Tupac the Matchmaker


The following is a story. The story of how i credit the rapper Tupac for getting me and my beautiful wife together.

The other day I was at my sister in laws house, helping them move dirt from one pile to another, AKA landscaping. Luckily I had the Spotify app going in my phone, and a little Tupac came on.  And as often happens when I’m doing mind numbing labor (AKA every day at work) my thoughts start to wander. It wandered back to my high school thug years. Back when I used to look to Tupac songs for advice in dealing with girls.

But to a young, impressionable lad like myself, Tupac was very confusing. “I get around” is a song saying womanizing is the way to go. But “Keep your head up” says respect women. For every “How Do You Want It” there was a “Dear Mama”.

And then, Tupac got himself shot. What was a young man to do?

Well, I did what any youngster with no guidance would do. I avoided girls altogether. All through high school, no contact. Didnt talk to a single one. Very little success after high school too. Until i transferred from the Rite Aid in Lompoc to that magical Rite Aid at Coffee and Olive in Bakersfield. And i saw her. The take your breath away, stunningly beautiful Stefanie Smart.

So I did what i always do. I froze up. Dang you, Tupac, where are you when i need you!

And just like that, there was a voice in my left ear. “Yo, what up homey”. I look, and its Tupac right there on my shoulder! Lookin like I remember him. Well, except he was dressed all in red, had horns, and was holding a trident. He spoke again “Yo dawg, check it. I see you scoping that tall piece of @$$ over there. I feel you, homey. Check this. This is what you gonna do, aight. Take your left hand and grab the front of your pants like youre holding them up, ya feel me?” But Mr. Shakur, I have a belt on. “Dawg, you keep interrupting, I aint gonna help yo @$$, got me? Aight, now you put a dip in yo hip, know what i’m sayin, and you walk up to her and you grab that phat booty with your right hand and you tell her: ‘b****, we gonna do this or what?’. And then, G, you take her to the cold box, (dont worry, she down, i can tell) and you sit her up on that display of Bud Light in there and you rip that blue Rite Aid smock off her and tell her ‘baby, i dont want you wearing nothin but me, ya feel me?’ And then you take a 40oz off the shelf and you pour that sh** on her! Yeeaah homey, the b*****s love that s***, dawg! Yeaaah and then hit it and quit it, ya feel me?” And then Tupac started doin this thug dance with his elbows out, side to side, making the “W” with his fingers.

Boy, was I fired up! Good to go! Lets do this! So I grabbed my pants and started taking a few steps in her direction. Thats when i heard another voice, in my right ear this time.


So i stop. I look. And its Tupac again! But this time he was dressed in white with a set of dazzling wings and a halo. And he said “Young blood, mind if i step in here with some advice?” I look back over at devil Tupac and hes riding his trident like a horse, still throwing up the “W”. So i throw up the “W” right back and continue my walk over to my future conquest. But angel Tupac stops me.

“Look, homey. My man over there, he got some good advice. But that aint yo style, dawg. ‘Sides, that woman over there, you gotta respect her. You go over there right now, trying what my man over there told you, my brotha, you’ll end up wit a couple black eyes, a broken nose, and ya boyz up around yo chin. So breathe, dog, and check this. This is what i want you to do: be calm. Laid back. Act shy. Act like you aint even interested. Act so awkward around her that she wont even know what your sexual orientation even is. It’ll drive her crazy. And best of all, ignore her. She wont be able to stand it.” But Pac, thats what i always do! For like, the last 10 years! “Trust me, my man, this time tomorrow she’ll be all over you.”

Then angel Tupac flashed a subtle “W” and was gone. I looked for devil Tupac and he was gone too. Alone again. Decision time. Aggressive or passive? So I chose….

Angel Tupac.

And he was actually wrong. Didnt take a day. Took more like a year. But still, look at us now, more than 10 years later:

2 kids. 2 dogs. 2 Fords. Too happy.



(Flashing a “W” to the heavens)


About BakoRamblinDad

I'm a happily married father of 2 beautiful children, ages 4 and 6. My posts are about whatever enters my shockingly simple brain. From parenthood to Tupac, I just never know.
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5 Responses to Tupac the Matchmaker

  1. This was really clever. Devil Tupac made me laugh out loud.

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