I’m still baffled that Yours Truly was given the opportunity to interview R. Kelly a few months ago. Still diggin’ his new single, “Echo,” and, like I said before, homie’s crazy. And I dig that about him! But, what’s really crazy is that he’s become my boy. He gave me a ring a few days after that interview and told me to give him a call if I was ever in LA, Chicago, The People’s Republic of China, or any Waffle House east of the Mississippi. I met up with him before in Chicago and we went to IKEA, ate some meatballs that were off the hook, got bored, called up his girls, kicked the help out, pulled all of the IKEA beds together, put on Jock Jams Volume 2 and danced to Coolio until noon the next day. He called it his very own “IKEA idea.” He wants to do them every year now. Then, when I was in LA, he gave me the address of a restaurant and told me to meet him there, 12am sharp, for the pre-party and a hot biscuit.

As I stood in front of the building, questioning the address he gave me, I pulled out my phone and dialed his number while double-checking the crumpled piece of paper I wrote the address on.

He picked up and started sing-yelling, “Tell me who this is! I said, I said, tell me who this is right now, girl!” I let him continue as he stretched his words into notes. “Cuz I just wanna know, yes I said I, I, I wanna know, I wanna know, who this is right now, girl.”

I pulled the phone back from my ear and snarled at it. “Dude, it’s me. Just chill, R.” I secretly thought it was funny to call him R.

“Oh what’s up girl!” He replied, as if he didn’t just write a song to me over the phone. “How you been?”

“I think you gave me the wrong address. I’m standing in front of a strip club right now.”

“Yeah, come on in, girl. We in the back. The big booooooooth!”

“I thought we were going to a restaurant?”

“Nah, dawg. We goin’ bowlin’!” he said, as if it all made sense now.

Dryly, I replied, “What, there’s a bowling alley in this strip club?”

“This is bowling night, girl! Get in here, man!”

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