A few years ago, when I was about 23, I was having some issues with this woman at my job.

I was working at a White Castle, and they'd hired this woman as an assistant manager. And she was fucking insane. It became clear to me early on that she wanted me to fuck her. She was always complimenting me on how handsome I looked, and comparing me to her dead husband, and talking about how she was gonna have me made assistant manager, and bringing me shit from her house to eat.

I didn't want want to lead her on or anything, but I'd go ahead and eat the shit. This was years ago, before my blogging career - so to speak - had even taken off to the extent that it has, and I was broker than a motherfucker. I was living on something like $100 - $150 a week; and a man of my stature, I need to spend more money on food and alcohol than most people, or I'm just not gonna be able to function.

But actually shoving my joint in this old beast was just out of the question. Generally, I like to think of myself as a path of least resistance brother. But even a black man has to draw the line somewhere! Not only was this woman old as dirt, but she was fucked the fuck up-looking in a way that you'd probably have to spend five years living in a rural area to truly understand. You just don't see shit like that on the East Coast.

So one day, I was just like, "Fuck this shit." I actually threw my apron down on the floor and bolted out the front door, on some Half Baked shit. I've pulled the ol' repeated no call-no show more times that I care to admit over the Internets (people might start to think I'm crazy or some shit), but this was the only time I've ever actually walked off a job mid-shift.

The way I left, there couldn't have been any confusion as to whether or not I was gonna come back. But the next day, the boss called me up and was like, "You know, you can come back, if you want to." I think they were a little bit short that day, and hence they were a little bit desperate. Plus, I think she was aware of some of the issues I was having with this assistant manager broad. No one else there liked her, either. She had been transferred there from another location, and the thought was that maybe eventually they'd shift her ass somewhere else.

I had to seriously think about it, because, like I said, I was broker than a motherfucker. I already told you fruits what I was making. And keep in mind, something like $230 a month of that was going to rent. Fortunately, they let you eat for free at White Castle, and I was eating literally almost all of my meals at White Castle. I knew, if I didn't go back, I'd be setting myself up to have to do shit like sneak into my parents' house at night and see what kind of food I could skim from the refrigerator, and all kinds of sorry-ass shit.

But pride wasn't about to let me crawl back to White Castle. So I was just like, "Nah, I can't do it." I hung up the phone and went looking for another shitty job.

The reason I bring this up, of course, is because I just heard that audio of Young Buck on the phone with Fiddy Cent, crying like a little bitch, and I'm dumbfounded. I've spent the last several years of my life on the Internets looking for ways that I might experience a little schadenfreude at these rappers' expense, and I don't know that I've ever seen a rapper ether himself quite as bad as Young Buck just did.

I'm not even sure what a rapper would even have to do to top that.

Granted, you can't really compare my financial situation to Young Buck's. Given the way he was crying and shit, I'm assuming his shit is fucked the fuck up, even more so than I once thought. I was broke, but it's not like I was millions of dollars in debt to the IRS. You can't really go into debt when you can't get any credit in the first place. I know even babies get preapproved for credit cards these days, but not this baby.

And the concept of broke tends to be relative. When you've hardly ever had more than $1,000 in your pocket at any given point in your life, even absolute zero isn't too far off from the best you've ever been. I'm sure if you actually reached a point where you had a shiteload of money, and you somehow managed to spend it all plus-some in such a brief period of time, it'd be way more devastating.

Still, I don't know if I'd be calling up another man talking about how I got confused, breaking down into tears and having him explain to me how I can improve my situation by being more like Tony Yayo. That's just gay. Even if I did decide that my best course of action was to try to get back in G-Unit, I still wouldn't have done any shit like that.

If I was Young Buck, I'd be trying to set out on my own. I'm sure he could find a better deal for himself than the one he was getting with Fiddy, even if it just meant signing with one of these independent labels. But I'm sure, in the wake of Tha Carter III, he could find someone still interested in giving him some money. Shitty southern rap is back! Only thing is, I don't know if his career can even recover from this latest incident. Kissing another guy on the mouth is one thing, but this was just pathetic. Nullus.