You ever you talk to someone you haven’t talked to in a while and you think to yourself, man I’m glad things worked out the way they did?
I JUST had one of those moments, with a Random Negro. (Were you really expecting it to be anyone else?)
Let’s call him Conspiracy Theory. We met sometime around last winter, maybe around February or so. We had one date. I remember we met up somewhere downtown DC and he was late as hell. I chewed him out about it and he was like we don’t have to do this but I really want to because you’re cute.
I melted. I should have reactivated the icebox where my heart used to be.
He spent most of the time talking about his ex and that 2012 doomsday/conspiracy theory stuff. At the time I’d never heard of it and I just thought he was cuckoo for cocoa puffs. I’m still not buying it. Maybe I’ll ask my local congressman to start a task force to edumacate me.
Anyway I’m taking entirely too long to get to the point. He contacted me on yahoo messenger, asked how I’ve been, yada yada yada. I told him I moved to Baltimore and am in a relationship now. He congratulated me and then told me that love wasn’t for him.
I asked why and he said that he just got played recently and ended up in the hospital. Apparently he was seeing this girl and her baby daddy came after him with a pipe. He retaliated with a machete and was actually bragging about getting off scott-free.
This would be the point where I said a silent “thank the Lord” for things having worked out the way they did.
Looking back I remember being disappointed that we never had a second date. When we met I was in the middle of transitioning and after our date I cut my hair off in the spring. I told him about it and sent him a pic and never heard from him after that. Well that’s not entirely true, he did tell me that I should have known what I was doing when I decided to chop all my hair off. Then I didn’t hear from him again.
Until now. He wrapped up the convo telling me to be careful dealing with Baltimore dudes and to—get this—“live long and prosper.” Who says that?
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Take ‘Em Back Tuesday: Find My Family
Last night I got sucked in to watching ABC’s Find My Family, because some damn Carrie Underwood Fox All-Star Holiday Special bumped Lie to Me off the line up. Ugh I need to get my local Congressman to sanction Fox for it’s poor scheduling decisions.
Anyway, Find My Family chronicles the reuniting of adopted children with their birth families. Now I'm not adopted, but I do have three “new” siblings I discovered a few years ago. The show got me to thinking about how I found my family, or should I say how my family found me.
Oddly enough the story starts out much like a Random Negro tale would—with a message on Myspace. I'm not sure if I ever told you guys this story, but it's interesting and is worth re-telling if I have.
So anyway, around July/August of 2007 I got a note from a dude commenting on my smile or something. We exchanged messages for about a week, even communicated by instant message, but never got to the phone call stage.
During that same time period I got a Myspace message from an older woman stating that I should contact her because she knew my mother and thought that we were related. I was confused as hell but wrote her back anyway. Turned out that she was my sister from my biodad. Now, let me be clear here: I've had zero contact with my bio dad post any age that I could actually remember having a biodad. All of this was a complete shock. She told me I had two other sisters as well—one older than her (who she shares the same mother with) and one younger than me (who has a different mom).
We (myself and the two older ones living in the area) agreed to meet up at a restaurant and while there they dropped a bomb on me. The dude that contacted me just a few days before they wrote me is their BROTHER. Yes, they used him as bait to be sure that I was checking my Myspace account. My mouth literally dropped open. I couldn’t believe it. I felt weird after that thinking about the convos that we had. I don't recall them being sexual or anything but they were definitely flirty. Ewww flirting with my half-sisters' brother. I eventually ended up meeting him at a family gathering they invited me to and it was just weird. They didn't have to trick me like that. That was foul.
Anyway, Find My Family chronicles the reuniting of adopted children with their birth families. Now I'm not adopted, but I do have three “new” siblings I discovered a few years ago. The show got me to thinking about how I found my family, or should I say how my family found me.
Oddly enough the story starts out much like a Random Negro tale would—with a message on Myspace. I'm not sure if I ever told you guys this story, but it's interesting and is worth re-telling if I have.
So anyway, around July/August of 2007 I got a note from a dude commenting on my smile or something. We exchanged messages for about a week, even communicated by instant message, but never got to the phone call stage.
