Monday, April 11, 2011

The Hot Iron Incident

           After I graduated high school in Marietta, Georgia I got an apartment with a bunch of friends that was   
a big fucking shit show in an apartment complex named Lantern Ridge. I was the only one with an apartment 
back then so everybody and their sister came over to get wasted on alcohol and every drug to known to 
man. But this story isn’t about that apartment although I did meet my roommate that I lived with across the 
street from Lantern Ridge. Kevin was a 35 year old or so black guy from North Carolina and was friends 
with the leasing agent of Lantern Ridge’s husband who came over to get fucked up with us. After the shit 
show at Lantern Ridge, Kevin and I decided to move across the street to Plantation Ridge. Kevin was a cool 
ass motherfucker who loved smoking blunts and getting fucked up with us. He also enjoyed hitting on all the 
high school girls that would come over and hang out.
          Plantation Ridge wasn't much different from my first apartment. It was still the party house but this 
time I lived with a semi-responsible adult that could pay his bills on time and not a bunch of 17 year old drop 
outs. I might have done some fucked up shit back then but I always had a job and always paid my bills. 
Finding a roommate that could do the same was and always has been a pain in my dickhole. Kevin didn’t 
mind all of the traffic in the apartment since he liked to get as fucked up as all of us but I’m sure it got to a 
point sometimes that he would get pissed. He never said anything to me but sometimes you could just tell he 
was annoyed. He also had his friends come over to hang out and this included our scumbag neighbors one of 
whom, my friends and I nicknamed Quasimoto. Don’t ask me why we called him that, we just did. He was 
just another black dude from Chicago that liked getting fucked up too. He would always just randomly show 
up and never leave.

          At the time, I was off and on with a girl we will call “Jewdi”. I'll call her Jewdi because she was and probably still is a fucking bitch and will sue my dick off if given the chance. But, back in the day we were inseparable and I loved her very much. To this day I still care for her and hope she is doing well but that fucking cunt can eat my shit. That probably doesn't make sense to most of you but when you are with someone for so long you hope they do well, just far the fuck away from me well. She was always over the apartment because she still lived with her mother who hated my fucking guts.  One day, while Kevin was at work, Jewdi and another couple was over and we got the great idea to watch a porno. Jewdi was kind of a freak like that but there was nothing sexual going on this time. The other guy was someone we went to high school with who was half a retard named Jim. He wasn't really retarded but he was dumb as a rock. He would always go up to girls and hit on them by saying “Hi, I’m Jim” and he always sounded like a retard when he did it.  The only VCR, yes I said VCR you little twerps, was in Kevin’s room and I didn't see a problem with going into his room to get our porn fix since I trusted everybody that was over.

After about a half an hour of watching porn we decided that we had enough and went back downstairs to do whatever it was we did. Everybody left and I didn’t think much of it until I get a call from Kevin the next day while I was at work. He asks me who was in his room and I told him the story. He tells me that he is missing a lot of money and I need to get everybody that was over in his room that night over to the house when I get off work. Knowing that none of the girls took the money and Jim was too much of a tard to take the money, I agreed since I didn’t take it and knew I had nothing to worry about. I had everybody meet me at Kroger where I sold fish to pay the bills and we headed back to the apartment.

When we got there it was a pretty intimidating sight with about 10-12 older black guys in the house. One of Kevin’s friends, Corey, decided to bring a backpack full of guns. We knew this because when we walked in the door he decided to unzip the bag for us to all see. I still wasn’t worried because I was convinced that none of my friends took the money and Kevin was a pretty good dude and we could talk about it and figure something out. Quasimoto, our neighbor was even there and after a little talk with everybody he decided to take control. Now, Quasimoto was just a neighbor who occasionally hung out at our house and smoked our weed and drank all of our beers. He wasn’t really friends with Kevin and he really wasn’t friends with me so I was a little taken back by him taking control. All of a sudden Quasi decides to pick up an iron that Kevin had left out when he pressed his clothes earlier. He plugged it in, heated it up and started messing with Jim by putting it close to his face, saying “We know you took the money. Just admit you took the money”. This went on for a while and it started to get serious. I could tell that Jim was uncomfortable and didn’t know what to do. I decided that enough was enough and this shit was going to end. I have always said that you can fuck with me all you want, but don’t fuck with my friends. I wish that my friends would do the same but I can only think of a couple that actually give a fuck but that’s a whole other story.

