Monday, June 1, 2020

drinkdrankdrunk: "Women Of Color" by The Midnight Rider

per the cashpoint faculty handbook, one of my responsibilities as a faculty member was “institutional service”……I was therefore obliged to do committee work and serve as both academic and club adviser for at least one student organization…over the years, I served as the faculty adviser for the fine arts club, the anime club and the gamers club……in general, my duties included charging pizza to the school credit card and playing board games with fat/acne-scarred coeds…..by the fall of 2015, cashpoint was in free fall and the powers-that-be began laying off any faculty/staff member that wasn’t absolutely essential and that included the fat/loud woman who had been the adviser for the women of color……at the time, I was teaching african-american lit and 2 of the students asked me after class if I would serve as their adviser for the remainder of the school year…..it seems that every year, the cashpoint women of color went to a conference at the university of illinois and with no adviser, they wouldn’t be allowed to go……no doubt, I realize that I’m a kool fucker, but I’m neither african-american nor female…..they really wanted to go though and I had nothing better to do that weekend, so I accepted and filled out the paper work to become their adviser…..i would have to drive the school van 5 hours to champaign, supervise the girls at a hotel and chaperone them at the 2-day conference (knowing full well that I would be the only white male in attendance)……was I intimidated?----nah dude, I thought it would make for a helluva story if I lived to tell the tale….in years past, the club had 20-25 members, but in 2015, their numbers had dwindled to 8……the shady state women of color also like to fight amongst themselves, so by the time I made the hotel reservations, the number of girls attending the conference was down to 4…..after an argument (over who was fucking a track star), it was down to 2 (and it was against shady state protocol for a faculty member to ride with just one student lest they be tempted to fuck)…..the two remaining students were 1) president latonya (who was in my business writing class) and secretary dionna (who was in african-american lit)….i didn’t know much about latonya (other than she seemed quiet/studious, but dionna was a character (who seemingly went days without bathing and who carried an oversized, stuffed teddy bear with her wherever she went)……dionna didn’t know her father and her mother passed away when she was only 15……she had been living with her older sister in chicago, but over summer break her sister informed dionna that she could no longer afford to support her…..when the school year ended, dionna knew that she would be homeless…..although I don’t have time to do the story justice, I noticed that when I went to pick up the school van that it was cashpoint #8 (the one that the school’s married former head of facilities had bought to drive his student-mistress out in the country for a little “afternoon delight”)…..the dude’s wife found out and forced him to take another job in massachusetts, but within 6 months, his born-again brazilian whore had moved there as well….forgive me for not going into more details, but the story I’m telling is ultimately even more bizarre…..i was afraid to carry weed with me on a school trip in the school van, so I erred on the side of stocking my overnight bag with odorless vodka and pain pills….i drove 79 mph in a 65 mph zone and didn’t wear my seat belt and the girls were just happy to be going to their conference…..i don’t remember much that was said, although I do remember dionna constantly teasing me that I had “black blood” (and since my mother’s maiden name is madison and she’s from louisa and has brown skin, I’ve considered that president james madison was having sex with his slaves)……we were late arriving in champaign and had to immediately drive to the conference (as opposed to dropping our bags off at the hotel/allowing me to pound a few more slugs of vodka)…..we were late for the speaker (a black beauty product mogul) as well and that brought 100 stares as the only white man in the room walked to his seat escorted by 2 white-trashed sisters…..i have no memory of what the speaker said, but I do remember that the black chicks in the room could be divided into two categories: 1) fashionistas wearing $1000 (tight) pant suits and 2) homegirls wearing the same (walmart) spanky pants that they wore every other day of the week….i think word of my presence preceded me and most of the women in attendance were polite and some even thanked me for serving as the girls’ surrogate adviser…..after the speaker finished, I took the girls (and one of their pregnant friends) to a burger place near our hotel---and I generally don’t speak on the subject of racism, but I could feel the hatred emanating off the table full-of-cops when I walked into the restaurant….we charged wings, pizza and beer to shady state, but I was the only one who drank…..the next day entailed a full slate of conference presentations with titles like “protecting the temple” (vaginal hygiene) and “boss, queen and everything in between” in the student union…..one speaker implied that I was an “oppressor” from the stage, but I eventually made friends with her ugandan hit woman and we wound up discussing astrology…..at one point, I even mindlessly repeated a mantra about being a strong/black woman……there was a trivia question at lunch with the winner to receive a year’s worth of beauty supplies from the previous night’s speaker-----I knew that the first black congresswoman was shirley chisolm before the rest of the room googled it, but I kept my mouth shut and let some bougie black chick win the prize….once the conference was over, the cashpoint girls wanted to go the local mall, so I decided to check out a local bar that mike mousse (the dean of the business college had recommended)----and this is where the story really takes off…..the bar was packed with hot sorority girls and there were several frat dudes there wearing phi delta theta (my fraternity) sweatshirts……I gave the secret sign and the motherfucking party was on…..pledge master gabe had 2 of the pledges drive the school van back to my hotel and I wound up in the middle of a fraternity party at the university of illinois (and I’m 48-years-old)…..i can’t say that I got laid, but I must have done bong hits in 12 different rooms and even did a keg stand in the fraternity kitchen…..hot coeds were sitting in my lap and posing for pictures…..and you might think being in a frat sucks, but I tell you it’s like a golden pass to another universe….i didn’t know any of these kids, but they immediately accepted me as one of their own…..around 1am, the same 2 pledges drove me back to the hotel…..i had them make a pit stop at their fav pizza place where I charged 4 large pizzas to cashpoint (2 for the phi delt pledges and 2 for the women of color)……I was drunk-as-shit, but I walked down to the girls’ room to deliver the pizzas…..they were in their pajamas and doing homework, but they damn skippy appreciated the fact that their old/fat/white adviser was kool enough to bring them pizza at 1am…..the last event of the weekend was a chicken n’ waffle luncheon at the illinois women of color’s clubhouse the following afternoon----I took 4-5 dumps in the hour that we were there, but i refrained from vomiting until we reached a gas station bathroom on the way home…..it was a good trip….i woke up the next morning before and changed my facebook profile picture to one of me in a suit with roughly 75 black women from the midwest women of color conference---when I returned home that afternoon, my friend, gipper had messaged me a one word question/comment….it read: “brazzers?”

The Midnight Rider prefers to remain mysterious.  You could visit his website, but he won't say where it is.  You could read his books, but he won't say what they are.  You could email him, but I'm pretty sure spam@gofuckyourself.gov is not a real email address.  In a world where everyone is repping their Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, sex tapes, line of clothing, new microbrew, and overall brand, I find that refreshing.  I am happy to have the Rider ride on drinkdrankdrunk.

No comments:

Post a Comment