During that same time period I got a Myspace message from an older woman stating that I should contact her because she knew my mother and thought that we were related. I was confused as hell but wrote her back anyway. Turned out that she was my sister from my biodad. Now, let me be clear here: I've had zero contact with my bio dad post any age that I could actually remember having a biodad. All of this was a complete shock. She told me I had two other sisters as well—one older than her (who she shares the same mother with) and one younger than me (who has a different mom).
We (myself and the two older ones living in the area) agreed to meet up at a restaurant and while there they dropped a bomb on me. The dude that contacted me just a few days before they wrote me is their BROTHER. Yes, they used him as bait to be sure that I was checking my Myspace account. My mouth literally dropped open. I couldn’t believe it. I felt weird after that thinking about the convos that we had. I don't recall them being sexual or anything but they were definitely flirty. Ewww flirting with my half-sisters' brother. I eventually ended up meeting him at a family gathering they invited me to and it was just weird. They didn't have to trick me like that. That was foul.
Monday, December 7, 2009
New Hairs
“Every week you’ve got new hair.”
That's what my supervisor says to me today from across the room—just before a meeting starts. Yea. I just smiled and said yep.
I don't care about “hair story time lines” so I'll go from rocking my natural hair in a twist out, to slapping on my lace front in 1.2 days flat. LOL. I should do a roller set on my hair tonight so that can be a whole 'nother look for her.
My hair is more of an accessory than anything else and I love to change it up when the mood strikes me. Why can’t they understand that? I think I'm going to ask my local congressman to fund a cultural hair diversity grant program in the workplace. I'm doing my part to encourage workplace diversity awareness. Oooh I wonder if I could get a weave reimbursement. Things that make you go hmmm....
On another “new hair” topic, I've recently discovered that I have not one but two chin hairs. Where in the ham sandwich did these suckers come from and why don't they go back? We don't want or need you here.
They aren't visible until you get right up on me, but I'm not pleased that they are there. When I discovered them I tried taking pics but they wouldn't come out clear. My BF told me I was the weirdest person he knows for trying to capture my chin hair's debut on film.
I thought about “gelling” them back so at least they wouldn't stick out. LOL. I'm scared to pluck or wax them because I don't want more of their friends to join them when they decide to grow back and turn me into some kind of bearded lady. No thanks. I don't know what to do. So for now they are staying right where they are.
That's what my supervisor says to me today from across the room—just before a meeting starts. Yea. I just smiled and said yep.
I don't care about “hair story time lines” so I'll go from rocking my natural hair in a twist out, to slapping on my lace front in 1.2 days flat. LOL. I should do a roller set on my hair tonight so that can be a whole 'nother look for her.
My hair is more of an accessory than anything else and I love to change it up when the mood strikes me. Why can’t they understand that? I think I'm going to ask my local congressman to fund a cultural hair diversity grant program in the workplace. I'm doing my part to encourage workplace diversity awareness. Oooh I wonder if I could get a weave reimbursement. Things that make you go hmmm....
On another “new hair” topic, I've recently discovered that I have not one but two chin hairs. Where in the ham sandwich did these suckers come from and why don't they go back? We don't want or need you here.
They aren't visible until you get right up on me, but I'm not pleased that they are there. When I discovered them I tried taking pics but they wouldn't come out clear. My BF told me I was the weirdest person he knows for trying to capture my chin hair's debut on film.
I thought about “gelling” them back so at least they wouldn't stick out. LOL. I'm scared to pluck or wax them because I don't want more of their friends to join them when they decide to grow back and turn me into some kind of bearded lady. No thanks. I don't know what to do. So for now they are staying right where they are.
Friday, December 4, 2009
Random Negro Stories File: Down For the Cause
On my way back to the office from an impromptu trip to Whole Foods, a guy approached me.
His opening line: The sun is shining now that I see your face.
Huh. Oh did I mention that it’s overcast out? Right. So you know I gave him the side eye.
Now he wasn’t trying to holla or anything but I should have seen it coming especially since he walked right up on this man that was walking a few steps ahead of me. At first I thought he knew him because he had his hand out ready to shake the guys hand and said “My man…”The guy ducked and dodged him and I tried to do the same but he continued to walk down the street with me.
