Them bones.

Let me tell ya’ll, last weekend crazy like Eddie Murphy before he went soft and startin makin family film.

Cuz last weekend was suppost to be the best day of the year aside from the family reunion but it end up bein like the twilight zone. See, I was playin’ in the 15th All Annual Cecil Jenkins Memorial Dominoes Tournament. Defending champion since last year. Shit, I fling those bones faster than a meat grinda baby. So about a month ago I call up my friend Oscar Lopez. He really nice for bein hispanic and all. Anyhow, I call up Oscar and he say that he was gonna come for sure and partner with me when the day came. Been lookin forward to this for a long while cuz you know Otis loves to gloat and about 10 month of gloatin’ is all I can take before I gotta practice again for the next tournament.

So you know, been steady practicin with the grandkids when they come visit even if they don’t wanna play. Tryin to tell me dominoes is old fashioned hell if they had that ‘Dominoes Hero’ on the 360 those youngsters would jump all over it and burn up my television. All in all tho, I got all the practice I need and Saturday rolls around. I get up out of bed early for once just excited like a motherfucker cus “like we always do at this time I go for mine, I got to shine now throw yo’ hands up in the skyyyyieeee. . That’s for all you young folk out there readin this so you know Otis still understand pop culture. Kanye ain’t as good as Otis Redding (hell we share a name I gots to appreciate that) but he got some good jams out there.

So yeah, I get up and have me a good breakfast cuz I know if this anything like last year the food at the community center gonna be awful. The Womans Auxelarry make the dinner and they always seem to fuck it up. Last year they made a potato salad but no meat. Ain’t no black man on this earth love potato salad enough to eat it without meat. Well, cept cousin Charles, but he always been a little on the slow side.

Pick up the phone, time to call Oscar and see if he ready because he don’t like to drive much anymore on account of his not havin a license and gettin’ arrested three times last year. He pick up the phone and it’s not even him on the line. It’s Naomi. Gawd I hate that trick hoe. She say Oscar runnin to the sto’ and he gonna return my call when he get back. I don’t got time to wait around on Oscar. He will come thru so I put on my felt hat, throw some Old Spice on my neck and jet out that door. Drivin’ is nice this time of year, specially when you don’t got an AC unit that works.

So I roll up to the center, my Al Green casette blarin lettin’ those cats know “Let’s get it on” cuz Otis came to win. Step out on the sidewalk and my jitterbug stars a rattlin. Yeah, yall can hate on Otis for havin the old man phone but I know how to work it and nobody wanna go and steal it so it work. Oscar on the line with some bad news, news that I wasnt prepared for. He say he can’t come on account of his granddaughter is havin that party they do when she turn 15 and all. This ain’t good yall. Now I don’t got a partner for partners, but yall know, this my time to shine so I don’t fret, just walk in the Walt Johnson center all smooth.

Oh lawd there were tables from the door to the wall and back. Sounds of spinners a slammin, domino a yellin, bones a shufflin, ivory a knockin.. music to my ear. It like an orgasm of gamin’ up at the Walt today. Double-6 Double-9 Double-12 Double-16 Double-18, more Pips in there than Aretha Franklin could dream of. Oh man and every game you could think of too. They had Cut Throat, they had the Muggins, (them what I call the criminal games) they had the 42 which a partner game like playin Spades with cards. Otis might play that too. Got the big long tables with Mexican Train and my game of choice, Chickenfoot. This year they invest in signs tellin you what game they playin at the table, and that’s a good idea. Last year Alphonso sat down to play what he thought was plain ole Double-6 and it turn out to be Jamacian rules and he end up losin on a win streak cus the Womans Auxelarry too cheap to make signs.

So I am makin’ my stroll around the center, wavin at people, holla atcha boy, this Otis the king of domino. Mingle with everyone for a while and then serious business time come up. Gotta find me a partner for the late games, cus thats when the tournament kick off, about 2PM and I know that if I sit down to play my Chickenfoot that I will lose track of time.

If yall don’t know what chickenfoot is or what these domino games I talk about is, I hit up the googles and found this link so yall can learn.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Category:Domino_games

Walkin around greetin people again, but now with a purpose. I know it ain’t gonna be hard cus everybody love a winner and everybody wanna win ans gettin a partner otta be simple. After about 20 minutes I find out that aint the case. Woody partnerin with Curtis, Alphonso partnerin with Lamar, and Waldo partnerin with his wife, Emma. All my friends tied down. So I decide to go ask some of the ladies if they wanna play. Even tho ladies aren’t good at dominoes. This a sceintific fact. They tell me that there’s a box for unpartnered players to put thier name in and when the tournament roll around that they are gonna do a draw and match us up. Ain’t the best circumstances but I do it anyhow.

