Big Booty Ho (Kanye West) aka A Bronx Tale

Yesterday I delivered a singing telegram in the Bronx. It was one of those where it was such a disaster it was classic. I embarked on my adventure and Bruce called me cause it was a last minute thing. Anyway, I got to the Bronx and the client had given me the wrong train stop. So I asked a local who barely spoke English and directed me to the correct train stop.I got there and took a cab to third avenue. I thought I would finally be at Applebees. Oh no, I had gotten the wrong address too. Maybe in a haste my boss had copied it down wrong. Or maybe the client had given it wrong. Either way I was in middle Earth, it was getting cold, and my day was sucking supremely.

Well I called Applebees and instead of being 3750 it was 4752, which kind of put me in another area of the Bronx entirely. I kept trying to hail a lime green cab but those assweeds kept passing me. Since it was rush hour, the buses were crowded and there was no way I was getting on, especially since every damn woman in the world had a freaking stroller and kid she probably couldnt afford hanging off of her. I thought fuck me, fuck my life, fuck my bad decisions. It was too late now though. I kept walking and figured this was the end of the eventfulness. The telegram would go well, right?

Oh no. I got to Applebees after a half hour walking. I felt like Moses and the Jews wandering the ancient desert for 40 years. I called the client. This was the correct Applebees. While I was so tired I could have died, I had a show to do. I got there and the manager was quick to help me get changed. The population of this Applebees was mostly black and Spanish. Some of the folks were scared as hell of the pink gorilla, where some waved and got their kids to wave. I was in the Bronx. This was a different planet.

Anyway, I went to sing to the birthday boy. The population at the table was kind of rachet hood, but they were good people and wanted to have fun. I started to do my thing rapping to the birthday boy, and a second later a manger comes over. This is how the first exchange went:

Manager: She can't do that here.

Client: I got clearance from the manager.

Manager: I am the manager. She can't do the telegram in that suit.

Client: I talked to the other manager, the pregnant one. She said it was okay.

So the manager walks off. The client instructs me to continue. I decide as long as Applebees is going to harass me, I am going all out. So I started rapping to "Big Booty Ho" by Kanye. While insulting the birthday boy was turning 21. Our table and the surrounding tables joined in as we sang this rap anthem that is incredibly insulting to women but fun as hell. So as we are having a good time this West Indian security dude comes over and he should have had asshole tattooed on the middle of his forehead. He walks over with his ethnically ambiguous Applebees employee climbing up the ranks. This is how this exchange went

Security Guard: Excuse me, Miss, you have to leave.

Me: Okay.

Client: She is a singing telegram. I have permission to have her here.

Security Guard: What?

Client: Yes. Now continue.

I sang Happy Birthday and decided it was best to get the fuck outta Dodge. While the client was supposed to tip me I also didn't want to end this adventure in handcuffs. So I finished my skit and was on my way out. Just then the client called me back in.

Client: I wanna give you a little something. You did a good job.

The client's family member, who by the way is missing a very important tooth near the front of his mouth hands me a twenty.

Security Guard walks over. This man is not going to lose and he is taking his job way too seriously.

Security Guard: I know you are trying to help her but she has to go. Come on, Miss.

Client: No, I was giving her a little something. She is a singing telegram. I ordered her.

Security Guard: She needs to go.

And what happened next would shock us all. Yes, she even wagged her finger hood style.

Client: LISTEN MUTHERFUCKER, I ORDERED THIS!  Yeah, that;s right. I paid for this! I paid for this with my money, mutherfucker!  And here you were all up in our shit when we had permission from the manager to do this. Oh, and you fucking ruined my video!!!

The Security Guard: I'm sorry.

Client: You better be, mutherfucker. I am so mad I could cut you.

Security Guard: There will be no need for that m'am

That is when she lifted her hands and I saw the biggest pair of Edward Scissorhands hood nails. The security guard, asshole on a power trip, was now afraid he was going to be sliced to shreds. This table perhaps had a weapon or two on them, but those nails seemed to be the most effective one of all. And who would have thought this would all occur at Applebees. That is when I waved, ran out, and jumped on the Metro North which was right there. Yeah, it ate up a few bucks. But it got me to Grand Central and I figured I had enough adventure for one day.

I say at the end of every shitty adventure there are not tears but punchlines. This was pure comedic gold. Note to self, come back in the next life as a West Indian dude just so I can say nasty shit with a cool accent. Or better note to self, come back as a rachet black lady and that way people will take me seriously when I threaten to cut them.