He was in plain clothes so I bet he was one of those Lyndon LaRouche people. Man they are slick and will roll up on you at any time. I remember I was in college and one of them chased me down hill to a McDonalds trying to get me to listen to whatever it is he had to say. I need to get my local Congressman to draft a guidebook for overly enthusiastic policy advocates, because seriously they need to respect people’s personal space. There is no reason that I should have to run from these people.
Anyway he’s all talking about how we need to become friends, but all I can think is I don’t feel like listening to your spiel about whatever it is he’s trying to get me to do/buy/believe in. I was not in the mood to be subject to any cult recruiting. I had to get back to work! LOL. He finally gave up when I kept my face straight and kept walking away.
His opening line: The sun is shining now that I see your face.
Huh. Oh did I mention that it’s overcast out? Right. So you know I gave him the side eye.
Now he wasn’t trying to holla or anything but I should have seen it coming especially since he walked right up on this man that was walking a few steps ahead of me. At first I thought he knew him because he had his hand out ready to shake the guys hand and said “My man…”The guy ducked and dodged him and I tried to do the same but he continued to walk down the street with me.
He was in plain clothes so I bet he was one of those Lyndon LaRouche people. Man they are slick and will roll up on you at any time. I remember I was in college and one of them chased me down hill to a McDonalds trying to get me to listen to whatever it is he had to say. I need to get my local Congressman to draft a guidebook for overly enthusiastic policy advocates, because seriously they need to respect people’s personal space. There is no reason that I should have to run from these people.
Anyway he’s all talking about how we need to become friends, but all I can think is I don’t feel like listening to your spiel about whatever it is he’s trying to get me to do/buy/believe in. I was not in the mood to be subject to any cult recruiting. I had to get back to work! LOL. He finally gave up when I kept my face straight and kept walking away.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
It's been a long time...I shouldn'ta left you...
Oh my word, this here blogger thingy says I haven’t been on here since May 11, 2009. My how time flies. If any of you that have been reading this blog are still around, here’s what I’ve been up to (in no particular order):
1. The Boy and I broke up, shortly after that last blog. I complained about us not spending enough quality time together after he canceled a series of dates. His paranoid ass broke up with me because he was convinced that I would cheat on him--based on the fact that the gf before me did.
2. Said breakup led to a solo summer trip to Atlanta (previously planned for The Boy to accompany moi) where I ended up meeting the current boo (online of course, y’all know I loves me some innanet menz. lol).
3. Yes, I said current boo. I’m afraid to even write about him here because this blog has cursed my relationships I swear.
4. My grandma died (RIP Dora Enid!)
5. I went on a fab girls trip to New Orleans for the Essence Music Festival (I’m still not over Maxwell’s ass coming on the stage all late and keeping me from sipping hurricanes and hand grenades on Burbon Street. BTW, public drinking really should be allowed in more cities, write your local Congressman about that!)
6. I went natural—after 10 months of transitioning. I cut off about 7 inches of relaxed hair.
7. I survived a 40+ person layoff at my company after a merger.
8. I moved to Baltimore.
9. I bough my first LaceFront wig.
10. I cooked 96 percent of a Thanksgiving dinner from scratch (I used premade pie shells for my sweet potato pie and I doctored up some boxed stuffing. But the chicken, candied yams, macaroni and cheese, collard greens, red velvet cake, and yeast rolls—ALL ME BABY!)
11. I started P90X and Fat Smash (Yes I know this is like the kabillionth time I’ve started FS, but I’m determined to make this thing work for me.)
So now that we’re all caught up, what y’all been up to?
1. The Boy and I broke up, shortly after that last blog. I complained about us not spending enough quality time together after he canceled a series of dates. His paranoid ass broke up with me because he was convinced that I would cheat on him--based on the fact that the gf before me did.
2. Said breakup led to a solo summer trip to Atlanta (previously planned for The Boy to accompany moi) where I ended up meeting the current boo (online of course, y’all know I loves me some innanet menz. lol).
3. Yes, I said current boo. I’m afraid to even write about him here because this blog has cursed my relationships I swear.
4. My grandma died (RIP Dora Enid!)
5. I went on a fab girls trip to New Orleans for the Essence Music Festival (I’m still not over Maxwell’s ass coming on the stage all late and keeping me from sipping hurricanes and hand grenades on Burbon Street. BTW, public drinking really should be allowed in more cities, write your local Congressman about that!)
