Was It Destiny?

I was kinda geeked to see Hot Chocolate after almost 18 months.  It was a last minute thing so I showed up in my work dress, but thank goodness that I got my new sexy shoes delivered earlier in the day.  They gave me an extra four and half inches of emergency sexy just in the nick of time.

I enter the spot.  It was mad hot outside so I was happy to get out of the heat.  Hot Chocolate is not there yet so I make my way to the bar to cop a couple of seats for us.  But guess who I see sitting there?

TIN MAN --- a.k.a. Ike Turner, a.k.a "The Artist Formerly Known as Pretty Brown."

I jumped like I saw a mouse.  I retreated and sat at the bar tables where his back would now be to me.  I gasped for air.  My heart was beating so fast.  I quickly tried to decide whether to leave or not.  I pull out the phone to text Hot Chocolate to meet me somewhere else.  But I wasn't sitting there one minute before the cocktail waitress trotted up to me with menus and asked me for my drink order.  Damn!  This was a fine time for this gal to do her job right!  Any other time I would have been sitting there waiting on someone to serve me - but nooooo, not today.  I wanted to go, but instead I mindlessly asked for a rum and coke.  Huh?  It was like it just came out of mouth without my approval or something.  Ugh.  So now I'm committed, I ordered a drink.  I'm texting Hot Chocolate asking where he is.  Maybe he was far enough away for me to gulp down the drink and bounce.

"I'm right down the street."

Oh lawd.  Ok.  Ok.  So what do I do?  What do I do?  I'm talking to myself.  I'm looking at Tin Man's back and saying, "He was mean to me.  He was mean to me."  I wanna be mad.  I wanna just ignore him.  But I know I can't do that.

I quickly sent a text to Kim asking her if I should speak to him or not.  As I'm waiting, I'm squirming in my seat because I gotta use the bathroom.  But I was frozen in my place because I have to pass him in order to get to it.  SHYT!  Come on Kim, call me back!  Please!

Hot Chocolate texts and says he can't find the place.  Good.  That gave me a couple of minutes to think.  Kim calls two minutes later.  Good azz friend.  She says "Go ahead and speak.  Just be cool."  She tries to ask me other things but I was just too overwhelmed to talk.  I had to get off that phone.

"Ok.  I'll speak", I told her before hanging up.

Hot Chocolate finally makes it.  Dayum he looked soooo good, but I couldn't even take it all in because Tin Man was in my midst and I thought he would turn around if he heard my voice.  I kept my voice low.  We chit chatted for a minute, and just as I was about to say let's go to another spot, here comes that damn cocktail waitress doing her job again!  He orders a drink.  Sigh.  I guess I'm staying now.  I can't wait another minute though.  I gotta go the bathroom.  Time to pass The Tin Man.  

Here. We. Go.

I walk over to Tin Man and tap him once on his back.  He turns and doesn't seem to recognize me at first (blame it on the new wig with the purple highlights :)).  Then in a few seconds he does.  We look at each other without saying a word.  Then he smiles - in disbelief if you ask me.

"Fancy seeing you here sir."  I kept my shades on because my eyes would tell him too much.

With a big smile he says, "I just got off work."

I extend my hand to shake his, but he stands up, kisses me on the cheek and gives me a hug.  Then I make small talk.  Very small talk.  Where did you come from?  How do you feel?  Then abruptly and without any expression I say, "I gotta go to the bathroom."

I walked away.  Did he watch me?  I wonder.

I enter the bathroom and put my face in my hands.  I can't believe this.  There are ten thousand bars in this city, and I end up going to one where the guy who shyt on my heart is having a damn Red Stripe.  I stand there for a few minutes buggin' out.

Then someone calls my

name  from the other side of the bathroom door.

"Yeah?"

"It's (Tin Man).  Can I talk to you?"

I open the door to come out looking confused, but he blocks my way.  He pushes me back inside the tiny bathroom and locks the door.

"What are you doing?"

With a strained face he says, "I'm sorry.  I'm sooooo sorry.  I miss you soooo much. 

I was wrong for being that way to you."

"What way?"

"Just everything.  I like you and I don't know what's wrong with me.  I don't like that I can't talk to you."

