Uncontested ratchetness.

Upon further review, I met with the council (it consists 3 members: me, myself, and I) and have determined that the trio I shared an elevator with in Atlanta may have been the most ratchet group I've ever been in the presence of. Here's the kicker...nothing dramatic happened. Usually when you think of ratchetness, someone is being loud, ignorant, belligerent, inappropriate, etc. 90% of that didn't happen. I was riding the elevator down to the hotel lobby with a friend and we stop on a floor where three individuals enter the elevator. As soon as the doors open, the smell of weed (possibly with something extra involved as well) and just a little bit of cheap "smell good" (possibly Axe) punch me in the face like a quick jab to the nose...on an elevator. It takes me 10 seconds to remember that's it's not even lunch time yet. That's what Snoop used to call "the wake and bake" I guess. As they have a calm, louder than normal but not yet inappropriate conversation about their respective choice of drug to help them sleep soundly through a long plane ride, I take a closer look at them one-by-one. There are two women and one guy, all in about their late 20s or early 30s. The guy has on a smedium V-neck white tee, keeping the shirt simple so the jewelry on his neck and wrist can steal the show; also to put the interconnected tats covering his arms, chest, and neck on display. The belt on his jeans is keeping them secured right at the very bottom of his butt, entire ass full of drawls on display because of aforementioned smedium shirt. He has a flame like design on the side of his head, the type you probably couldn't wear to a good job because it would be seen as unprofessional. The first woman I see is a thick chick (a lotta woman) who is wearing an outfit she clearly bought 30 lbs (12 of those in the stomach) ago. Her weave was either 6 weeks old, or was only worth about $6, I'm not sure which. It looked like recycled roadkill.  The other visual catastrophe from where I was standing (behind her) was the colorful yet indistinguishable tattoo running from one shoulder to the other. I couldn't figure out the motivation of it...or the purpose. The second woman was about as thick but slightly more dumpy. She had the official hoodrat "I want hair down to my butt but bangs to my eye lashes in the front" weave; which she was scratching profusely with her acrylic nails. Her clothing selection seemed to be an attempt to taste the rainbow; I couldn't establish which colors were dominant and therefore which colors didn't match the others. She had "unprofessional piercings" (I'm a fan of sexy piercings on sexy ppl, on her, it just looked nasty) and her tattoos likely numbered in the dozens. One tattoo in particular caught my attention and may have been the most ratchet in my memory. She had the Louis Vuitton pattern going from her shoulder to her elbow area. Not one symbol, not one strip of it, her entire upper arm had the pattern of a handbag. I'm glad they never turned around and saw me, I was stuck between contemplating a laugh and a look of awe from what I was witnessing. They were putting an all out assault on almost all of my senses; the smell was so pungent that I felt like they would taste terribly as well. It was simultaneously entertaining, informative, and embarrassing as a young Black observer of this. I never thought I'd see that level of ratchetness in calm situation. U learn something every day I guess. Am I being overly judgemental? Maybe. I've Been Called Worse...