Long time everyone, but it’s me Nicholas Jeff and I’m back!
I don’t know about you, but when I’m tired, I’m drained and anti-social. The only person I’d wanna see is my woman. But if she ain’t there, I don’t wanna see anyone, no one. Maybe some family members, but even that’s a short list. However, it’s hard to be this way, when you live with a roommate. Even harder when he likes to party all night.
Like yesterday, I pulled up to my house, a two story, two bedroom condo, that I and my roommate Steven rent. I was so glad to get home so after having a typical day at work. Not familiar with my typical days at work? Click here. Anyhow, in the garage and parking lot outside the house were nine cars and Deftones and Metallica blasting. Two o’ clock in the morning—and Steven is blasting metal? I been busing since 10:30am with only a thirty minute break and that son of ’s having a party? I’m going to relax, be patient and be—polite and nicely ask them to leave. Tsk, grrr.
I walked in, marijuana smoke in the air, empty Grey Goose and Bud Light bottles throughout. About twenty people were inside, dancing, daze in a stoned, drunken haze, and Steven was no where in sight. People were sitting on top of chicken wings bones and crushed Cheez-Its on my couch—mind you my girl just cleaned yesterday. There was even some purple candy on the table—wait—that’s E. I know where he is.
Grabbing a bat and a plastic bag, I walked upstairs to Steven’s room, where, as I figured, his pale high yellow, black ass, with nappy dreads was smoking with some bony, pale faced chick. I beat Steven’s dresser with the bat, which took him a few seconds to realize I did so.
He stared at me like I was a kaleidoscope. “Sup dude. Whoa.”
“Look, I tired of coming house and you got some fake reggae stoner party going on. It’s almost three in the morning. I got to be at work in six hours. These people got to go or I’m throwing you and everyone out his house. Then you ain’t gonna live here no more.
He looked at Pale-Face as if I was speaking Japanese and she could translate. Then she asked me, “You need a blunt honey?”
“You know what? I’m not even going to argue today.” I shoveled her out the way. Then I grabbed him by the neck and the back pocket and threw him out the window. Pale Face started screaming, so I threw her out too.
I then stopped by my room, grabbed my shotgun, walked in the living room, screaming, “Get the hell out” and shot the stereo. As the stereo sparked and when to silence, the stoners ran like roaches.
Back upstairs, I heard Steven moaning about his leg hurting or something. I really didn’t care. I grabbed his bed, shoveled that out the window. Took his dressers, clothes in the closet, weed, shoes—threw it all out the window.
Ahh! Nice and quiet. Now to get a few hours of sleep before my girlfriend come pick me up and takes me to work. Good night now!
Authors bio is coming up shortly.
[...] Nicholas Jeff–Dammit, Not Today, Part 2 Over the next few hours, I was knocked out cold. I’m surprised the police didn’t come over. But then again, the neighbors really don’t get into other people affairs. This was probably the most anti-social neighborhood I ever lived in. Luckily, my beautiful girlfriend, Chante, woke me up. Good thing she had the key. I sure as hell wasn’t waking up on time. After I got out the shower, she complained about Steven having his party last night, ruining her cleaning. She restarted our daily argument about me not spending enough time with her because I was always at work. [...]
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