I couldn't speak.  I was in shock.  The emotion was building inside of me and I just want to cry behind my shades.  But I couldn't.  I wouldn't.

I just look down at the floor.  Speechless.  I felt my jaw tighten and I moved towards the door.

He reaches to take off my sunglasses.

"You look great."

I look and smile.  "Thank you.  Um, come on let's go now.  We gotta get out of this bathroom."

I look into his face waiting for him to open the door.  I look at his mouth.  His lips.  My heart is beating fast again.

He kisses me.  Hard.  I kiss him back.  He embraces me and the kisses become softer and more passionate.  I'm melting.  My head is swimming.  It's like I'm high or drunk.  This is not making any sense.  I forget where we are.  Things are moving too fast.  Too fast.  I feel my dress rising up my thigh, but I don't stop him.   He turns me around to the wall and then...I feel it.  I feel him.  I want to moan, but I hold it in.  I remember now.  We are in a NYC bathroom.  I gotta be quiet.  I gotta be quiet!

He feels so good.  So good.

Knock. Knock. Knock. 

"Uh, someone is in here.  You can use the guy's bathroom though." 

I quickly turn the water on but we don't stop.  When I hear the other bathroom door open and close, I turn to him and my eyes tell him to stop.  He does.  Tin Man smiles at me, pulls up his pants, and kisses my cheek. 

"Can I see you later?"

"Um, ok."

He touches my face and hugs me tightly.  "I miss you."

He walks out.  I check myself in the mirror, put my sunglasses back on, and walk back to
Hot Chocolate like nothing happened.

"Damn, where you been?"

"Sorry suga.  My mother called me and I was talking to her.  Want another drink?"

I smile, and take a sip of my drink --- all the while hiding the real truth behind my sexy sunglasses. 

Sensuality Tonight? - The Recap

I really hate that I didn't come out here the next day after the Sensuality Class because it actually was pretty cool.  I wanted to remember every little detail so I will do best to re-live the night.  I left there feeling kinda sexy.  I was meowing and purring all the way to the subway honey!  It was sexy up in there, for real.

For starters, the teacher wasn't exactly what I pictured in my head. I guess I was expecting somebody like Stiffler's mom to be teaching it....

Somebody that was oozing so much sex that I could take some home and sprinkle it on my food.  But nope.  Not at all. 

She was more like this:

No lie.  LOL.  The chick was straight outta the 60s---Yoko Ono hairdo, earthy looking, no makeup, and mad skinny.  She was just plain.  Regular.  So at first I was like what does this chick know about being sexy and sensual?   Cuz she sho' didn't look it.  So of course I was asking myself what in the world could this woman tell me about sensuality and being sexy. 

Then she started talking and boy was I wrong!  She was dropping the d*ck and f*ck word like it wasn't nothing.  It just goes to show you that you can't judge a book by its cover.  Like that chick from the movie American Pie, she looked and talked nerdy but then hopped on dude and said, "Say my name BITCH!"   Well just like I was surprised to see Miss Band Camp let her inner freak out, this instructor was a freak too.  So after about ten minutes of her rap to us, she had my TOTAL attention.


So again, this was kinda like a class.  She asked questions that your gynecologist probably wouldn't even ask.  She asked how many of us actually look at our va-jay-jay.  But she didn't say va-jay-jay of course , chick said it straight and plain, "When was the last time you looked at your pussy?"  BOOM.  The room fell silent, then a few people raised their hands.  That was sorta the ice breaker I guess.  I look at mine pretty regularly truth be told.  Giggle.  Especially when I'm using my toy.  Buying a bed with a mirror on the headboard was one of the smartest things I ever did.  Who knew that it would still bring me so much visual pleasure? 

Aiight so back to the class.   We did different activities that built us up to the grand finale.  The grand finale was that we had to go around and pick a question out of basket to answer.  And these weren't questions for the lightweights either.  The questions were straight freaky, no easy shyt, and didn't really let you skirt around answering things.  Yoko Ono shut that down if you tried though; you had to talk for two minutes on the question and she had a timer.  TWO WHOLE MINUTES.  That's a lot of time.  The more people talked, the more detail they had to give, because Yoko wouldn't let up.  So again, never judge a book by its cover, because those innocent chicks in that room started talking...and talking...and painting pictures for me that made squirm in my seat.  Black chicks, White chicks, foreign chicks, they all was up in there telling their tales. 