In the meantime I sat down at Chickenfoot. Callin chickie chickie chickie like I am holla at the women outside. Doin good. Steady winnin. Move on to the 42 and I get good hand after good hand. Just throwin down. This too easy, Otis needs a challenge. But first, Otis hungry. About noon now and I smell what the Auxelarry cookin up. Smell good for once. Walk up to the lunch line and wait my turn. Closer I get I see that they cheap ass caterin lunch. Herb’s dogs deluxe. Oh this gonna be good. Just droolin like a dog with rabies when I get there. Get my chilli dog with extra onion and cheese. Can’t wait to eat this. Then I slide my tray down the table to the concession where the drinks at.

What the fuck? They ain’t got no sweet tea? Them damn diabetics always ruinin everybody good time cus they too lazy to eat right. Stirrin that sorry ass “Shur Fine” sugar into my tea and you know it ain’t dissolvin cus the tea already cold so I got this bitter ass tea with syrup at the bottom of it. People behind me bein boogie tellin me to slide my tray down to the dessert line. Now this where the Womans Auxelarry screw everything up like they destined to do. No cake. No puddin. Nothin but that nasty ass green jello mold with the fruit floatin in the middle of it like some sort of alien comin’ out to kill Sugorny Weaver. Shit taste like listerine and green ass nyquil, the kind that you dont even sip when you sick as hell cuz it taste like death and you dont wanna invite the reaper ya know what i mean? Ain’t no way in hell I am puttin that on my plate.

So I go sit down at the table and eat on my chili dog but this sorry ass tea ain’t doin shit for me. Thankfully, I came prepared. Sneak out the door when nobody lookin and reach into my backseat. Got a cooler just full of ice and high life waitin. Twist me off a cap and get me a good drink. Now I don’t wanna drink too much cus I gotta keep my wits if I wanna win. Right when I am turnin around to go back inside tho, you ain’t gonna beleive who I seen.

Motherfuckin Reginald Harrison. This man gonna be the death of me. I hate the way he talk, the way he act, even the way he smell. He call himself “Reggie” because he thinks hes suave and shit, but if I ever met a Reginald, it be Reginald Harrison. He walk up like we buddy buddy talkin bout “Why Brother Otis, what a suprize to see you here!” What this nigga on about, he know I come every year. I ain’t got time for this so I go back inside.

Leveta she in charge of the ladies bad cookin club Auxalarry whatever the hell that mean, bang on the table and say “Everyone, be quiet. I got an annoucement” and she say that it’s time to begin the partners tournament and will all partner assemble and then she gonna draw names out the box. I start payin attention now, because this important. RIGHT before Leveta call though, that sorry nigga Reginald put his name in the box. Oh hell no. Anybody but him. There’s gotta be alot of names in that box right? She start callin names and most of the room partnered now. Just me, Reginald, Cliff, and Wanda. Please let it be Cliff. Hell, I would even take Wanda, even tho she a lady. What did those sorry bastards do? Put me with Reginald. They wanna make me, the don mega of dominoes partner with that house nigga? He come up in the rec hall wearin a damn bowtie. Nigga, this dominoes, you ain’t the dealer at the Bellagio.

This some heavy bullshit. I was about to just walk out on this shit until Leveta announce this year gonna be special, theres gonna be a cash prize of $35 dollar EACH to the winning team. So you know I gotta stay because Otis know that 35 dollar means free beer.

So we sit down at the table and Reginald already gettin on my nerves. Just the way he shuffle the bones make me wanna smack the taste out his mouth. All femenin and shit, shufflin slow as molassas. He finally gets the boneyard set up and we all draw. I got a good hand, deuce deuce always make a good score. What the fuck Reginald do? Put out a double-zero. All them niggas on the other team jump on this and play a blank 5 and already rackin up the points. Reginald must not know how we do, how we play domino. Then he get onto me because the grown people food I ate start makin’ me break wind. Reginald say he never eat the chili dog and that he had something call a keeshe for lunch. What the fuck is that? Reginald gotta be one of them homosexual because he say it like a baked salad. Black folk don’t eat salad in the first place, and you know damn well we never bake our food.

I bout had enough and I gotta go outside and smoke me a cigarette but they got rules against takin breaks in the tournament so I say I gotta go visit the gentlemens room and I would be right back. Wait till they stop lookin and step out on the sidewalk and light up. Take me a drag, blow it out. This ain’t strong enough if I gotta deal with Reginald motherfuckin Harrison for 2 more hours. So I reach in the back seat and drink me a high life. Still aint cuttin it and they know that even if I was goin to drop a bomb in the mens room that I should be done by now so I go back inside and sit down. This time we get a good deal and we are up ahead until again, motherfuckin Reginald drops the deuce-5 down and he cant even score on it. Three plays ago he coulda got us 15 points with that shit but he play it so the total 17. This nigga failed math or some shit.

