This is Us


This weekend I had the pleasure of taking my wife on a little getaway because this past month has been as busy as the beginning, middle and end of tax season. So I have this idea of taking my wife somewhere where she can relax, eat, sleep and not worry about the children. In order to accomplish this, I had to channel my inner Julius from Everyone Hates Chris. See I’m more of a value package type of guy this whole a la carte buying shit is overrated and can be downright expensive. So one night I fell asleep and a frugal angel appeared in my dream and said loudly, ‘Check out the Travel section of Groupon big fella.’ The next day I woke up with a new sense of purpose as I entered the Groupon world like an intern the first day of work at a big company.

My checklist was: King size bed, refrigerator, microwave, parking, breakfast and some good places to eat because my wife is my Man vs. Food partner. So I decided on an area close to Philly since she loves cheesesteaks and the last time we ordered one, I ordered it like I was back in Baltimore and let’s just say this didn’t end well.  This is us in a nutshell.

Friday morning comes and all bags is packed and I’m getting the kids outta here and the first question I ask her is: tolls or no tolls. She politely put on her shades and said ‘nigga just drive the car don’t mess up this vacation for me or imma mess up the booty reparations for you this weekend’. Sidebar: I gotta shout out Warryn Campbell, if you haven’t watched the show We’re the Campbell’s check it out because right now he is arguably the big and black is back goat because every episode his wife ask him to do something and his reply is add to this the booty reparations. Therefore, I got to driving like Morgan Freeman in that Miss Daisy flick. I had the Spotify banging and we out. As we driving we approach this bridge and for the record my wife hates bridges so as we get closer she was like, ‘oh Lord Sonny why you aint tell me there was a damn bridge. Alexa play The Battle is not yours it’s the Lord by Yolanda Adams. You know what fuck it I’m going to sleep’. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that aint no damn Alexa in the car so instead I played Apeshit because that would describe my wife at that very moment. After that was over we was back in action talking about life shit listening to whatever Spotify played. We pull up to the hotel and I noticed a Wawa so instantly I’m like shit if she wants a snack got that 5 dollar sub and I look like a hero. Winner winner chicken dinner. I love driving with my wife because we have the same taste in music so as all these white people are in the lobby here comes the Grayson’s’ with this song blasting through the speakers:

“Pussy ho, pussy ho/ Pussy ho, she a pussy ho/These niggas won’t hold me back/These hoes won’t hold me back/These hoes won’t hold me back/These niggas won’t hold me back/These niggas won’t hold me back noooooooo”

Some look in disgust but I got a head nod from a Spanish kid and he was like, ‘ok ok I see you big guy…nice truck’. I gave him the head nod and proceeded to check in. As I’m checking in the manager says:

Manager: ‘We have breakfast from 6-10 and you are more than welcome to come down. Will you be joining us for breakfast? Also, don’t forget we have lemonade and ice tea available 24 hours a day as well”

Me: Well if you are offering. Siri set alarm for 6:30 am. You know I got to give the people a head start.

Wife: If you don’t be quiet wit cho Sams from Lean on me hungry ass and don’t you even think of bringing that bottle down and making a jumbo half and half.

Me: Shidddddddddddddddd-Clay Davis voice. I’m getting busy.

The room is nice. All the amenities accounted for so I begin my plot for dinner. In my mind, I am channeling Dave Chappelle from Half Baked when he went on that date but I know my wife aint playing that shit so I have to govern myself accordingly. Then my wife says:

Wife: Hey I’m thinking about a date night involving some steak and a ritzy restaurant. You know we haven’t had a date in a while and I saw what you put in that suitcase. Wear that shirt I like and imma wear what you like and oh yeah I saw it on Groupon. Sonny are you even listening to me you got that damn ESPN on you haven’t heard anything I said.

Me: Shut up quianna just shut up. (Now I know what you thinking…this nigga crazy, he aint getting no ass at all for all we know he might die tonight) but this is what I really said

Shut up, quianna just shut up. You had me at Groupon.

Wife: boy bye. Enough about tomorrow’s dinner what about tonight my nigga. Ishkabibble’s or nah

Me: We out.

Riding to Philly blasting this new Dave East mixtape feeling like Baltimore roads with all these damn potholes, uneven paving and constant construction reminders but I trust the process (see what I did there). Pull up to the spot and my wife begins to coach me like my life was on the line and in her eyes it probably was.

Wife: look babe forget what happened last time. You got this babe. You want me to google how to properly order a cheesesteak

Me: first of all it’s only a cheesesteak. Nigga do you see this body. Does it look like I need google?

Wife: to you it’s just a cheesesteak but to me it’s culinary matrimony. You know I like it when my man takes charge.

Me: that might have been the fattest shit I ever heard and yet I’m still turned on. Aight, see what google say but turn that Bluetooth shit off I don’t want nobody hearing this.

I go to the counter and hit the girl with the mean Marshawn Lynch talk:

Me: ‘You know why I’m here. Cheesesteak wiz wit”

In a perfect world there would have been commentary during this conversation from Mark Jackson saying ‘Mama there’s goes that man” or Stuart Scott yelling “booyah” as I ordered this food correctly. I get in the car and to see my wife smile over a cheesesteak is what marriage is all about, well at least my marriage.


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