Either way, I am thinking of putting this one in the sequel.

Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
www.aprilbrucker.com

Return of Ross: Dead Beat Daddy. A Must Read

Yes he did try to return. This is the text conversation bad grammar and all word for word. Remember this is a twenty nine year old loser.

Ross:I know your probly still mad @ me & that’s ok. I feel bad about how we left off & I don’t want 2 lose u as a friend. What I want to say is; I’m sorry.

Me: The only thing you are sorry about is getting caught. You are a liar and nothing you says has any validity or credibility. You have shown me who you are and now I know to believe you. I am sorry I trusted you and let you into my life. You are a snake who misrepresents himself and preys on vulnerable women. I’m sorry I didn’t know better. Now slick back your hair, strap your kiddies that you don’t acknowledge to your back, and find your next victim. You are a deadbeat and your lines won’t work here Buster. Don’t even try you grammatical and syntax nightmare.

Ross: Even if u don’t 4give me I’m alrite wit that. I wish nothing but the best 4 u and I apologize

Me: Well you should. I didn’t do anything wrong. Unfortunately your children’s mother isn’t as smart as I am. And then again I am even stupider for giving a spelling nightmare like yourself the time of day. Please tell your male support group your side of the street is clean. However they neglected to tell you that much like a magic spell, an amends must be sincere in order to work.

Ross: I am sincere,I wish, I could tell you face to face, so you know how I really feel…..

At that moment I decided I had to stop the retardation. This was like kicking a crippled puppy, at a certain point the ass beating is so severe that it isn’t even fair to continue. But this was so comical that this deadbeat reprobate thought these would be the words to win by heart and finally get in my panties. Go pay child support and stop pumping out babies you deadbeat piece of trash!

Tales of the Dead Beat Daddy

For the past month things have been crazy at Casa Brucker. I had an attempted comeback of an ex fiancé, my house burglarized and other bizarre things happen in a span of six weeks. One was getting involved with someone I will call Ross. Ross isn’t his real name, but he shares the same first name as one of the men who appear on one of the many dollar bills this broke ass nation has but my mind does draw a blank on the denomination.

Anyway Ross was my polar opposite. While I had graduated from NYU Ross had taken his GED and was currently working as a mechanic. My parents had been rather strict wanting me to study and wanting the best for my future. Ross’s folks on the other hand were rather absentee drug addicts. Nonetheless he was smart, easy to talk to, and the shoulder that I cried on when things ended with the celebrity. Ross was a welcome change from the celebrity too. Unlike the celebrity he treated me like a lady when we went out, didn’t humiliate me in swanky joints and hell, he even sent me a text once when I claimed I looked like road kill that on a scale of one to ten I was a twenty.

My first time truly hanging out with Ross was magical in a way. We had coffee at Starbucks. I said all I wanted was for a boy to buy me a Pumpkin Spiced Latte and Ross informed me that he was a genie and I could get two more wishes. He also said he didn’t think I would be as cool as I was. The first time he met me I was giving a female friend hard and fast advice on a guy and it was slanted as a bit anti-male. Then again, most men view advice by someone who is brutally honest not slanted in their direction as anti-male so I didn’t take it personally. But I was rather relieved that he didn’t think I was a battleaxe.  We also bonded over the fact that he supposedly lost the love of his life to a heroin overdose, and I lost Roger and Joe, two friends who meant a lot to me, to drugs as well.

I later went to finish my soon to be released song at the house of Liz Taylor’s grandson in law. Ross sent me a text to make sure I got there safely. Then he sent me a text telling me he had a question for me. I wanted to know, what was the million dollar question. He called me when I got home and asked me out.

Ross took me to see Rum Diaries because I revealed to him I was getting ready to publish a book. This excited Ross that he was out with a smart girl. He said he didn’t mind me being smart because I knew things about books and literature and he knew all about cars. I know nothing about cars. Hell I don’t even drive. Living in Manhattan has been my get out of jail free card for sometime. People who could fix things have always fascinated me, having a skill I lack. To me smart and stupid are dangerous labels because that is an intelligence all of it’s own.