I gotta go to the restroom again so they think. Go back outside, smoke me another cigarette and drink me two beer this time. Go back inside and more of the same. Win some, Reginald fuck up some. Bout this time the beer kickin in and I really gotta go to the restroom now so I ask pardon and excuse myself. Oh but the other team say I “impeeding the flow of the game” and they dont wanna let me go till we finish this round.

Legs a shakin, face a squintin, I gotta piss like a horse now. My knees just twitchin and sho nuff they hit the table and flip everyone dominoes over. They don’t get mad tho they just say “Well Otis, you really gotta go to the mens room go.” I can’t sneak outside for a beer this time because I have to go… or can I? Shit, I go outside for another beer and piss on the side of the road when nobody comin by. Little did I know that this the exact time they goin on break. Reginald walk his sorry ass outside, light up his cigarette. Sorry motherfucker don’t even smoke good brand, he smoke Salem. More reason for me to think he a batty boi. Anyhow, he stroll up to me and ask if I got a lighter. I give him mine so he go away but then Reginald say to me “Now Brother Otis, you know this is a church function and you aren’t supposed to be drinking beer”. Fuck Reginald. I walk across the street and drink the beer in someone else property just to spite the uppity bastard.

Time to go back inside. Oh, we doin good now, this a MINT game of dominoes. Ahead by 55 on the cards with 2 hands to go. $35 dollar, here I come. But I gotta piss again. Twitchin yet again. I tell them boys on the other team that I got a prostrate problem but then Reginald open his big mouth and say “Naw, Otis goin outside and drinkin beer”. Who walks by? Leveta.

Now they wanna tell me that I am “In bad standing with the Lawd” right now. Whatevea. So this the last hand now and we set to bring bank back to the Washburn Throne. Get my bones, gotta hit the boneyard some this round but I keep pullin up spinnas left and right like Xzibit on trick my ride ya heard? Then the shit hit the fan. I got the perfect bone to lay down to finish this off and I tell Reginald now don’t play on that one there cus I got this here that gonna give us 20 and he say he got a blank and know what to do. MOTHERFUCKIN HOUSE NIGGA PLAY IT FACIN THE WRONG DIRECTION so now we don’t get no points and I can’t run a train off it.

We end up losin, I end up berating Reginald, and Leveta tell me that I gotta go home and next year not to bring my drunk ass to the center. So I am in my ride crusin’ home and Oscar call to ask me how it went. I tell him and he say that they got plenty of food and drink at his place and to swing by so I do even tho my mood ain’t too stable because I don’t feel like cookin. So we eat up the barbacoa, drink his beer call Tecate, it ain’t bad and I get drunk and full and I just start talkin out my ass but his wife don’t care at all. She even say I can sleep in the living room until the mornin.

That’s one thing about those hispanic ladies.. they know how to treat a man. Not like Leveta, and sure not like motherfucking Reginald Harrison.

Bologna and Crackers

How are all of yall this mornin? I’m aight, just wanted to tell a story before my show comes on (The Price is Right) even though I don’t like that new white boy that hosts it, that fat guy with them child molesta glasses damn he about as funny as the police knockin’ on my screen door to tell me that somebody was sleepin’ in the front yard again. Ain’t shit wrong with sleepin’ in the front yard, it gets hawt as hell up in this ol’ house until I can get my paper and buy a new window unit.

Anyhow, this story about when Otis was young and stupid. Now he just old and stupid and dont even got all his teeth no mo’.

Back in the 1970s, I slang dope. Nothin’ hard, just that reefer. Louis Armstrong smoked it and that means it’s fine with me. Got Satchmo playin’ right now. Smooth sounds… what a wonderful worlldddddd. Wait, what was I even talkin about I forgot what in the hell I was even gonna say.

Oh yeah, the reefer. Yeah, Otis here used to run an appliance repair store called Otis’ mechanical repair. Not makin no money. Wish I still had that store now, could sell scrap copper for lots of greenbacks. Anyway, I ran my store and made enough money to put down my payment on my ride and buy some groceries. One day these crazy white folks came in and they never came to Otis store because they had white people places that worked on Maytag and thats what white people owned. Us black folks owned White-Westinghouse appliences which make me laugh. Big ass tan fridge with seafoam green oven and sometimes youd see a pink fridge if a homosexual owned it. I don’t be missin those one bit let me tell ya.