6. I went natural—after 10 months of transitioning. I cut off about 7 inches of relaxed hair.
7. I survived a 40+ person layoff at my company after a merger.
8. I moved to Baltimore.
9. I bough my first LaceFront wig.
10. I cooked 96 percent of a Thanksgiving dinner from scratch (I used premade pie shells for my sweet potato pie and I doctored up some boxed stuffing. But the chicken, candied yams, macaroni and cheese, collard greens, red velvet cake, and yeast rolls—ALL ME BABY!)
11. I started P90X and Fat Smash (Yes I know this is like the kabillionth time I’ve started FS, but I’m determined to make this thing work for me.)
So now that we’re all caught up, what y’all been up to?
Monday, May 11, 2009
Random Negro Stories File: The Gawker
Hey Peoples! I'm falling back in love with my blog so you guys get a new story. Yay!
I thought that my booedupdom would mean the beginning of the end of the Random Negro Stories File, but I now realize that as long as I am a woman I will continue to encounter random Negroes. This is great! Well at least for the blog.
Anyway, so Friday I inadvertently ended up kicking it with my BF (who will from now on be called The Boy) and his friends. We were just supposed to kick it for a minute after I got off work and then he’d take me home before going to go hang out with the boys.
We ended up doing all this running around and by the time we got around to getting something to eat it was too late for him to take me home before heading to the movies with his friends. Sadly KFC was the healthiest fast food option and we had to bypass one because the line was off the chain. I blame Oprah and her damn free chicken coupons.
Finally, after picking up two of his friends and making a pit stop to his house and the bank, we make it to the movies. He introduces me to the friends I hadn’t met previously and we settle into our seats.
After the movie one of his friends, who we’ll call The Gawker, is all like I can’t believe The Boy has a girlfriend. He’s like I’ve got to take a picture, because no one is going to believe this. So he pulls out his camera phone and The Boy and I pose for a picture. A little later we’re walking back towards our cars and The Gawker says out of nowhere—and all out loud—“And she got body.”
I, equally as loud say, “Wooooooow. Really.” The Boy, who was at my side gets behind me and says, “Stop looking at my girlfriends ass.”
I was stunned. Like really, not only are you ogling your friend’s girlfriend but you do it out loud—not only in earshot of your boy, but his girl too. I need y’all to weigh in on this. I hope in the 25 subscribers to this here blog, some of y’all are men. Help me out here. Aren’t there Man Laws against this? If not, let’s get my local Congressman to work on this.
I thought that my booedupdom would mean the beginning of the end of the Random Negro Stories File, but I now realize that as long as I am a woman I will continue to encounter random Negroes. This is great! Well at least for the blog.
Anyway, so Friday I inadvertently ended up kicking it with my BF (who will from now on be called The Boy) and his friends. We were just supposed to kick it for a minute after I got off work and then he’d take me home before going to go hang out with the boys.
We ended up doing all this running around and by the time we got around to getting something to eat it was too late for him to take me home before heading to the movies with his friends. Sadly KFC was the healthiest fast food option and we had to bypass one because the line was off the chain. I blame Oprah and her damn free chicken coupons.
Finally, after picking up two of his friends and making a pit stop to his house and the bank, we make it to the movies. He introduces me to the friends I hadn’t met previously and we settle into our seats.
After the movie one of his friends, who we’ll call The Gawker, is all like I can’t believe The Boy has a girlfriend. He’s like I’ve got to take a picture, because no one is going to believe this. So he pulls out his camera phone and The Boy and I pose for a picture. A little later we’re walking back towards our cars and The Gawker says out of nowhere—and all out loud—“And she got body.”
I, equally as loud say, “Wooooooow. Really.” The Boy, who was at my side gets behind me and says, “Stop looking at my girlfriends ass.”
I was stunned. Like really, not only are you ogling your friend’s girlfriend but you do it out loud—not only in earshot of your boy, but his girl too. I need y’all to weigh in on this. I hope in the 25 subscribers to this here blog, some of y’all are men. Help me out here. Aren’t there Man Laws against this? If not, let’s get my local Congressman to work on this.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Random Negro Stories File: Samson Strikes Back
Two blogs in two days. I know you guys are like super shocked, but I just had to come back and update you guys on the Samson situation.
