Saturday, July 05, 2008

Boy Looka Here.

FILE UNDER: A Moment of Clarity/Real Talk: The Alcoholics Anonymous Edition.


I try to catch myself. But I'm out of control.


There's this lawyer in my office from Oregon. He was all over March Madness this year. And there just happens to be some basketball player named Tauwan Petersen or some shit on Oregon's team. [I'm Tauwan Patterson] The lawyer was looking up some stats and wanted to refresh his memory with an image so he typed "Tauwan" into Google, and immediately erupted into laughter from his office. Alone. Cute to five minutes later. The printer goes off and a picture is slammed on my desk. It's the one presented above.

Damn.

That took me back...


Bowdoin College. Spring 2002. Senior Year. Friday night. February 23, 2008. Night two of my performance in Chekov's Talking Dog had been completed. I hadn't acted in a minute. Since elementary school to be exact. But Joan Sand wanted myself, and my dance partner in crime Jillian Grunnah to take this on. [Short 15 minute piece about two cats on a skydiving date. Midway through we would havethe sound of the sky play loduly as we "windsurfed"/got our modern and contemporary dance on. What it do Liberal Arts College?] The next day I would be turning 23 years young. Tonight, post show was about me and my boys: the Meddiebempsters. [3rd oldest a cappella group in the country STAND UP!] Tonight was going to be special, for tonight we would be playing EDWARD 40-HANDS! Okay, boy looka here. One, you do not wear button fly jeans on a night you are playing Edward 40-hands. And two, never come straight from the stage to a party where all you will be doing for the next four or so hours is drink Malt Liquor. The night, was a blur. And I was done. IT WAS A WRAP! So much so that for that final birthday night performance [in which all my peeps came, not knowing what to expect, HIGH] I was hugging the toilet 30 minutes to show time, AND OUR ACT WAS FIRST! Some how I made it through, and went on to have a kicking party in which I dj'd only to get it busted up at like 4 a.m. as my jam Can We by SWV was in full gear. Not cool school cops. Not cool. Whatever. At least I didn't have more malt liquor, cause from then on out I knew that he and I had to go our separate ways. Real talk.

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