Another Record Label Boss and Music Producer in The ATL

Front Porch Atlanta 300x199 Another Record Label Boss and Music Producer in The ATL

I met another “owner of his own record label” the last time I was in Atlanta. In fact it was the day after I met mini TI (CEO) who got shot up at The Bounce. I forget his name It begin with an S. Let me just call him Simon. I was sitting on my friend’s front porch talking to another friend Obi on the phone as there was too much noise in the house. As I finished talking to Obi this guy walks past and starts talking to me. He is kind of cute and seems nice enough. He comes with some talk about,

“I haven’t seen you around these parts before.”

I of course opened my mouth and then he realized I wasn’t from there and got excited.

He told me that he was. Wait for it a┬ámusic producer and owner of his own recordlabel **SURPRISE SURPRISE** Of course it being Atlanta I wasn’t surprised at all. He told me that his studio was right behind my friend’s building, and did I want to come and hang out with him. I wasn’t doing anything that evening as my friend was as sick as fuck due to excessive drinking and his flatmate and his girlfriend didn’t like to do anything but have sex in the shower day and night, so I was more than happy to hang out with him.

He showed me where his studio/apartment was and gave me his group’s DVD. I said that I would come and see him later on. I took his number and then I went back into my friend’s house. When I got back to my friend’s house I looked at the DVD. On the cover one of the faces had been X’ed out. I showed my friend the DVD, and he laughed. I told him that I was going to the guy;s studio/apartment and told him where Simon lived. He said to call him so he could hear what he sounded like to determine if he was a nutter or not. I called and he didn’t answer. A few seconds later he called back my friend’s number. The name that came up on the caller display was the name of his record label. I spoke to him briefly and my friend agreed that he sounded OK, (although I’m sure serial killers sound OK at some point too but that’s beside the point!)

I turned up at the studio and it didn’t really look like a studio inside, only thing it was, was a studio flat, with some music equipment lying around. So he asks if I want to watch a film which we start to do. Ten minutes into the film and there is a vigorous knock at the door. He goes to open it and stand outside talking to the person. She looks like a hoodrat. I can see some orange weave and tight tight jeans, like magic stretch jeans from back in the day. Half of what she is saying I can’t understand, she has a deep deep Southern accent and is really loud, all I get is a hyena laugh and, “You know what I’m sayin” every two seconds. This continued for a few minutes and when he came in he started boasting about the hoodrat being one of his “top artists” and how good of a rapper she was. Then he went onto say how she really likes him and wants to be with him but he can’t mix business with pleasure and all this bullcrap. As if all this nonsense added to his desirability factor.

I quite liked him until he started talking about employing me I thought, “Here we go again.” This fool gave me a CD and was talking about ME making copies and distributing them As if? ME? Yeah right! I thought the best thing to do was to humour him to get him to shut up about it. It worked and we continued to watch the film. Then I heard a loud scratching noise, like he had rats trapped in a cupboard. I kept looking around before I realized that it was him scratching himself. He had eczema and his skin was raw and looked ready to drop off. I know Eczema must be itchy but damn, he was making me feel sick. I hadn’t even noticed the scaly skin before his scratching. The more he scratched the more noticeable it became and I was put right off. In a bid to make him stop I said to him,

“It will only get worse if you keep on scratching.”

My words of wisdom didn’t seem make much difference and he kept on scratching much to my annoyance. To top it off he told me that he had got into a motorbike accident and fucked up his leg and did I want to see. While I was thinking, “No not really,” He pulls up the leg to his jeans and shows me his mangled leg. At this point, I’m feeling completely sick It was just too much information. What the hell did I need to see that for?

After the film he asks me if I was hungry. I said that I wasn’t hungry. He kept insisting that I eat with him so I agreed. He calls a pizza place and when he gets off the phone he tells me how much the pizza is. Something about the way he said it made me think that he was expecting ME to pay for it. I mean why did he need to tell me how much it was? So now I am feeling uneasy. I am NOT paying for his damn pizza. He reckons he is a BIG TIME record label boss, so how can he really not afford a pizza? To see if he was really expecting me to pay for the pizza I started digging in my bag,

“Oh I don’t have much money in here, I left it at home.”

The bitch then dares to open his mouth,

“I only have $2 for food for tomorrow.”

I cannot believe my ears. I am livid. How dare he order food knowing full well his broke ass can’t afford it. He must have seen the look on my face and goes to try and explain himself,

“I just paid rent. I’m gonna have some money the day after tomorrow.”

Now I don’t care who is broke and what you do with your money, but when you try and cut into my money in such a devious way is when we have a problem. I played it cool I told him that I was going back to my friend’s house to get some money and I would be right back.

When I got to my friend’s house I called and told him I thought I had cash left but didn’t (I was leaving the next day) and that I was tired just going to go to sleep. I never saw him again, or his CD or DVD.

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