Diary of a Confused Black Woman

If This Crackhead Don't Stop Calling Me!

By the title you would swear that I'm talking about some guy that I want to just stop calling but it's really not like that. There is a real life crackhead who is calling me consistently. I throw parties as a side job so that I can make some extra money to save up and buy a home. Well, last week, my partner and I were leaving the comedy club. We had such a great time!!! When we came out of the club we started handing out fliers to the other people leaving.

As we were doing so another promoter that we know told us about this crackhead that was standing near by. The crackhead had fliers in his hand too. Now this may sound weird but the promotion game in Jersey is just like the crack game. Basically you have your high end promoters who everyone is always watching because they are getting that gwap [money]. Then you have the middle class-suburban promoters [pushers] that no one knows that they are promoters until you say your promotion name then everyone is like oh you're such and such. For example, most of the time I end up in the club in my 9-5 outfit because I go straight from work to the comedy club, or the bar, or the strip club...etc. Anyway, most of the time when I get to the door they let me in for free then someone randomly asks why does she get in for free then the other person says, "oh that's Fergie". Then the other says, "oh she does Dolce on Sunday right?” Then that's it and usually people say oh you're Fergie? With a question mark as if I shouldn't look the way I look. Then there are those who are just not the shit. I mean people see them or talk about their parties and say oh hell no I'm not going to the shit or I'm not dealing with that crazy muthafucka. In the end it's a 3-tier system, you always want to be on top or the middle and trust people will try and sabotage your shit just to get ahead of you. At times I think I want out but I keep thinking of the beautiful condo I'm working towards.

I digress, so the promoter says this crackhead is the shit about handing out fliers so we decide to give him a try. We give him a couple of stacks of fliers and $30. We tell him if the numbers at our club goes up over the week then we'll meet back up with him on the following Monday and give him more fliers and more money. Well guess what! On Thursday of the same damn week, crackhead shows up at a lounge that we are at. I mean like what the fuck! We are just chilling, we're not even promoting we are out to dinner and drinks chilling talking and he starts calling us from peoples' phones. Cause you can't smoke inside in Jersey he is using the smokers outside phone. My partner went outside and told him to wait until Sunday for us to see the numbers. When I went outside he asked me the same question but he had some crackhead lady with him too. Next thing you know she is all in my face saying I'm going to help, I can do it. I kept saying back up and no. First off we don't even know if his job was good. Then she starts to take the fliers out his hand. I mean crackheads fighting is sad it's not even funny just sad. So I walked away. Don't you know from that point on the crackhead called me from different numbers at least 30 times a day. Last night we went to a comedy club and guess who was there....the crackhead and was really like no disrespect I need more and I'm telling him hell no cause the numbers didn't go up. He followed me and my girls into the club. The bouncers threw him out. He came back in a side door and got thrown out again. And when we left I had to curse him out cause he was just not listening. Even if we thought he did a good job he fucked it up calling us 30 times a day for 4 days in a row!

I have stopped answering my phone! It's to the point where if you don't text me or email [blackberry baby!] me then I don't know you're trying to contact me! I mean who knew that a crackhead would memorize a number to call you that damn much! Then again, it is all about the money and the drugs, so if I had a crazy addiction then I would memorize the number too. I can't lie when I was addicted to 31's dick I definitely knew the number by heart and still do to this day!!! I just need the crackhead to stop fucking calling!!!!!

Labels: 31, crackheads, my house, parties

posted by cherry's kid @ 11:26 AM