But to Ross it was cool I was “smart” and knew all about history. Most guys consider that a turn off. The celeb that I dated thought it was cool. Then again he had studied to be a rabbi. The quasi boyfriend I had before that had no feelings either way about my intelligence or lack thereof at times. After all, there are occasions when I turn my brain off and do something completely and utterly stupid, and yes my behavior does deserve the label in those instances. My last boyfriend was very book smart and was proud of the fact I was a reader. However one of us could tell the truth and the other couldn’t which ruins all relationships. And then their was my fiancé, who had a complex over the fact that I went to college, NYU of all places. Although I went for artistic endeavors, my course load was still very academic in nature. Whenever my fiancé got something right and I didn’t he lorded over me the fact that he never went to college and was still smarter than me. My fiancé was such a master manipulator that eventually I became convinced men didn’t like smart women and just shut my brain off.

For sometime I went out of my way to act stupid turning my brain off completely. I dated the worst guys and had friends who were abysmal, complete with being over the age of twenty five and having a pop music ring tone sort of. The stupider I acted the more it seemed they liked me. Gone was the ten year old who read Wuthering Heights and basically had a college reading level in the fourth grade. Temporarily in a coma was the Geography Bee qualifier. But then as time went on my last boyfriend wanted the brain and I didn’t want to give it to him because why? I was scared he would shut me down for even having one. Then here comes Ross, the mechanic with the slicked back hair who probably spent more time in front of the mirror than I did who thinks it’s the most extraordinary thing in the world that I read and know useless historical information. Although I was not looking for a boyfriend this was heartwarming.

As a result I found myself opening up to this mistake. Sure he was wrong for me but define right. I dated a celebrity who was well known, well educated, smart and got his jollies off of saying rotten things but still appreciated the fact I was a reader. Before that was a semi-celebrity who was clingy, obsessive and needy as well as self centered. Of course there was the lawyer, the other lawyer, and the millionaire who all looked good on paper but were rotten liars that were married to money and status. Oh and then the ex fiancé who offered to kill his mother to get the insurance money to be with me. Compared to all of them Ross was a treat and regularly told me how beautiful I looked. Plus unlike the much older celeb he had the potential of libido. Above all things he was easy to talk to and didn’t judge me. Plus I had friends who talked well of him. Right away I trusted him. Maybe he wasn’t going to be a boyfriend and he vocalized that he didn’t want a girlfriend but I didn’t mind having a good friend I could talk to.

When we hung out Ross and I recounted the mistakes we made in our lives and he opened right up to me about the chaos that used to be his. That’s when he said that for as chaotic as his life got he could say one thing for himself and that was that he had no children. I laughed. I thought good thing. The celeb had been a dead beat daddy with a very ugly paternity suit and a Baby Mama who had harassed me repeatedly during our brief courtship. Plus I have dated men with children. You always have to meet the miscreants who are poisoned against you by Baby Mama. Either way this was a relief.

Being a lawyer’s daughter I googled Ross to see if anything came up. Sure enough his dead dad’s obit did. Ross had been close to his father and cared for him in the last year of his life as he battled cancer. In the obit it mentioned two grandchildren who were unnamed. At that moment it hit me that Ross had two kids he lied about not having. Then I thought, “Nah, maybe they are his brother or sister’s kids.” Ross had a younger brother as well as a sister who was deceased. Plus Ross seemed like an honest guy. So far he hadn’t lied about anything. He didn’t have a facebook either he said. Plus he seemed so trustworthy and all our mutual friends agreed he was.

After my house was burglarized and some other drama I reconnected with Ross after some stuff had happened that was rather complicated. Ross and I sort of reunited and somehow the subject of children came up again. That’s when he suddenly mentioned he had two. I told him he said he didn’t have any. He said when I asked he changed the subject which I know wasn’t true because I was there and remembered the convo. Nonetheless he mentioned he had the kids with a sweetheart when he was young and she moved them to Florida with her folks. He also said it was a painful subject for him because he married her and tried to work it out but they were young and drama happened. Ross had also gone through a few rough patches of his own so perhaps it was better the kids were with their grandparents. Ross showed me photos of his girl and boy who were adorable and mentioned his daughter had high functioning autism but was doing well and was in cheerleading and that his son was a gear head like his dad. I asked if he and Baby Mama were on good terms and he said that now that they weren’t together they were actually friends. He mentioned wanting to visit his kids but not being able to. I appreciated the honesty and thought that perhaps he had hidden this because he mentioned his last girl had issues with the fact he had kiddies.

The next time Ross and I hung out I brought up his fib about his children and he again tried to dig himself out of the grave he already created by informing me he remembered the conversation and I said illegitimate children. Meanwhile one kid was born before Ross and Miss Lady went to City Hall to get married so that technically is a child out of wedlock. Nonetheless I figured maybe he thought I would shut him down. So Ross mentioned he had a facebook where he kept track of his children and looked at their photos. Meanwhile this was someone who said he wasn’t on facebook. So Ross friended me.

