Homecoming Post 2: Cane the Kappa- The Untold Story

I believe in aliens. I believe that at one point, dolphins could walk and talk like humans. And, because my grandma is from the Midwest, I believe that spaghetti and fried fish is an actual meal. But I think what makes me truly delulu is the imaginary anything I have created in my mind with Cane the Kappa. 
I remember when I first saw Cane, and this was before he became a Kappa. He was walking behind St. Jo with a bunch of volleyballs or basketballs or something. I know nothing about sports. He was unassuming, just a tall, thin, very light-skinned boy taking a stroll with a bunch of balls. He was cute, and I decided, in accordance with fulfilling my personal goal of becoming besties with only hot guys, I would approach him next year, my sophomore year, when I came back to school skinny , and make him my friend. Let's just say that the Kappas got to him before this goal could be actualized. I remember his probate show. I knew it was him before he took off his little disguise. The dream died, and he became XU-famous. This is all just background for the story I'm about to tell you now, which led to me having a question for him for 23 years. 
THE STORY
One very early morning in 2004 or 5, I was thrown out of the 24-hour study room for falling asleep and snoring. I walked out the side of the library, passed the tennis courts, and around to where the old student center used to be. There was an AKA seating situation over there, and I saw Cane canoodling with Pretty Africa, that super-tall AKA who used to wear kente prints with her Greek gear. They looked so in love, and the sight made me smile all the way back to the dorm. If Cane and I were not meant to be, at least he would be with someone cool. I couldn't wait to see them during the day as a couple, but never did. It dawned on me that I had probably witnessed the fruit of a secret love affair like from the soap operas! I wanted to ask him about it, but he was ALWAYS with the Kappas, which I could have handled if it weren't for the little mean one. But not the one you are thinking of, the other one. 
THE CONVERSATION 
My conversation with Cane left me with more questions than answers. It was hot the day of the tailgate, and watching people try to stay cool was making me feel hotter. I just happened to look over my shoulder, and there was Cane, walking alone, just as I'd first seen him years earlier, only with no balls. He also looked shorter. 
"Cane!" I called.
To my surprise, he walked over to me and gave me a church hug. He was drinking out of a beer can in a paper bag, and he wore a designer fanny pack across his chest like a Girl Scout sash. 
"I have a question for you, one question, two parts," I began. "I've been wanting to ask you this question for years."
I have to admit, I was excited. I wanted the tea on what I assumed was a whirlwind romance between him and Pretty Africa. 
"Okay," he said. It was a million degrees, and he just seemed so chill. His New Orleans accent was THICK. The only way it could sound more New Orleans is if it was coming out of an alligator's mouth. 
"Did you have a secret girlfriend when we were in school?" I asked. 
"Yes, but she was a *#$5@," he said. 
*#$5@?
"It wasn't Pretty Africa?" I asked. 
He shook his head. "Naw, you have me confused with my line brother. He looks exactly like me."
"Oh yeah? He has your same skin and long hair?"
"Yep." Before you ask no, there was no Kappa while we were there that looked anything like him at all. My bs-o-meter began to go off in my left foot, although it could have been diabetic nerve pain. 
"I don't remember that for real," he said, "unless I was drunk." 
Side eye. Blame it on the alcohol.
"I have another question," I said. "Is it true that you are a literal Million-Dollar Nupe? That you won the lottery?"
He shrugged. "Yeah, but it was just a small jackpot."
And then, just like that, he was gone. This guy is a riddle wrapped in a poem dressed in Prada/Gucci. 
I assume it will be another 23 years before I talk to him again. I guess he went back to the Kappa tent after we talked, but I imagine he called Pretty Africa immediately to tell her that their jig was up and to hide their big lotto winnings. Like I said, I'm delulu. 

Homecoming Post 9: 37 Savage and the Bad Shot Shoot (A Cane the Kappa Story)

Once upon a time at Xavier University, I had devised an "airtight" plan to streak through this sorority's portion of the Fall 2004 Neophyte Show. This was back when all the Greek lines came out at the same time. And we would all gather in our newly purchased mall fits to watch our closest friends cross. Some girls I really, really liked crossed in that line, but I had had a BAD time with their elders my freshman year. In 2003, I served on the homecoming committee under the Miss Xavier at the time who was part of said sorority. Child, the abuse me and the other committee members underwent under that itty bitty tiny woman! I will never forget the committee chairman's face when she came into the room, denied our budget request, then told us our event plans sucked. Then there was the one that I chased across campus in the rain because she wouldn't let me walk with her under her enormous sorority umbrella. WE WERE GOING TO THE SAME PLACE! And of course, there was that gorgeous one whose name I don't recall who may have truly been the prettiest girl I'd ever seen in my life! She Rosa Parked me and made me get off of the sorority bench where I was sitting, rubbing my feet after a failed attempt to walk to class in Payless heels. Anyway, the goal was to drop my robe, run naked to the middle of the gym, do the tootsie roll, then run out the side door. I say all this to say that my streaking plan may have been better put together than my plan to get the attention of Cane the Kappa.