So it turns out that I jumped the gun in naming my previous post “Samson’s Last Request.” I probably should have checked my myspace messages before I posted the blog, but I don’t really be on there like that anymore.
But here’s what I discovered when I logged in this morning (from Samson of course) typos and all:
It was nice talking to you yesterday. To bad we couldn't be friends but I'm glad you finally found that one man that you're on the same page with.
I wish it could have been me but I'm not a hatter just a congratulater so you're still cool peoples with me. Let me know when you have a get together so I can finally meet the man that got on the same page as you since it was impossible for me.
;o)
I guess what they say is true there is someone out here for everyone. Well I'm still single so I guess I'll run into that someone for me someday until then if you have any friends or associates that you think would click with me, then let me know. Hook a brother up.
I, for the life of me can’t understand why he’s so hell bent on meeting my BF. I talked to my trusty male adviser about it, and he said there were a few things going on:
a. he’s trying to say my expectations were too high, and he wants to stick around for when we break up
b. he’s looking for chinks in the armor, of my “perfect” dude
c. he thinks if he can keep me talking then all is not lost
Even thoough, I didn’t respond to that message I’m not sure that’s the last I’ll hear from dude. My male adviser tells me, dudes have no time limits. I wonder if my local Congressman would favor instituting a statute of limitations for these types of things. I’ll ask.
So it turns out that I jumped the gun in naming my previous post “Samson’s Last Request.” I probably should have checked my myspace messages before I posted the blog, but I don’t really be on there like that anymore.
But here’s what I discovered when I logged in this morning (from Samson of course) typos and all:
It was nice talking to you yesterday. To bad we couldn't be friends but I'm glad you finally found that one man that you're on the same page with.
I wish it could have been me but I'm not a hatter just a congratulater so you're still cool peoples with me. Let me know when you have a get together so I can finally meet the man that got on the same page as you since it was impossible for me.
;o)
I guess what they say is true there is someone out here for everyone. Well I'm still single so I guess I'll run into that someone for me someday until then if you have any friends or associates that you think would click with me, then let me know. Hook a brother up.
I, for the life of me can’t understand why he’s so hell bent on meeting my BF. I talked to my trusty male adviser about it, and he said there were a few things going on:
a. he’s trying to say my expectations were too high, and he wants to stick around for when we break up
b. he’s looking for chinks in the armor, of my “perfect” dude
c. he thinks if he can keep me talking then all is not lost
Even thoough, I didn’t respond to that message I’m not sure that’s the last I’ll hear from dude. My male adviser tells me, dudes have no time limits. I wonder if my local Congressman would favor instituting a statute of limitations for these types of things. I’ll ask.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Random Negro Stories File: Samson's Last Request
Hey peoples. I know it’s been a looooooong time. But the Random Negro Stories have been on hiatus because well, I’m booed up. Yes, officially. And it’s not even Winter Bun Season. Go me!
But guess what?!? I got one hot off the presses for y’all.
So yesterday I was on myspace on my phone, trying to figure out if I could update my relationships status without effing my profile up. I did not succeed, so I take a look at my inbox and see what’s been going on.
Right at the top is a message from DRUMROLL PLEASE, Samson!
Yes! I could have sworn the last time we exchanged messages on there that I told him it wasn’t a good idea to try to force a friendship. He is the most persistent man I have ever encountered in my life.
For whatever reason (shits and giggles mostly) I write him back. Nothing special. Just say that I’ve been good and ask the same of him.
Then if that weren’t enough, why do I run into this bamma on the train!
So of course he bombards me with a whole bunch more questions: do I still live in the same place, am I still working two jobs, how’s my car situation going, and of course the question of all questions—have you found that man that’s on your level yet?
