بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

AS-SALAAMU ‘ALAIKUM MA BEAUTIFUL AND BELOVED BLACK BEBIES!!!

So yesterday was a straight trip.

I got up early and was going to go to a laundromat to dry my garment that I had hand washed the day before but ended up posting on a stoop and it was unusually hot yesterday, so I decided to just lay my clothes out on the stoop and let them air dry.

I sat there for about four hours just listening to music and then decided to go to the masjid.

It was Friday and I knew they were having Jummuah, but I didn’t have anywhere else to go. (Everything was closed for Black Friday). So, I went and just stayed in the Ladies’ Room. I wasn’t expecting so many Sisters. There were about eight in total who came in. But I knew the last one (an old goat hypocrite) would be a problem.

I had my laptop plugged in and was writing and facebooking and whatnot and then I heard them making Salat. I still didn’t go out. I was going to leave but I was listening to the Messenger (Peace Be Upon Him) and he was almost finished, so I figured I would just wait.

Next thing I know, all these Sisters are coming back in the Ladies’ Room, probably to see what I was doing. I talked to one who didn’t have her head covered. And the youngies seemed particularly interested in me with my garments and everything.

But, I like being alone, so I packed up.

And just as I was leaving, the hypocrite poked her head in to see if I was still there.

So, I was and I left.

I went and bought some coffee ice cream and was going to eat it on the stoop I was on earlier.

But I had noticed across the street an empty garage and it was off the street, so I went in there instead. I had already hidden my stuff in there before I went to the masjid, so I just made myself at home and dubbed it THE PRINCESS PAVILLION 2.

So, I thoroughly enjoyed my ice cream, found an outlet, plugged in and started listening to Raheem, just coolin’ out, writing and thoroughly enjoying myself.

Next thing I know, this homeless lady comes in talking about she lives there and I would have to leave.

I was like, “Not no more, you don’t. I live here now.“

So, I just ignore her and keep on writing, not even looking up.

Then she comes tapping me on my foot talking about she was going to call the police. Getting all up in my face.

I was like, “Yeah, right, you live in a garage and you’re going to call the police to make ME leave, GTFOH.”

So, she gets on the phone acting like she was calling the police, telling them I was dressed like a Nun and whatnot and had my electronic equipment plugged up.

Then she comes and yanks my charger out the outlet and I was pissed off but I thought that was kinda bold and decided not to plug it back in.

I think she would’ve hit me.

And I didn’t feel like fighting.

So, I just kept on writing and basically ignoring her, while she’s screaming I have to leave, the police are coming, this is her house, blah, blah, blah.

Then she sees my stuff I had hidden up high and she starts trying to take it down. I just watch her, while I’m steadily writing.

She gets it down and I thought she put it in the garbage bin outside.

But, I had seen this Jehovah’s Witness dig in the garbage after I threw away some literature he had just given me, so I figured I would just do the same thing.

So, I’m still ignoring her and another lady comes by and she starts calling me all kinds of Bs and crazy to her. And I still don’t budge.

But THEN, this big grown man comes in and I’m not afraid to fight two women, but I am not about to try and whoop a full grown man, so he tells me he’s the owner and I’m like, “Yeah, right, whatever, you’re homeless too.” But nevertheless, I was not trying to get a black eye, so I started packing up, talking smack the entire time.

I asked him what’s his name. He told me but I forgot what it was.

Then he asked me my name.

I said it was none of his business.

Then he starts getting mad talking about he’s used to dealing with crazy people and he can be crazy too.

Before that he said I couldn’t “squat” there.

I said I wasn’t squatting.

He said what are you doing?

I said I’m just sitting here.

So, when I wouldn’t tell him my name, he got all in his feelings talking about he was trying to be polite.

I said, you’re kicking me out, that’s not polite.

Then he started showing me he could be crazy too and charged at me, reaching down grabbing the empty bag my ice cream was in and acting like he was going to attack me, yelling and everything.

So, I really started hurrying up and got the hell outta there.

So, much for PRINCESS PAVILLION NO. 2

Turns out she did live there because after I left she went through this door I couldn’t open and went upstairs to an apartment upstairs and he went through the gate in front to this humungous plantation looking like house.

So, I went back to the stoop and tried to play it off even though everybody was looking at me. LOL

So, then I figured since I didn’t have anywhere to go, I would go back to the masjid until they kick me out after Isha.

But when I went in the muezzin told me they told him not to let me in. I asked why. He said he didn’t know.

