Throw your Hood Up: An evening with the Ratchets

As my roommate and I stepped out of the door at a quarter to 11pm. I was concerned with where the night would go. We had a good buzz going from sitting at home and watching the clipper game, so we were ready to step out and mingle. Inside the club we get drinks, we make the rounds, looking for any possible signs of interaction with the ladies. Very standard guy stuff.

Our first interaction occured approximately at 12:34a.m. when a young lady approached me and introduced herself. This is not a rare occurrence as I get approached often. Now that is not me bragging, but I honestly think people can sense how shy I am in these situations. I think it's got worse with age, because I used to be pretty good at taking the first step. But I digress.

She approaches me and engages in your standard introductory conversation and she introduces me to her friend, who honestly I am more attracted to and my first thought was she was coming to introduce me to her. As she talks to me her friend moves over, and almost as if blocked by a theater director, my roommate counters her and places himself on the opposite end of the conversation completing the circle. I introduce him, she introduces her, and now we have something going.

Now at this time my roommate is striking it off with the original girl and I am talking to her friend. What is interesting in this is that at the start of the conversation, I was the front man and he was the wingman, but as things progressed, the table was turn, and I became his wingman. I ran interference for him so that he could get the number and so on and so forth. Myself, not being so lucky, as the girl I was speaking to was not receptive to my attempts to swoon her.

Eventually we parted ways and continued our evening of fun. Now, let's get to the good part and to the point of tonight's blog. As last call was nearing, my roomie snatched up himself another girl. Now I don't like to categorize people, but this chick was no doubt a hood girl out in Hollywood, they are not hard to pick out. But they were pretty and nonetheless, my obligations as a wingman negated any reservations I may have had about the character of these two chicks.

Loosely dressed, one in a tight dress with the mid section showing, the other in spandex pants with cut outs and a silk blouse, we felt confident that if we fed them the right amount of liquor and smooth lines, that this could lead somewhere. It seems I pulled the short straw of the bunch because my girl was cold as ice. I would have needed a stealth missile to knock down the walls she was putting up. And I'm no slouch with the words, I have decent game. But she did not want to participate in the conversation at all.

So here I was with these two ratchet chicks in the middle of hollywood, trying to keep her busy while my roomie slobs down her friend. Now again, I do not like to categorize, but here is further evidence to my claim that these were hood rat chicks. The girl I was courting was driving a lime green 1992 Lexus with a back light out and the worse shocks I ever heard. I know this because they drove us back to our car, and as I moved all the clutter to get in the car, I was afraid we were sure to break down before arrival.

My roommate, not satisfied with the simple grinding and kissing he got, was determined to get the ultimate prize. I know this because while in the back of the car he text me, "I'm tracking to smash". Against my strongest feelings of the opposite route, we continued down this road of "hoodery". We went to a local Denny's to continue the evening and this is where things get interesting. First, as we get out the car, I notice the girl I'm courting has on clear heels and I can't help but think about what Chris Rock said in his stand up special , "Never Scared", about clear heels being the strippers uniform.

I must say, I wouldn't be shocked if they were strippers. But even then, I was still committed to playing my role. It wasn't until we got into the restaurant and sat down that I was completely determined to no longer go on as if I was into this. I noticed that the girl I was "courting", the one who had on the spandex with cut outs, had the hairiest legs I had ever seen. Like how are you going to wear spandex leggings with giant holes in them and not shave your legs?

The rest of the evening was a blur that ended up with us being home without them coming. We got in around 4:30am and as I lay in the bed frustrated, disgusted, and drunk, I came to one very clear realization. That while I may ride around sometimes listening to Young Jeezy, or I may dance to a 2 Chains song in the club, I in no way, not ever, want to be hood and or date a chick who is hood.When I was younger I thought I wanted a hood chick with the big butt, but that obviously was just a hip hop induced phase. If that's your style, more power to you, but you can keep that for you.


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