Sex Addicts Anonymous

Beano

Have you ever hated doing something so much that you did it on occasion just to make sure you still hated it?...Me and my best friend hated going to clubs. But that was the reason we were there tonight... Well that and she had been invited by some light skinned Drake wanna' be ass nigga. Supposedly he was performing or DJing or some bullshit... Whatever! I couldn't even remember the name of the damn place; I just wanted to be able to say 'We came! We saw! And then we left!'

This bitch was overly excited though. Excited like he was somebody special and she was the chosen one. Bye Felicia! Sure, I sound like an old, bitter ass, hating ass friend and well low-key I am a little bit. This bitch always has some nigga drooling over her and I usually gotta take one for the team. My job is then to try and keep the idiot ass friend occupied so that her and whoever can whatever.

If the friend is cute, he's usually dumb as dog shit and if he can hold a conversation he usually looks like Caesar. Not the one that you're thinking of, cause he would probably be considered an upgrade. Nah, I'm talking 'Planet of the Apes' Caesar. Don't know how I end up with the shit end of the stick but I do. I'm not ugly...or at least I don't think so.

We're about evenly matched. Both have smooth chocolate skin and dark brown eyes, although mine are more slanted. We're both curvy, she has more tits than I do but I have more ass. She's 5'11", about five inches taller than I am; but I usually wear heels to level the playing field. She always has some long ass weave that stops right above her ass and my hair is permed and hangs right past my collarbone. But regardless of the statistics, I don't like the shitty stick and I'd rather be anywhere but here!

"Ooooo!" she squealed. "Look, bestie! He about to perform." she grabbed my hand and we quickly made it to the front of the crowd.

'Great! The fake Drake!' I thought to myself and rolled my eyes.

He started performing and the hoes in that place went fucking crazy.

'You have got to be shitting me... He even raps like Drake! His main goal in life is to be mistaken for someone else, more specifically Drake!...Maybe he could land a spot on Degrassi 4.0 or some shit.' I thought.

"Oh my gawd, bitch! He sound good, don't he?"

"Ohmagawd! Sure!" My response was fueled by sarcasm but she was to starstruck to realize it.

About 30 minutes later, when Fake Drake finally wrapped up his last 'song' then he came down to meet us on the floor so we could follow him to his VIP section. I followed them hesitantly knowing that his entourage was going to be just as corny as he was if not worse. As we walked I watched his hand slide from my best friend's waist to her ass and I could tell that she giggled when he did it but I just shook my head and continued to walk.

When we got to his section it looked exactly like I had pictured. At first I thought they had ordered a group of strippers but upon further observation I could see that it was just some of the hoes that were screaming during the performance. There was one guy sitting off to the side, drinking something dark who I assumed to be the bodyguard because I'm sure Fake Drake has crazy fans and haters. I rolled my eyes for the umpteenth time and stood next to my best friend.

"Oh, yeah. Bestie this is DJ, DJ this is my best friend Chyna." She leaned over to him and said, "That's her nickname...because of her eyes," she smiled.

He smiled reaching over to shake my hand as I held back laughter. 'DJ... Drake Junior,' I thought. Then he looked at the bodyguard and waved him over. 'Damn! Was I sneak dissin' out loud?! I didn't laugh out loud did I?! Shit! I did! I was! He bout to put my ass out! See! Shit end of the stick!'