sweat as if I had the jheri curl, too.

Embracing my third drink, I laughed through some dude singing Listen, an old lady who contended with a celine Dion tune and an Asian guy who thought he was a superstar. After that, it was time to be born again. I think my partner tried to “upstage” me?

Time to go home.