Cane is a mystery wrapped in a theory baked in suspense and I want to know him. I have wanted to know him for some time. He is one of those people that no one knows but everyone knows because you can't help but to know him. To me, he looks out of place even when he is blending in. And when I see him, drinking and being cool with his frat brothers, he reminds me of when I used to go to Que parties as a freshman with my fast friends and try to be fast too when I was an obvious mortified virgin.

Yes, it is true that I am a touch thirsty, but this is more than that. I have entered a season where I am just out here shooting shots, even if the odds are that the ball is going to ricochet off the rim and punch me in the face. So many people have died in my life in the past six years that I just want to do everything, even seemingly senseless things that could leave me looking dumb and feeling stupid. I believe this is referred to as living. Plus, I didn't want to leave things with the 10-year reunion bad hug. Another story for another time. 

I don't like going into any situation without a plan, and my plan for this situation was simple. After getting high off of Youtube videos on eye contact and divine feminine energy, my plan was to simply stare at him. That's right. I was going to focus my ancestral gifted sexiness, grudged up from my root chakra to my eyeballs where I would then stare him down like Cyclops from X-Men until the heat from my sensuous gaze burned into the side of his face. His eyes would then meet mine, and I would visually charm him, like cats charm birds out of trees. Then he would have no choice but to rest his head on my breasts and tell me all his secrets and fears. Those witchy ladies who wear waist beads on Youtube said it was a sure thing! 

It's not. 

It was just my luck that the Kappa tent was right next to the tent for the Class of 2007. I had never seen that many Kappas in one place ever, talking about whatever it is that Kappas talk about when they aren't twirling those cute little sticks. I was two hours into the tailgate before Cane emerged from the Kappa tent with the swag of a toddler that had just awoken from a nap. He stepped to the side of the tent, speaking to two girls who looked like twins that had really nice butts and a lot of hair.

Okay, I thought as I took a deep breath and than began to do my queen stare for what felt like an hour. It could not have been longer than a minute. It actually takes a lot to stare at a person for a long time. This I was not banking on. 

Okay, okay. I shook my head and started over again, this time getting the attention of one of the hair twins. She turned and waved to me and I waved back. Maybe I should have asked for her number because the queen stare was not working on Cane. I was beginning to get a headache. 

Before I could go prepare for round three of this poorly executed eye play, a Kappa came out of the tent wearing fire engine red leather pants (I can't make this up) and walked Cane back into the tent. 

No play from Cane in college. The bad hug. Immunity to my eye powers. I think we have to call this a wrap...until 2025 for the Xavier University 100th year anniversay. What can I say?I have never been good at taking a hint. 

Homecoming Post 8: Kappa Krush part 2

Listening to Kappa Kakes talk to my friend at the Kappa tent during the homecoming tailgate was taking me from 0 to 100 real quick. My feet were hurting. I was thirsty. I wanted to sit down, and my hip was sore from falling in the club the night before. I was tired and I could feel myself getting crabby like a toddler, and watching Kappy Kakes' hazel eyes twinkle in the sunlight was, for some reason, pushing me to the edge.

Bored with their conversation, I turned my head to the right to give my nerves a break and there he was: Kappa Krush. While his frat brothers were serving food, taking pictures, and flirting with their fans, he was the cheese that stood alone, dancing excitedly with himself. But that wasn't the right time to approach. I had a plan.  

Yes, I had a plan. And just so you know, from the jump, this plan was full of holes and destined for failure. But, on the way to New Orleans, I had begun to think of all the guys I had liked in school that I hadn't told out of fear of humiliation. Now, they are married to chicks that aren't so beautiful that they couldn't have been me. The ones that sting are the guys that married fatties! Talk about missing the boat! Now, let me be clear, I in no way thought that Kappa Krush would be into me. Not even a little. But for some reason, I was determined to move forward with my plan. And my plan was simple: to get a hug. 

Getting a hug from a Kappa is like taking candy from a baby. They literally hand out girl hugs like free clinic brochures. But I felt like it would be suspicious to just show up at their tent, among all those wet and wavy freshman girls, looking for love. 

Plus, I'd had the same vision for our hug for the past thirteen years. It would take place at a club. "Flex" by Mad Cobra would be playing. We would float to each other and I would fall into his arms as the club applauded. Then, a magic carpet would come, pick us up, and take us somewhere sacred and special, like the Waffle House. #allstarwithgrits

However, by that night I had talked myself out of the plan. I had decided against going to the party at Metro and instead wanted to stay in bed and watch some Law And Order SVU reruns. Then my roommate for the trip, Dizzle, came back to the room TURNED UP and told me that we were going. She had a fantasy she wanted to play out herself which included me, her, and all of our friends dancing to "Wipe Me Down". 