Being a lawyer’s daughter I decided to check out his ex/Baby Mama. While she didn’t seem like she was swinging from the Genius Tree, she seemed like she was trying the best she could with what she had to be the best mother she could be. In her bio she mentioned she was “the cliche teen mother to the cliche teen father who turned out to be the cliche deadbeat father.” My mouth dropped open. Sure this woman might have been bitter she didn’t get what she wanted. Nonetheless I had also encountered Ross, who claimed he didn’t have children, then suddenly did, that he was on good terms with his kids mother and suddenly he wasn’t. The liar ball was now in his court and it was making me ill that I even gave him the time of day.

To make matters worse I went on her myspace and saw she had written a blog about Ross and how he had not seen his son since the child was one. And now his son was asking questions and that Ross had been such a deadbeat that the son’s grandparents lied and said that he had died in Iraq fighting for his country just to get the asshole out of the picture. Oh and then suddenly when the kid was six Ross decides that his progeny mean something and that they aren’t just lines on the family tree and suddenly sent presents. Sure maybe his kid’s mother was a great many things but she was the more responsible parent. She had been forced to grow up right quick and end her partying days while Ross could take his time, sleep til noon and ride his skateboard all he wanted. The fact that he had sired two children and furthermore was a deadbeat not only made me sick as an activist for women’s rights but sick as a woman myself. Not to mention if he had concealed these two children how many more was Senor Not Worth My Spit hiding? Worse yet, he felt no guilt or remorse about not telling the truth therefore what else had he lied about? What else was he hiding? How many other ways could he possibly hurt me?

I found myself exploding on facebook and Ross texted me, misspelling as usual telling me not to believe everything I read. Meanwhile I knew he had lied so I was more inclined to believe the woman who’s life he had ruined. I basically let him have it via text and then when I saw Ross blocked me on facebook before I could block him I had to laugh. Either way it was hard to believe someone I trusted could turn out to be so untrustworthy. I didn’t have an issue with the fact he had children. I had an issue with the fact he lied about children and lied about everything else.

Last night he sent me this text accusing me of giving out his number because apparently someone was making harassing calls his way. Despite what he thinks it wasn’t me. It was probably someone else he pissed off along the way of his idiot adventures. But looking back he wasn’t who I thought he was. He saw me as someone who worked a lot, was very lonely, and had been hurt a lot by men. Therefore, being the sewer dweller and belly crawler that he was Ross moved in on this and used it to his advantage. He knew I needed comfort and basically used it as a way to move in for the kill. He ruined one woman’s life by strapping her with two children he is not financially responsible for and doesn’t care about. He probably stuck the needle in his arm that killed his dead girlfriend, that is, if this woman is not some made up story to worm his way into my life. Either way, thank God for the internet or else perhaps I would have signed on to be the next victim of a life ruining, child making, paternity denying Johnny Appleseed.

Looking back the novelty of Ross was wearing off. He wasn’t a reader and wouldn’t have fit in to my world of intellectuals, social climbers, celebrities and those who love politics and current events. He was at the bottom of the bell curve and perhaps the lowest common denominator. For a wrinkle in time I thought I could ride this merry-go-round and for an instant it was fun. Now it’s time to return to Earth. I am not angry because what’s the use? I am not sad because I have been down this road and find myself rather fluent in lying man. Actually disappointed is the word. I expected him to screw up and knew he had baggage but I didn’t expect a pile of wreckage dung his high and his smelly. Not to mention I gave him my trust and friendship and he lied to me. I have had a good year with so many knives in my back I lost count. Now he just stuck another one in, and this was someone I trusted. But then one must remember in the book of Genesis Adam and Eve trusted The Serpent and we all know how that turned out.

But perhaps Ross, who I consider most abhorrent not only because he is a deadbeat but a liar, had his purpose in my world. He got me to be “smart” again. He got me to “use my brain.” More than anything he was proud of me for going to a top notch university, reading, writing a book and doing the things I did with puppets. Perhaps he was helping me return to the old April, the one who was fun and dorky and a little awkward.

Hey, it’s a positive I have to remember as I do the more adult thing of deleting his texts rather than verbally lambasting this child creating anti-responsible Maury Povich bound dickhead giving him a piece of my mind. Love, April