A Day With RedRuM, And How I Survived It

It was a nice cool night in the beginning of February when I sat down for this interview with JBW star. RedRuM. It was supposed to be just an ordinary interview with us sitting in chairs and him describing events in his life... what it turned into was something far, far more different than that.

We took a trip to as he called it, "My Hood"... I saw plenty of things and... experienced plenty of things I thought I never would. It took me a few days to piece together my thoughts, the tapes and also my writing. I can honestly say that after this interview, I can never be the same again...

I sit in my chair with the lights on for the interview. I have my papers ready for the questions and I have everything I need... or so I thought to myself. This interview will be fun, amusing and particualarly awesome. Yes, and established interviewer said "awesome". I was looking forward to this interview, I sipped my water and anticipated him coming... he was already late by 30 minutes at this point but the excitement has not worn off... it's not every day you get to sit for a tell all interview with a quickly rising superstar of this nature.

Finally after about an hour of waiting this very large black male made his way into frame. A female co-worker of mine was getting food from the table when he smacked her bottom and gloated about it. "That's a fine, phat white ass!! Damn BITCH!!" he said giddily... this was definitely going to be a lot more fun than I thought. He had his JBW SHOWDOWN! Television Championship around his waist and he was fully dressed in his wrestling gear. Hopefully he didn't want to wrestle I thought to myself.

As he was laughing and punching a stagehand at a racist joke he just made, I noticed his body and all of the tattoos... the main on written across his abs that caught me off guard was the one that said "NIGGA" in big bold words with barbed wire all across his stomach line. He had tattoos all over his humongous frame. He has been here for roughly twenty minutes now and he's still goofing off with everyone else while I sit here nervously.

"Why the fuck you sittin' there all uptight for an' shit nigga?? Get yo' ass over here an' enjoy some shit"

He pointed at me and motioned for me to come over.

"I'ma call yo' ass "Stick" from now on nigga. When I say 'dat shit, you come, you hear me nigga??" Oh I heard him all right... I was just standing there being 5'10" and in awe to his 6'7", 287lbs frame. He smacked me on my shoulder and laughed as I stumbled forward.

"Nigga, you tryin' to talk to my ass in this fuckin' place? Man, we best be goin' now an shit.. I ain't fuckin' sittin' here. I just got done a fuckin' match, an I'm tired as hell, nigga. We gon' go to my crib, I'ma change an' we out yo."

"We out"? Hmmm... I wasn't comfortable leaving the soundstage area and I wasn't quite sure what to expect going into this mans house and even what was going to happen on the way there. I soon found out why I was nervous...

We made it out of the building and into the parking garage when I saw his ride... it was a brand new off the line 2012 Dodge Viper SRT. Red with Black trim of course...

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Such a beautiful vehicle it was and man was it powerful. He took his Championship off and placed it in a compartment in the back. He threw it into gear and we were off. He was blasting as he called it "Some ol' school shit, nigga!"... it was Wu-Tang Clan "36 Chambers". His speakers were thumping the music as we made our way through the city. Everything was going so fast. It was at that point I looked over and he was driving with his knees while rolling a blunt.

He was doing the process and getting ready to smoke... right in front of me. And driving with his knees no less! This was actually quite impressive to be honest. He pulled out a custom lighter that was made of solid 24k gold and lit up the blunt to seal it considering he just got done licking it of course. After a couple seconds of waiting, he lit it up, took a couple drags and motioned for me to take it and "hit it".

I didn't want to be disrespectful so, I did. I instantly felt great and relaxed a bit. He had his mask on and bandana wrapped around his mouth but, I knew he was smiling. It was at that point my world crashed down... we were going almost 100mph in a 45mph zone, the NYC cops finally had us. He actually pulled over too. He took the blunt from me and said "Yo nigga, act cool an' shit... I'ma get us through this. Don't be a fuckin' pussy!"

I sat there very upset and scared. How could I not be?

He still had the blunt lit as the cops came up on the car. One on my side and one on his. Clearly they didn't know what to expect so they had their hands on their gun holsters at the ready.

"License and Registration... and keep your hands where I can see them at all times. The cop on my side got a bit nervous and began to pull his gun out. I noticed it and I'm not afraid to say... I peed a little. I'd never had a gun pointed at me in my entire life and I was getting ready to have one now.

RedRuM pulled out the required papers, moved his bandana and took a drag of the blunt. He blew it into the officers face as well. This was NOT going to end well, I knew it. The officer got a scowl on his face and began the procedure.