Then it was my turn. 

"What's your biggest fantasy?"

Not the freakiest question, but to talk about it for two minutes was not as easy as I thought.  Honestly, I don't really fantasize about what I would like to do sexually.  I probably fantasize more about being in love and someone liking me and me liking that person back with the same intensity.  Yeah...see that right there, that is what a damn fantasy is for me.  BEING IN LOVE, or having sex with someone that I love.  Sometimes that sounds soooo impossible.  Like a dream.  Love IS a fantasy as far as I'm concerned.

But if I do think about sexual thangs, it's more about who I was with and what we did.  I'm more into replaying sexual encounters in my mind for the most part.  The toys assist me as needed, but sometimes my mind does plenty enough.   I fantasize about past encounters, and then include the romantic and sweet things that I wish could have happened during that encounter.  I imagine stuff like the guy touching my face, whispering sweet nothings in my ear, intertwining his fingers with mine, or touching my hair (of course that's after I take the wig off, wash it, and flat iron it. Otherwise don't touch my chit!  Reminds of that Whip My Hair post that I had a while back.)   So when it was my turn to tell my fantasy, I had to think.  Hard.  I wanted my story to be genuine.  (Pause)  Thinking and thinking.  All eyes were on me and nothing would come out of my mouth.  So I went deep down and finally said it. 

"My fantasy is...

(drum roll)

To have a guy and a girl doing me." 

Big deal right?  Not earth shattering either.  But she gently pushed me to describe in detail what would happen.  And I did.  In front of ten women I did not even know.  It was a little uncomfortable, not because people were looking at me, but because I honestly hadn't thought about it or talked about it much.  Funny thing, to sit there and say it outloud was actually pretty liberating.  It really was.  To verbalize it like that to other people (not just some dude), made me want to make it happen.  The more I spoke the more I wanted to put the wheels in motion and make it a reality.  It was sounding so good that after I told my story I had to send a text to my jump off to come over.  I had too much sexual tension built up to let only the toy faciliate my fun that night.  I needed some dirty talk bad.

Hmmmm...I should write a blog entry on that fantasy so I can get into some detail.  I dunno, we will see. 

So I told my story, and I was kinda glad my turn was over.  But the other stories?  Wooo chile!  There was the most innocent, freckle faced, red haired chick in the room and her question was "What was the freakiest thing you ever did?"  She was very soft spoken, and very conservatively dressed. You know, just quiet looking. 

I was like expecting some wishy washy story from her but it was hardly that!  At first it sounded all cute and dreamy.  She was in a bar and meet this Navy dude in uniform.  They were talking.  Then they were dancing.  He told her she was sexy.  They hopped in a cab.  Then they were in a hotel room.  Then with the biggest smile on her face she said, "He f*cked the shyt outta me and it was so great!" 

I almost fell outta my chair.  What the hell?

That room had all the undercover chicks coming out of their shell.  Another Black chick talked about how much she liked to give blow jobs.  The story was starting off slow but Yoko quietly pushed her into talking more.  Man!  I have never heard d*ck sucking described in so much detail in my life.  She described how it felt in her mouth, how it felt when the guy is on the brink..."I love the feeling that he is under my control.  That I am controlling his pleasure."  She did a good azz job and painted a helluva picture I tell ya.  When her two minutes were up I thought she was gonna run out of the room as if she had just confessed to killing somebody.  You could tell it was a bit much for her to verbalize something that was just in her mind.  Hell, she made me wanna call somebody up for a BJ session myself.  She made it sound so sexy and sensual, not disgusting or dirty, and I thought that was so cool.

So I left the Sensuality Class feeling pretty good.  I felt sexy and liberated.  I told on myself and it actually wasn't THAT bad!  It was different than talking about things on the blog.  I felt as if I really wanted to make that fantasy happen too. This chick approached me at the end of the class and praised me for being honest and open.  She was like, "Do it.  I did."  (Another confession from an innocent looking white chick.)  Maybe talking on this blog has helped me to be more open about talking about my sexy though. In fact I know it has.  I'm not scared about what people think or what they will say or how high they raise their eyebrows when it comes to my sex life.  Ain't nobody gotta like what I do but me.  