I finally told Quasi to stop and this just seemed to get him more riled up and I did too. Then, I decided to get in his face and yell “You wanna know who took the fucking money? I TOOK THE FUCKING MONEY!!!” Quasi then swings back and slaps the fuck out of me right in the face with the now fully heated up iron. I fly through the air like you would see a super hero getting his ass kicked. I seriously flew across the room a good ten feet and landed against the opposite wall of my living room floor. I was never knocked out but it took me a good couple of seconds to compose myself. My first reaction was murder but as soon as I got up I was pouring blood out of my face, lots and lots of blood. This is probably the only time in my life that I have decided to call the cops. I had a house full of older black people who were now all hyped up saying things like “He said he took the money. Nigga deserved it” and one of them had a backpack full of guns. I rushed over to the phone making the crowd of people vanish. By the time that the cops got there Quasimoto had locked himself in his apartment and he wisely wasn’t answering the cops knock at his door. Even though it was obvious he was inside since they could see him peek through the blinds, they couldn’t do anything. The dude hit me with a fucking iron that cut me all the way down to the cheek bone but they still said that they didn’t have enough probable cause to enter his house. I am no fucking lawyer but that sounds like a bucket of aids to me.

After getting some basic care from the paramedics and refusing their ridiculously overpriced ambulance ride, I was given a ride to the hospital by Jim to get stitched up. As I am getting stitches from the doctor, retard Jim is talking shit to the doctor about nonsense. I seriously don’t remember what he was saying but I do remember the doctor telling me “You know, your friend really shouldn’t be talking shit to me while I stitch you up”. No shit! I told you this kid was half retarded. I just saved this little turds ass and took a hot iron to the face for him and he is talking shit to the doctor that is stitching me up! Fucking dickhead! As I was leaving the hospital I got a call from Kevin apologizing and him telling me that he knew that I didn’t take the money and shit just got out of hand. We both agreed that it was more than likely Quasimoto that took the money. He was always just stopping over our apartment and sometimes we would forget to lock the door. I think that he came over one day and just let himself in to find nobody home and started snooping around. Since he was black himself, he already knew that black people don’t like keeping their money in banks and he hit the jackpot in Kevin’s room by checking under his mattress. Call me racist all you want, you know it’s true. Black people don’t trust banks with their money. Fact!

A couple of days later I received a call from Quasimoto in the seafood department at Kroger where I work. He had been hiding around town from the cops but said he was sorry that it happened, blah, blah, blah. He said that he wanted to work something out to where I wouldn’t press charges. Little did he know that I already told the detectives that they were on their own in prosecuting him. What the fuck were they going to do for me other than make money off of someone hitting ME in the face with an iron? Fuck those cops. If they wanted him they should have busted his fucking door down when they knew where he was. Yeah, he would have gone to jail but what does that do for me? I still have medical bills to pay and a scar on my face for the rest of my life. I didn’t give a shit then and I have no regrets today telling the cops to fuck off. I told Quasi that I wanted my medical bills paid and I think $1500 for pain and suffering for having a scar on my face for the rest of my life. He agreed to sign over the title to his piece of shit 1988 Buick La Sabre or some shit for a $500 down payment. I accepted only because I thought that I might as well get something out of this scumbag. He had his roommate bring over a bullshit bill of sale signed by some name other than Quasimoto. I knew his name back then and knew for a fact that it wasn’t his name or signature but fuck it, I had a car to rag out. Quasimoto then dipped out of town and I never heard from him again.

I drove that car around for about a week before I got drunk and decided to take it to the abandoned parking lot by my apartment and did donuts with it before it died. We then walked home and picked up a baseball bat and destroyed it before wiping all of our finger prints off of it. Who knows where Quasimoto got that car but I wasn’t going to go down for any kind of shady bullshit he was trying to pull. We left it there in the parking lot and came back the next day to find it gone. I sure haven’t missed that car but I am reminded of it every time I look at my ugly mug in the mirror each morning.

Rest in Peace Kevin! The BBQ is shittier without you here!


  1. Interesting read, Quasi can fuck off if you ask me! I try not to get myself into situations with those types of people, though...

    Following and supporting!

    Yorkie Love

  2. Don't put new wine into old bottles