"OUT OF THE CAR, NOW!!"

He pulled the gun out and stepped back a few feet. The one on my side did the same. I peed some more this time. RedRuM took his stocky frame and got out of the car.

"NIGGA! YOU KNOW WHO THE FUCK I AM??? I'M A MUTHAFUCKIN' BOSS!!! For real my nigga! I pay yo' fuckin' side salary!! You want me to fuckin' cut you off? Huh? You must not know I'm where all yo' fuckin' money comes from? Do you nigga? DO YOU???"

He grabs the officer by the wrist and from what it sounds like, he broke it in three places. He goes to the car and punches the camera system out all while the other officer looks on. RedRuM begins to walk over to him and he fires a shot. Being nervous he missed. RedRuM took his arm, forced him for punch himself with the gun and drug him over to the other officer. The crowd was taking video and clapping. They were going insane outside. I guess they thought it was a JBW publicity stunt considering he was still in his wrestling gear.

He crouched down next to them. The one officer almost weeping due to his broken wrist/hand... and the other one rubbing his head with a big welt on it. He was saying something very low to them and I couldn't hear what it was. I could see them through the driver side rear mirror but, didn't know what fully was going on. Finally they got up and went back into the car and pulled off. RedRuM grabbed the blunt. Saw that it went out, lit it up again and laughed as we drove off.

"We almost at my fuckin' crib nigga!" he said but, we were in Upper Manhattan... this couldn't be right... could it?

"When you get the fuck outta my car nigga, make sure you don't use your feet to keep the fuckin' door open. I see dirt on my shit, I'ma fuck your whole face up, Stick!"

Those were word to obviously not take likely... I nodded my head and when we pulled up to the at least 100 story brownstone overlooking pretty much everything. A valet raced to his car and RedRuM grabbed the Championship out of the console and went to the back and got his bag out of the back as well. He gave the valet what appeared a crisp one hundred dollar bill.

"One fuckin' mark... ONE FUCKIN' MARK ON MY SHIT AN' I'LL FUCKIN' KILL YOU AN' YO' WHOLE FUCKIN' FAMILY NIGGA!!"

He composed himself and patted the scared man on his shoulder. As I walked by him he muttered "Be careful with this one. He scares the shit out of me. Seriously..." he walked off and started the car. When he did he grinded a gear when shifting. RedRuM threw his bag down and ran to the car. He threw the door open and grabbed the guy out and started smacking his face. Open hand and back hand... he must have done it about 10 times each way. The man was crying and RedRuM dropped him.

"YOU GRINDED MY FUCKIN' GEARS NIGGA!! YOU FUCK MY FUCKIN' TRANSMISSION UP, I'MA KILL YOU!! THAT FUCKIN' CAR COST MORE THAN YOUR ENTIRE FUCKIN' LIFE!! REMEMBER THAT SHIT NIGGA!. REMEMBER IT!!!"

He kicked him and pulled him up. He dusted him off and sat him back in the seat. The man was trembling and weeping.

"Do it again. But this time, don't fuck with my shit."

He was trembling while trying to put the key in the ignition. When he finally settled enough he breathed deeply before turning the engine over. He went to go shift but looked at RedRuM first who was standing there with his arms crossed.

"Yeah nigga... be easy... be real fuckin' easy."

He said while tensing up. The guys shifted perfectly and RedRuM eased.

"Good nigga. Real good. You earned another day alive, bitch. Go take my shit where it belongs. I'ma be like 20 minutes... you better have that fuckin' thing back here by then and shined up... good?"

The valet nodded his head and proceeded to drive very slowly up the ramp. My jaw had to have been touching the ground because that was one of the most horrifyng things I saw... up to that point anyway. As we went to go into the main door, the door man opened it up and all I saw was crystal, gold and platinum. This place was immaculate. And this man lived here? I cannot wait to see what his place looks like...

While walking through the vast hallways of this building I saw so many stars in this one place. They all knew RedRuM as well. High fives, autographs, pictures, videos... it just kept going. I'm pretty sure we took an hour to get to his actual place. He had the top floor, the penthouse. Of course he did. How the hell much does JBW pay anyway? Apparently I need to start working there or something. We got to his door and it was painted black and red. The only door in the building this color. Obviously in his personal life... RedRuM is someone big time... we just don't know who.

As he opened the door... he looked back before we went in.