What's next?  I have to think about who could set it up for me.  I mean I could do it, but I like the idea of someone else setting it up and choosing the players and the situation.  I just wanna show up ready to be pleased.  I want to be the Guest of Honor and the players prepare themselves for ME.  Unfortunately I don't have access to chicks like that; but I do have access to the men though.  I got one dude in mind, but I think his pool of contacts might have a Shenehneh or two in the mix.  Nuh uh!  I don't want anybody with bullet holes in their azz -- I want a sexy chick.  I remember a few years ago this dude I messing with was trying soooo hard to set up this threesome with another girl, but the mistake he made was that he seemed to want it to jump off for himself more than for the both of us.  When I picked up on that vibe it just turned me off.  We would be in the middle of doing it and then he would call up this 'prospect' so that she could hear me moaning or whatever.  But even with that, he just wasn't getting my head wrapped around the idea enough.  I mean I have done a threesome here or there in the past, but then I WAS trying to please somebody else at the time.  Not no mo' though.  It's gotta be about me too if I go there again. 

Wait a sec.  I met this dude on Match and he might be the one to do this!  He's like ten years younger than me, but man oh man, talk about somebody packing?  My lawd.  I just had to get a sample, I couldn't help myself once I felt it on my leg.  Giggle.  So maybe.  I'll put it out there and see what he says.  Honestly though, I think I would rather do that with two strangers than someone I know anyway.  For some reason I think that would be the best scenario.  We shall see.

In other news...

Guess who I'm gonna see tonight???  Hot Chocolate.  Yeah, that one who said he didn't want a Black chick (Cougarisms, I Don't Want A Black Chick).  I asked him if he wanted to have a drink last week and he said sure.  I haven't see him in a long time so we will just shoot the breeze. I already know the deal with this one so it won't be any haps -- he wants Asian booty only.  Hey that's fine.  I did a little research on that Asian fetish thing so I got it now.  I'm just glad that I can be in a place with past romantic interests where we can still hang out.  I don't know why some females think that is strange or weird though.  The main ones who always boast about "cutting" dudes off all the time be the most uptight, bitter, and the pickiest if you ask me.  And guess what?  They still end up with a buster every now and then any f*ckin' way!  So much for your high standards and character checklists.  LOL.  Oh and lemme tell you this too, you don't get a prize just because you ain't talking to a past fella anymore.  Big. F*ckin'.  Deal.  And I don't get a prize for continuing to talk to them either.  You ain't better than me and I'm not better than you so don't put yourself on a pedestal my dear.  You're not STRONGER than me, I think you are just more BITTER than me that's all.

I'm just having fun anyways.  And in three hours that's exactly what I'll be doing...having fun with Hot Chocolate, the Asian Booty Lover.  I'm sick of all of these relationship rules.  I do and see and talk to who I want.  

Booty Call Etiquette

Lawd have mercy on me for writing this, but after a recent encounter I feel that I must.

Can I talk about booty calls today? 
Or if booty call is too harsh and crude for some, I'll call it a 'grown and sexy rendevous'. 
But whatever you wanna call it, can I chat about it from a female perspective?

I'm not an expert on sex or men or anything, so what I write is just my thoughts on the whole booty call thing after a VERY INTERESTING evening with one particular brotha....

BOOTY CALL ETIQUETTE: 

(THIS IS JUST A RANT.  NOT TELLING ANYONE ELSE HOW TO CONDUCT THEIR BOOTY CALLS OK?)

Cardinal Rule #1 on Booty Call Etiquette

It's not just simply about getting the booty fellas. 

It's also about what you do prior to that. 
You need to warm the engine up before you wanna start driving.

Don't come to the door with your damn pants down and tongue hanging out like a hungry azz dog!