So these white boys came in and asked me if I knew where to score. I thought they were wantin’ to go play the numbers so I told them how the game work and who to call but they say “Naw pops, we want that grass”.  Now see, Otis ran a respectable business and didn’t know how they heard about the special special. I used to fix some people fridges ‘condenser coils’ when they brought it in but what that mean is I put a big  sack up inside the freezer and send it back to em.

But I needed the money for my ride.. oh my ride was slick like dishsoap. I rode in a honey brown Lincoln Continental Mark III, 2 door coupe engine roarin like your belly after a hog maw. So I told them boys to just come by my house later because I didn’t have any on me. Didn’t think them boys would show up because my hood was rough and tumble like that but they showed up fo’ sho. I already loaded up my pipe, Count Basie, and I told them come on sit down now.

So we lit that up and they pay me for it but say they got the munchies. I ain’t never heard of the munchies. They say the reefer make them want to eat so I tell them I got bologna in the fridge but don’t touch the government cheese and they could have a slice if they went to the corner store and bought me a beer. Gotta have my Miller High Life. So they said OK but this one white boy say he not gonna ride in the car cuz his stomach be upset. They was gone for a while, I was sittin in the Washburn Throne watchin the Match Game and I forgot all about that one white boy sittin at the dinette.

Bout 30 minutes later the rest of the hippies showed back up with my beer and I told them ‘thats fine now go get some meat and get the hell outta my house’ because I already got a call from Brother Hewitt askin’ me if the law was talkin to me because he saw the white boy at the dinette thru the windah. So them hippies yell to me “There isn’t any bologna pops” and I tell them “The fuck there is, there betta be, I went to the sto for some yesterday”. So I goes in the kitchen and that white boy that stayed ate up ALL MY BOLOGNA, and he broke into my cheese, AND he decide to get the can opener after my green beans and potted meat.

This was the first and the last time I ever smoked the reefer with white boys.

When I pass, ima haunt your ass.

So I was just taking it easy today, waiting on new episodes of Judge Mathis to start September 9th and my sistas child decides to come knockin at my door.  I yelled “Stop beatin on the screen door!” and let her in. She didn’t know nothin, just wanted to stop by and make fun of my wicker chair again.
See, I got this big big white wicker chair that I always be sittin in while I drink a beer or watch the game, big ole chair too. I call it the Washburn Throne, cuz I am the king of the household. Anyhow, Briannah her name, Briannah say “How long you been havin that chair? It’s old school and not good old school, its old school like gettin whippins in the principals office”. I tell the child to shut her mouth and she keep on naggin me and naggin me, tellin me that when I pass that shes gonna throw that chair out cuz nobody in the family wants it. I finally had it up to here with her uppity ass and I told her that if she even think about touchin the Washburn Throne i’d haunt her ass like the headless horseman.

Conversation sorta went like this

(Warning: This is where Otis types like he talks.. what do they call it? I call it real people talkin and you can’t hear my voice when you read my words so this is what I do.)

She say “Whatchu gonna do when you haunt me, you gonna make me starch that sweaty ass felt fedora you like wearin’ out to cookouts?”

I says to her “Oh, I sho’ is. Then you gonna go down to the corner sto’ and pick me up a Mega Millions ticket, a pack of Newport Box Hundreds; make sho’ they tha hundreds cuz i dont smoke them shawt cigarets, an’ when ya’ coming BACK from tha sto’, you gonna go drop this here package off at Sista Jenkins house. She gonna give ya anotha package, and you gonna drop THAT one off at Cecil Holman park till a nigga named Caribou Lou come up. No, that ain’t his real name his real name Javon.. now you see why he refer to himself as Caribou. Anyhow, he gonna come up and wanna give you fiddy$ fo it but I know that boy since he was a toddler so tell him “Naw nigga, jus thirty-five”. BUT… YO ashy, nappy ass gotta go make me the other fittenn dollas foe you come back in my house.”

She asked why would I be slingin in the afterlife so I tells her “Cuz I need dis money to bleach tha wikka ya heard me? Yo’ wish it was 1986 so I still looked in fashion Jheri Curl ass done bumped up agaisnt it and now the Washburn Throne is stained up.”

Then she got the nerve to call me an old bastard so I tell her “Girl,  don’t get lippy round me or I’ll slap the taste outcha mouth, now go get me a cold one, one of them ponys (For those of you not in the know, a Pony is a stub bottle of Miller High Life”.

She just call me boogie and leave. Good. Now I can watch TV.

So that’s my life. I don’t work much these days and I deal with my idiot kinfolks. Next time I will tell yall a story about my younger days.