Dollars Make Sense.

Taylor’s.

Posted in introducing.. by Jason Mekkam on June 28, 2010

This is Taylor’s. We’re in a relationship.

Although, I’ll admit. Our relationship isn’t all that healthy.

I try to keep what we have on the very low. Shucks, some might even call me a douchebag for how I treat her. Lord knows I try to avoid her as much as possible.

“She’s hella tired,” I tell the homies. “She stays on that same shit, different day. Nothing changes with her. Always playin the same music/havin over the same people. Sure we’ve met up late night a couple times cuz I struck out landing that tease Rennie, but that’s old news. I’m off that. Trust. Taylors is wack. I ain’t never going back. Plus ya’ll know I can’t stand being around her when I’m sober.”

But then. Sure enough..

Thursday night. 12:23. This kick it session I’m kicking it at kicks rocks. But the party we just left wasn’t really any better. Bored. Anxious. Desperate. Semi-tipsy, my hip vibrates. Text message. Wipe my thumb across the screen. It reads:

“cme 2 taays. iss poppn!!!”

Fuck.

Im’ma get shit for this. I already told my dudes I’d never go back. But it’s getting late.. And I’m running out of options.. Shit. You know what? To hell with it.

17 min later. Like Lindsay Lohan to the rehab clinic. “What’s good Taylors?”. Deep down I do feel guilty for my dishonesty/using her like I do. So I do something about it..

“BARRRRTENNNDERRRR!”

A $2 Well is like guilt-be-gone in a cup. But one is not enough. I wants more. And more. And.. uh oh.

Beer goggles.

Suddenly Taylors is looking good. Damn. Fine even. Gone is the usual awkward smorgasbord of football players on that super swole, salacious chasers of the jerseys, swarms of sorority sisters, flocks of frat bros (icing bros), and hella randoms undoubtedly among some of Springfield’s finest.

Instead, it’s like a family reunion. All my amigos are here. My hella good homies. My just regular homies. The homies I say what’s up to but never kick it with. That girl my homie hooked up with freshman year in the dorms that one night he forgot to lock his door and we inadvertently barged in on them cuz we wanted to know if he’d be down to get a Cheesy Griller. All my loved ones! In one room! I’m havin a jolly good time. Poppin bubble wrap fun. I don’t wants it to end. I couldn’t ask for anything more. Well. Except for..

“BARRRRTENNNDERRRR!”

Yeeeeeee! But one is not enough. I wants more. And more. And.. uh oh.

Fade to black.

Morning. I open my eyes. My head hurts a lil. Getting up is a process. Luckily, that disoriented feeling fades. Soon I recognize.. my room. Success! But wait.. where’s my phone? And my wallet? Uh oh. Oh no! I jump outta bed. Boot up the MacBook. Log onto the BofA website. Check statement balance and..

$67.23??????? In one night????

GOD DAMNIT TAY TAYS!

That’s it. Fuck her. I ain’t never going back. For real this time. I mean it.

Well.. except on Wednesday. It’s my dude’s 21st. Plus it’s a dollar beers.

And you know I can never pass up a legit deal when I see one.

Mama ain’t raise no fools.

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4 Responses

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  1. Kariann said, on June 29, 2010 at 1:27 am

    Tay Tay’s and me have the same relationship. I hate her. Swear off of her.

    Yet when I’m there it’s like love at first sight and I’ve got my dance pants on.

  2. Omari said, on July 1, 2010 at 11:09 pm

    I thought Taylor’s was named after a guy. Having said that, I hate that nigga!!!

  3. […] home super late night from my on-again-off-again boo’s, I came across dude. Knocked. On some cement stairs no less. Concerned, I did what any decent […]

  4. The District. « Dollars Make Sense. said, on August 22, 2010 at 3:52 am

    […] Even more so than Taylor’s. […]


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