You just don't come to the door with a hard stick ready to f*ck! If you are looking and acting thirsty and you haven't been at my crib for ten minutes, I'm just gonna get turned off.  I mean I know why you're coming over, but damn, can you at least be calm, cool, and collected about the shyt?  Even in pornos they do some dumb dialogue in the beginnnng before things get started.  I mean thanks for being excited about seeing me but at least be smooth about it.   Don't be putting your paws all over me or try to ram your tongue down my throat like you're thirteen years old.  Don't rub my coochie all hard trying to burn my shyt.  Don't thrust your hand up my shirt grabbing my boobs like you trying to get my milk up for breast feeding.  Read the situation first and ease me into the mood - or at least try anyways.

Cardinal Rule #2 on Booty Call Etiquette

Don't show up empty here handed muthafucca.

Don't you dare show up at my spot empty handed you big dummy! Don't you dare.  Come bearing gifts, especially if this is your first time at my spot.  As a matter of fact, even if it is not a booty call yo azz better bring something if it is your first visit.  That means stop and get a bottle of wine BEFORE YOU GET HERE.  Ask me what I like to drink BEFORE YOU GET HERE and go pick it up.  Don't get here, realize your mistake, and then try to leave out trying to find an open liquor store.  Boy please.  Don't you know betta than to show up with nothing in your hand?   Plan ahead for goodness sake.  Stop and pick up something to set the mood for the situation beforehand and at least fake that you have a little swagger about yourself.  Damn bruh - why you making me stay sober?  I need the buzz so if you're dyck game is whack at least I get to keep the bottle that you brought.  And even if you're not down with bringing the alcohol, go get a bag of chips and some salsa.  Go to Popeye's and bring me a two piece.  Raisinets?  Flowers?  A plant? Something! 

And don't EVEN fix yo' mouth to ask if we could drink something from my stash either.  Hells no!  That stuff is for me, not you.  Ain't no way you're gonna come over and drink up my shyt AND get some coochie too.  You must be out of your damn mind. 

Cardinal Rule #3 on Booty Call Etiquette

Have what you need to get down to business.

So you ran to the gas station to get some condoms on the way here, and they didn't have the ones that you 'need'. 

"Oh these condoms are too tight."

"Oh these condoms are too thick."

"Oh I can't feel anything with these things, but that's all they had."

"I can't stay hard with these.  Damn."

Blah, blah, blah.  I don't want to hear that shyt!!!

Don't come over if you don't have the right tools to get the job done.  You are a grown azz man and you ain't no virgin.  You know what kind of condom works for you, so get the right ones before darkening my doorstep.  Remember this:  If this is your first time here you must bring your A-game!  Treat this like a job interview and talk your best game and be ready give your best performance.  I don't want to hear you blame the condom all night for your lack luster skills because I will immediately think that it's your dyck game that's the problem.  I'm naked and ready to go, so I damn well don't want to see you fighting with the condom trying to put it on your weenie!  That thing needs to be on in ten seconds or less.  That's it.  And please, spare me with your complaining.  I am not the naked customer service rep so I am not in the mood to hear your bitching.  What the f*ck did you think you would find at the gas station on the way here?  You know your dyck better than I do, so get the correct buns for your hot dog!  Soooo lame.  I'd rather you cancel the evening and not come over at all if you gonna whine about the condom all night. 

Cardinal Rule #4 on Booty Call Etiquette

Caressing you?  Not.

Unless we are kinda feeling each other on a mental/emotional level, don't tell me that you need to be stroked and touched tenderly in order to get excited.  I hate that.  You ain't caressing on me, and I can still manage to get moist, so why do you need me to put my arms around you and touch your face and stroke your back?  I mean I have no problem doing that if I am feeling that, but as soon as you indicate that you NEED that in order to stay hard and stay interested, then the first I'm thinking is:

What a big baby.

You'd be amazed how much guys need this caressing in order to stay excited. 

 "You haven't even touched me yet." 

You whining again?  Boo hoo hoo.  Didn't know I had to do all that in order for you to stay in the mood?  Reluctantly I try to oblige and just go ahead and do whatever it is he needs though.  "What do you want me to do?"  But if possible, can you leave this need out of the booty call situation?  I'm not an actress and it really is a bother to me sometimes.

Cardinal Rule #5 on Booty Call Etiquette

Spare me the excuses.

Remember that ghetto chick from Friday with Ice Cube when she said:

You ain't gotta lie Craig...

You ain't gotta lie.