So off to Metro I went with a very, very lit Dizzle. And I ran into a ton of guys from the crush list. You know, the all-stars: Number 5, BobTheBuilder, Cardio Cutie, TheMartin. But, by the time the DJ had gotten to the Houston mix, I was too tired to do The Southside. I decided to Uber back to the hotel. Before I left the dance floor, I stood against the wall to put my shoes back on only to see that I was standing right next to Kappa Krush. 

Isn't it funny how things work out? He was just standing there, looking out onto the dance floor. 

"Hey!" I spat, a bit too loudly, even for the club. 

He looked down at me. "Oh hey."

I then proceeded to receive the most lack-luster side hug I had ever received in my life! I don't know what I had expected a hug from him to feel like, but the club definitely didn't break into "A Whole New World" from Aladdin. It lasted three seconds and then he walked away. A crush thirteen years in the making folks! I felt like someone had let the air out of my balloon. 

I spent the rest of the night crashing the VIP section of some very hot, hot, hot Deltas. Talking to them took my mind off of the stupid expectations I had put into a crush on a man that didn't know me from Adam. It can't possibly be healthy to live this deep in a fantasy world, could it? All that time I had spent daydreaming about boys that didn't give a shit I could have put into finding a real man that gave real hugs. I decided then and there I needed to come back to life, back to reality. 

The reggae mix came on and I turned my head to see a very drunk boy from my class slow winding with himself, laughing at himself while he sipped on a drink. 

"Having fun?" I yelled at him. 

He smiled and nodded, boy twerking to Wayne Wonder. 

Being dorky like that will get you put on the crush list...#SigmaSauced

Homecoming Post 6: Kappa Krush pt. 1

I don't know what you were doing in college, but I was pretending to study, looking for anyone, ANYONE, to do my hair, and nursing crushes on numerous young men that had no idea who I was. The list of loves was so long that I couldn't even keep track. It didn't take much to get added to the list either. A guy could have brushed past me in the bookstore, looked at me briefly on his way to looking at someone else. Guys would fall off. Guys would would get added. I mean, it was really unreal. I remember all of their faces, some of their names. But no crush is as clear in my mind as the crush I had on Kappa Krush.
Like most guys on campus, I had no idea who Kappa Krush was until he crossed. I had seen him around, but he was pretty unremarkable. I had taken note that he was taller than me, but other than that, he was not on my radar. And then came the Neophyte Show. I sat on the bottom bleacher on the right side of The Barn with the homies, enjoying the show. But when it was time for The Kappas to come out I sat back and yawned. Never been a Kappa fan. I found them ALL to be irritating, and I was not surprised that they were crossing literally every boy that had irritated me since I had arrived on the campus...except the tall boy.
"Hey, it's the tall boy," I told my friend. I remember thinking that it was stupid that they put a disguise on him because it was so obvious who he was. And after he took off his mask, I watched him adorably fumble through their entire routine. The boy was tone death. A fact that I knew he knew because I could see him counting his steps as he did them. How sweet! Nerdy things like that will get you added to the crush list...
I told friends that I had a crush on this guy, and they didn't play along with it like they did with my other fly-by-night crushes. They all gave me very, VERY negative feedback. I think that they were afraid that if they didn't bash him, I may do something stupid, like tell him. These were the same friends that had witnessed the nightmare that was me writing basketball player Tim Green a literal four-page love letter, spraying it with Victoria Secret body spray, sealing it with an ACTUAL KISS, and putting it on the windshield of his truck. Luckily it was retrieved and he never knew about it. I was warned that if I so much as hinted at this crush as I had with Tim, I would be publicly humiliated by ALL of the Kappas- the bald one, that one that sang, the one that dated the AKA, the one with the big eyes, the one who wore the shades, the one with the green eyes. ALL. OF. THEM. I didn't put it passed a boy to be mean to me. Just that last year I had been attacked by the entire basketball team (a post for another day)!
But then I had an interaction with Kappa Krush.
I was in the bookstore with my bisexual homegirl and we were standing behind him in the checkout line. She was going on and on about a girl that wouldn't get the point about their relationship being over.
"I don't get it," she said. "She won't leave me alone."
"Please. You used that girl like a moist towelette," I said, rolling my eyes.
Kappa Krush turned around and laughed. "That's a new one," he said, then went on to ring up his stuff. I could feel my friend tense up. She knew he was on the list and how little it took for me to go overboard.
"Do we need to talk about that?" she asked as we left the bookstore.
"About what?" I asked while thinking, About the fact that we're getting married?! I literally skipped back to the dorm, happy that Kappa Krush, as I had suspected, wasn't a complete douche like the other ones. He was nice!
Now, fast forward to last week at the homecoming tailgate and what would become the end of my 13-year delusion.