"Really Miss The Feeling"

I had just graduated from The University of Georgia with my degree in Sport Management, I had a job with The Hershey Company as a Retail Sales Representative and I had just moved into my apartment off Oakley Rd. in Union City, GA. A purgatory suburb of Atlanta, Ga. A quick ride up 85N to get to the action of the city, but just far enough away to make visits from ladies and homeboys just infrequent enough. I sat on my "new" couch from Value Village, bored, watching the first weekend of College Football, salivating over what Homecoming trouble I could get into back at UGA and excited about my first "grown up" Labor Day weekend plans. 

Scrolling through twitter, I noticed a friend stamping a moderately highly-anticipated album release he had gotten his hands on a couple days early, Travis Scott's debut, Rodeo. On the heels of Future's DS2, released in July, I wasn't in need of more party music, but wanted to get "fun" again considering my new found freedom from the extracurriculars of UGA and a guaranteed direct deposit hit every two weeks. Little did I know, this album would provide the backdrop for the most fun time of my 25 yr life thus far. Lets start with track one: Pornography

Was not having a lot of sex, no that's not it LMAO. Scott was speaking about being "antsy," cause his ambition was too frantic. My own ambitions weren't yet, but I felt his flavor, his style wasn't like anyone I had been listening to and I became intrigued instantly. And as the years go by I relate more and more to that line. Moving on to my personal favorite from the album, track two, Oh My Dis Side. The song that birthed Huncho Jack, Jack Huncho, Travis and Quavo's recent collaboration. 

"Really miss the feeling of the late nights, sh*t we used to do 'round midnight, hangin on the corner had shit tight, doin all the drugs had to get right," Travis harmonizes on the second half of the track. That was me, that was us! My friends and I (all still great friends in 2018 thankfully) would run to any spot we had access to, and had good hookah. No, not so much the drugs as the line says, but Maria, we was DRUNK! 

We'd race to House of Hookah on 14th St with a cooler filled with Cuervo Gold, Sprite, Lemonade, and 5lb bag of ice. We'd kickback from half-done jobs, laugh as loud as we could, drinking as much as we could before sundown and head over to Peter's St. to start the evening at either Blu Cantina or Cloud IX (RIP). 
 
The Wednesday before Thanksgiving, was Hole in the Wall. That year, I Can Tell was blaring from my company issued 2015 Chevy Equinox as I avoided paying for parking behind the bar and elected the side street down the hill. Why my risk/reward evaluations were so poor then I'm not sure. I was younger, more naive, and unknowing to what lied ahead I suppose. I would limit my spending to $100 a week on food, and would run to YDFM on a whim for whatever I needed to make exactly what I wanted to eat.

Ox tails, jambalaya, and curry chicken were my go-to's. Apple Pie was immediately relatable, because I felt where he was coming from ,"I need my own recipe, my own legacy." That's how it feels when you're independent of your parents for the first time, you just want your own, not knowing that those two things and not binary. But that's all for now, "won't you and your friends come eat with me, and let me show you how to whip, whip, whip, that recipe!" But, "don't you open that window, don't let out that Antidote!"