If I like you, sure I would love for you to stick around after.  But if I don't, you can go after a half hour or so.  It's fine.  No explanation needed, and no need to make excuses.  If everything happened like I described above, I am probably ready for you to go anyway. LOL.  Get the fluck out!  Not much more I have to say on that topic.  Just go.  No speech necessary.

Bottom line, booty calls can be cool, and they can be whack.  I'm sure everyone has a whack story to tell about an encounter that they had in their past life.  All I'm saying is that, from a female perspective and being a woman of a certain age, be smooth about WHATEVER YOU DO.  Have some Boris Kodjoe and Usher Raymond swagger about it, because it really goes a looong way.  You want me to be sexy...bring it out of me!  Even if it was just about the sex...YOU STILL HAVE TO PUT IN SOME PREP WORK BRUH.  You can have the biggest and fattest dyck around, but you still gotta get me to want it.   

And that's that.

Sad to say that the above is a TRUE story too.  Bruh was just full of excuses.  I knew something was wrong when he said he dreamt that I took my hand and put it up his...

Ahem.

(clears throat)

I'll just stop there for now. Too funny. 

Lames come in all ages, education levels, and tax brackets.  Please believe that.

Next up...another Match date scorecard to post.  I gotta digress from all of this men talk too.  I have to talk about the biz competition I was in and the drama with this chick I tried to help win $10K down in ATL.  But I was the winner....hee hee.  More later! 

Like a Boy...

The other day I supressed the monster and threw the fish back.  But it didn't last for long.

I took out my fishing pole again, and again the same fish bit.  Easy.

I waited for him.  Called my friend and predicted what his sex and dyck game was gonna be like.  Making bets and shyt about how big his dyck might be and crap like that.  Just someone to be played.

So I waited.

And as soon as he said, "I'm outside"....the monster came. 

And I was mean.

I was a bytch.

I made no eye contact with him. 

"Kiss me."

"Nope.  No kissing", as I stared at the television set.

I treated him like an object.  I talked to him like I didn't care.

"But you gotta get to know me, and I gotta get to know you."

(Yeah but you wait until we get naked to say this?  GTFOH.)

But the monster said,  "No you don't.  You don't need to know me.  We both know why you're here, so why do I need to 'know' anything about you?  What for?"

And he looked baffled.  Probably surprised because he thought I was soooo nice.  But when he took the p*ssy bait that all changed.  Miss Nice became the monster. 

And that was that.

"Should I let myself out?"

"Yep." 

I didn't even look at him.

Honestly though,  I feel kinda bad about it.  Someone was mean to me and I turned around and did it to someone else.  I know it wasn't right.  I know.  But I couldn't help myself.  Something else took control of me.  It was like I turned into...

A BOY.

(sings)

You don't listen to him.  You don't care how it hurts...
Cause I'm just a boy...

It didn't feel good, but it didn't feel bad either.  I think I understand things a lot better now.  I guess if you are mean to enough people you start not to feel any particular way at all about it anymore.

Hmmmm.  Just a like a boy.

And maybe just like me?

:/

Day #621: The "F*ck Off" Brick

You're never too old to throw one...


or get hit by one.


Today, I got hit with the worst kind of brick..."THE FUCK OFF BRICK".


HARD.


I might do something messed up.  Make a mistake doing something with someone I know I don't like.  Use him and say "Get the f*ck out".  I feel the urge burning inside of me...like a monster.


I hope I can control myself.  And not do that.


I don't know though.  Already took out my fishing pole and got a fish.  Too easy.

I hope I can just throw him back.

I don't know. 

(head in my hands)

I just don't know. 



UPDATE:  I threw him back.  For now.

Pathetic.

I know that man ain't thinking about me.

But no matter how busy I am,
And what I have going on with other fellas,
My mind manages to find a place for him.
And I wish,
Still wish that things could have been different.
But they will never, ever be different.
Things will be EXACTLY how I experienced them.
Nothing will change.
He will be the same ol' Ike Turner.
Mean and heartless.
Self serving and uncaring.

But yet,
I still wish for him.
 Like a fool.

And I bet.
I just bet.
That the next chick...he marries. 
Because that's the way those things always goes.
They seem to marry the NEXT ONE.
Like they miraculously figure out how to be right and do right for the NEXT ONE.
Just cray-zee.