"You know Stick... you like, the first fuckin' reporter type nigga I ever let into my shit. That's somethin' special to me an' shit. I mean, I know you doin' your interview an all but like, don't report EVERYTHING in my shit. I don't need no one tryin' to like come steal anything from me, ya dig nigga?"

Of course I agreed with the man and he shook his head in approval. As he opened the door, I felt like Charlie going into Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory. It was amazing... amazing. He actually had everything set up VERY nicely. A beautiful brunette met us and took our coats and his bags. There was a man already playing the piano and a chef had made us a very large meal.

"Hold on in the livin' room Stick... I'ma change an I'll be back an' shit. Watch some TV or somethin'. I got every channel you can think of nigga. There's a bunch of stuff to drink in the fridge too, man."

Surprisingly enough, he was very nice when he entered his place. Humble almost. I wandered about and saw many things that surprised me. He was a fine art collector, he had a few things I obviously told him I wouldn't print and he had a nice statue collection as well. When he came back his bandana was still on but wrestling gear and mask were off. He's bald headed and laid back in his place... completely different. The maid from earlier came around with a platinum serving tray that had two blunts on them.

He picked one up and motioned for me to grab the other. We lit up and went into the living room. When we sat down an at least 150inch LED TV came out of the wall.

"Nigga, I told you to put somethin' on." He laughed. I laughed too and replied "Honestly sir, I didn't even know where to begin and I damn sure didn't want to touch something and break it." He looked at me and nodded his head again in approval. As we watched SportsCenter on ESPN and laughed at the bloopers, he finally looked over his shoulder and noticed the food that had been out for about an hour now.

He quickly leaped out of his seat and went to town on the food. He went to the piano player and whispered something to him. All of a sudden the man started to play Beethoven. Don't tell me he's actually highly educated and knows all of this stuff... if he did, why does he act the way he does in public?

His bandana was moved so, I have officially seen more of his face now than I think anyone had. I have a very good idea of who exactly he is but, I'm definitely keeping quiet on this one... it's way too big of a deal. We sat down finally after he was jiving to the music. And at the table we finally started a conversation and it was pretty interesting to say the least...

"So, what drew you into the world of violence and gangs?" I asked without hesitation. He dropped his fork and just stared at me. "See nigga.. this is how meals get ruined." He continued to stare. "Wh... what did I say so wrong?" I asked. "Well, how you jus' gon' jump right into that question an' shit? You could have at least started with somethin' small, nigga."

He put his head down and began playing with his food. "I... see, I had to provide my nigga. When you thirteen... yo' momma suckin' dick and hoe'in out right in front of you an' your little brother an lil' sister... it changes a nigga. My moms was a big feen... she didn't care who, what, where, when or why. As long as she got a hit, she was good."

He looked at the painting on the wall. It was of a black family, it was made with oils and on a flush canvas... my imagination is that this is his vision of his perfect family. Maybe all he wanted in life was a father figure?

"I was raised in the Chi-Town PJ's my nigga. Jus' tryin' to live with basically my kids. I know I started gang bangin' at like 15 but, sellin' drugs... that was 13 and definitely easy. Chicago is easy my nig. Like, when I was younger an' shit there'd be parties every day, all the times of the day too.

I was cakin' at a young age. I slipped up though one day... I was too busy hidin' my money in floor boards and didn't see moms standin' there. She screamed about me hiding money from her when I know she's sick. When she needs her "medicine"... I was tryin' to save money for when I could get me an' my fam a place, we'd be fine. I was using a bit here an there to feed my sibs.

When she found it, she took it all... she beat the hell out of me. I was bleedinn' all over an' shit... she went out an spent all o' my dough... she OD'd like twenty minutes later an shit. She was stumblin' 'round the apartment... she was foamin'... nigga... see what I mean by ruinin' a meal?"

I hadn't realized he went through so much trauma. I just naturally assumed that he watched music videos and "documentaries" about the lifestyle and all. I didn't know it was this bad. He put his bandana fully back over his mouth and walked away from the table... he mumbled about being back in a minute and to go into the den by the fireplace.

As I walked into the room, it was filled with nothing but pictures of his siblings, and their kids. Apparently they were in contact still but, one has to assume they were torn apart when 911 was called for the dying mother. It was a very tragic story so far...

Just letting you guys know, I'm taking a break on the story for now. Gonna pick up again when I come back to work later on tonight. Please leave some feedback for me though. It's been a long story driven night haha.