But I know it’s because I don’t believe like them. And they think it’s their masjidun.

But it really it Allah’s.

They’ll see.

So, I sat on the stoop outside the masjid and plotted my next move.

A few minutes later, the light came on and the muezzin poked his head out and motioned towards me. I knew he was only going to tell me to leave, so I acted like I couldn’t hear him. I had on my headphones. And he went back inside.

I figured I better “posse up” and find another stoop.

So, I started on my way and soon came upon another PRINCESS PAVILLION and spent a cold, interesting night there.

It was even better than PRINCESS PAVILLION NO. 1 because it was quiet and less traffic.

I had a wonderful dream wherein my soulmate officially made me his wife.

Up until then, I had just been saying he was my husband (zawji) or soulmate.

I NEVER said I was his wife.

But in my dream he stamped, “YOU ARE MY WIFE!!!” ON MY HEART AND MIND.

SO NOW I FEEL LIKE IT’S OFFICIAL.

LIKE I CAN’T TALK TO ANYBODY ELSE BECAUSE I AM HIS WIFE NOW.

So, right before dawn, he woke me up and I looked up and saw a beautiful crescent moon, like a sign.

So, I left before everybody woke up and went to where I had stashed some of my stuff.

I was sitting on a stoop, just enjoying the beautiful morning and the aftermath of my dream, when this young Brother comes out of his house and asks if I’m alright. I said, “yahh” like they say in NOLA.

So then he comes over to rap and we talked for a good two hours.

Then I started feeling “rooted.” He liked talking about Voodou. So, I took that as my cue to leave. I had planned to go to the library and it was almost time to open, so I went an got Lulu. I had parked her in front of the front door of the masjid, blocking the entrance.  I was mad.

So, I went to get her basket and ran into the lady who walked up on me and the “homeless” woman from PRINCESS PAVILLION NO. 2 and she pointed out some vacant houses I could take up residence in. I really appreciate that because it’s beautiful but COLD in the PRINCESS PAVILLIONS.

So, me an Lulu push to the Library. I was going to go to CLEO’s, and they are supposed to be open 24 hours but this is the second time I went and they were closed.

So, I just went to the library and it looked like they were open, so I parked Lulu and went up to the door, but they weren’t open yet. Ten more minutes.

But ten minutes can seem like an eternity while you’re waiting for something to open up, so I decided to walk to the gas station and get some coffee.

I walked past Subway, grudgingly, since they banned me.

Picked up somebody’s New York Times and saw another car with Southern University Jaguars flags on the windows and it hit me that today is the Bayou Classic.

So, you know my husband went to Southern and I couldn’t help but remember how vivid my dream was and wonder if he could be in town.

❤ ❤ ❤

So, I went to the gas station and was going to get hot chocolate but they had some mint mocha coffee that sounded pretty good and Zawji (my husband) told me I needed it. So, I got some and went to the register.

There was a Brother ahead of me and I always give Brothers the opportunity to pay for my purchases, so I asked him if he wanted to pay for my coffee and he told the cashier to add it to his bill.

Al Hamdulillah!

Sisters, real men enjoy spending money on us. We are the reason they go to work. A man who doesn’t have anyone to help him spend his money has a void in his life. One Brother told me he loves taking women shopping. He said frankly, “it makes his dick hard.”

I hope that doesn’t mean he expects sex because sex before marriage is a sin.

So, I went and sat where me an Keyvon sat the other day and drank my coffee and saw yet another Jaguars car. I drank my coffee and looked at the headlines on the NYT. The main story was about Venezuela and I’m only interested in America. So, I figured it wasn’t worth reading.

Lately, newspapers have been leaving me hanging. The New Orleans Advocate used to be really good, but the last time I read it it was about half the original size and the stories were fluff.

I used to be a really big print media reader, but they are so banal now. Even the ones with concert listings seem to just be about where to buy alcohol or homosexual or pork restaurants. So, I haven’t been picking them up at all lately.

Raheem has a song with Trombone Shorty that is good. But his solo is dry. Corey Henry is better. I was thinking about going to catch his show next week. If I can remember where. Let me Google it. BRB

Okay, so I couldn’t find his weekly show but came up on a fundraiser he’s organizing today. I don’t have the suggested dub but I can give what I can.

So, Zawji, if you’re in town, I won’t be trying to sneak into the Classic Bayou, I’ll be in the Treme’

HOLLA IF YOU HEAR ME

❤ ❤ ❤