I fought.  I took chances. 
Put myself out there, just to walk away with cuts and bruises.
And watch and see what happens now.
The next chick will come along and snag him,
Breezy and easy.
Like it was nothing.
He'll act right for her.
But he couldn't,
Wouldn't do it for me.

And then I will do what I always do,
Question myself,
Again and again until I'm sick in the head.
Asking myself,

Why. Not. Me?

(tapping fingers on desk)

Letting go is tough.
It takes time,
I just wish "time" would hurry up and get here.
But for now,
I'll be a little bit pathetic.
And continue to wish for someone not worth wishing for.

Like the fool that I am.
Like the fool I now admit that I was.

Pathetic.

I Thought We Had This Conversation Bruh?

Here we go again.

So at 8:15 in the morning you send me this text:

"Good morning.  I have a question for you and keep it real.  R u fucking with someone from the bar or in (city)?  Yes or no."


"Ok what did you hear this time?"


"Yes or no"


"Here we go again.  Sigh."


"Ur not answering the question"


"Call me.  Not gonna be texting convos today."

THE PHONE CALL:

"Ok so what's going on?  Why are you asking me that?"


"Cuz I just wanna know.  It's a simple yes or no question."


"Ok so why are you asking?"


"Why are you dancing around the question and not answering."


"Because for one thing, you don't ask me a question like that, 'Are you fucking with someone else...'.  I'm not your girl, baby momma, or your niece.  You don't pose a question to me like that."


"But you're dancing around the question.  You making me think it's true."


"Man look, ain't nobody dancing around anything.  Tell me why you're asking and then I'll answer."

Click.

Uh huh.  He hung up.  See, he's gettin' too caught up.

Just like my You Cannot Catch Feelings post said,  if we are on a Coochie Contract, you do not wonder what I do with other people!!!  I never ask what you do or who you do it with, cuz the contract doesn't allow it.  But once you start asking those type of questions, you start crossing over into "You're my woman" territory--and you never stop asking.  It will keep coming up every once in a while and causing arguments.  It all just becomes a big ole mess and then we start arguing like we are a couple.  A couple.  Whoa.  This is when it all has to stop.


Now in this case, whoever told this fool that I was dealing with somebody in the bar is lying.  Real talk.  I know now after messing with this one not to go there again.  But my question is, why the hell is somebody bringing me up to him anyway?  Hmmmm.  You know why?  Because the person who told this fool KNOWS that he is that 'somebody I'm f*ckin' with".  That's what I think.  Or it could be his food stamp scamming niece who was in the bar the other night.  She probably told him something crazy too.  Yeah I flirt when I am bartending...because I'm trying to get tips from these cheap azz muthafuccas!  Don't you get it!  It's A JOB!  Not a fuggin' d*ck buffet.  All that's on the menu there is a bunch of low functioning-low ambition-never eating vegetables-no credit having-three baby having dudes.  I can find a dude like that any damn where, so WHY THE FLUCK would I choose one from where I work.  Yeah I know.  I got this one from there, but never again.

So after alla that texting back and forth, I sent him a text saying that it was over.

"Wow, just because I asked you a question?"

Yep!  And also because you're a repeat offender too.  This is the second time he has tried to come at me with some stuff he heard, and I am not down with having to explain what I do when I am not around you Mister Man.  And I don't justify or acknowledge "Tales from the Hood" and other ghetto gossip either.  I ain't got time for jealous acting d*ck roster candidates.  I don't do well with those type of guys AT ALL. 


So it's done.  Too bad.  He's actually a nice guy though.  But I think he might get hurt eventually with this 'open' relationship thing we got going.  I'm not surprised though.  Truth be told, most guys can't handle that.  Even if they got somebody else, and dealing with you too, they seem to not be able to handle the female kickin' it with anyone else but them.  Their egos won't allow it.

Cardinal Rule No.3 for a D*ck Roster Candidate:

If he starts catches feelings, pull back. 

Especially if you know he really ain't boyfriend potential anwyay. 

Just find you another one.  It'll much easier - for both of you.

What a waste.  He was actually kind of cool to be around, but it's gettin' too heavy.

So off to The Friend Zone he goes!

Next.