I answer that last one in the affirmative and he’s all like I need to meet this dude. WTF? Dude we are not friends. Why would I even consider that proposition? How am I supposed to explain that to the BF? What the hell do you say? “Yeah honey, this dude that was trying to holla at me for the longest wants to meet you. Maybe we can do brunch?” He must think I’m a damn fool. Maybe his braids (yes he still has them joints—and he’s 30) were too tight. I’m gonna ask my local Congressman to get some laws in place to fine men over the age of 22 who are still wearing cornrows. Hell I might ask him to take it further and fine any stylists caught braiding them up.
Anyway, I just laugh him off and go wait for my bus home.
But guess what?!? I got one hot off the presses for y’all.
So yesterday I was on myspace on my phone, trying to figure out if I could update my relationships status without effing my profile up. I did not succeed, so I take a look at my inbox and see what’s been going on.
Right at the top is a message from DRUMROLL PLEASE, Samson!
Yes! I could have sworn the last time we exchanged messages on there that I told him it wasn’t a good idea to try to force a friendship. He is the most persistent man I have ever encountered in my life.
For whatever reason (shits and giggles mostly) I write him back. Nothing special. Just say that I’ve been good and ask the same of him.
Then if that weren’t enough, why do I run into this bamma on the train!
So of course he bombards me with a whole bunch more questions: do I still live in the same place, am I still working two jobs, how’s my car situation going, and of course the question of all questions—have you found that man that’s on your level yet?
I answer that last one in the affirmative and he’s all like I need to meet this dude. WTF? Dude we are not friends. Why would I even consider that proposition? How am I supposed to explain that to the BF? What the hell do you say? “Yeah honey, this dude that was trying to holla at me for the longest wants to meet you. Maybe we can do brunch?” He must think I’m a damn fool. Maybe his braids (yes he still has them joints—and he’s 30) were too tight. I’m gonna ask my local Congressman to get some laws in place to fine men over the age of 22 who are still wearing cornrows. Hell I might ask him to take it further and fine any stylists caught braiding them up.
Anyway, I just laugh him off and go wait for my bus home.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Random Negro Stories File: Return of the Bison/One Degree of Separation
I’m convinced that God uses my dating life for his personal entertainment. You know what’s coming: another installment of Random Negro Stories File. Yippee!
This one features an oldie but goodie: The Bison.
I told y’all about how since the break-off dude hit me up like a month later, making small talk and I pretty much shut him down. Well since then I discovered that he reconnected with the chick he might be talking to (since I can’t definitively say that he is) just a few days after he stood me up. Facebook gives out waaaay too much information. I have to stop e-stalking people because I always find out stuff that I could have lived without knowing.
Then the other day I log into my yahoo personals account and guess who these folks have matched me up with. Yep. The Bison. So I was confused because as far as Facebook tells me (LOL), he’s still dating that girl. So why is he on Yahoo Personals? Of course you know I clicked on his profile, just to see how he advertises himself and after reading it I wish I hadn’t because it wasn’t worth him being able to see that I had viewed his profile. LOL.
So anyway, because that wouldn’t be a random enough story, guess out of all people the in the world who walked into the doors of my new church home: The Bison, and his “new chick.”
They were sitting in the front row, so I’m not sure if he saw me when I walked by to put my offering in the basket, but as I was leaving I got cornered by a church lady and almost ended up bumping into him. I haven’t seen him since the last time we hung out and I didn’t really want to have that awkward ‘oh hey how you doing’ convo with his new chick just a few feet in front of us.
Oh, and tell me why in the course of writing this post did I discover (on Facebook of course, didn't I just tell myself to stop!) that a new guy I’m quasi dating is friends with The Lube Thief. (Sidebar: The Lube Thief also has a profile up on BlackPeopleMeet.com. I’m starting to hate the Internet.) Like they go back to elementary school. I finally meet a guy in person (at a club) and then my Internet transgressions still catch up with me. Why me? I wonder how close they are and whether I’d have to reveal that I did the hokey pokey with his friend. I need my local Congressman to write some laws on this. HELP!
This one features an oldie but goodie: The Bison.
I told y’all about how since the break-off dude hit me up like a month later, making small talk and I pretty much shut him down. Well since then I discovered that he reconnected with the chick he might be talking to (since I can’t definitively say that he is) just a few days after he stood me up. Facebook gives out waaaay too much information. I have to stop e-stalking people because I always find out stuff that I could have lived without knowing.
Then the other day I log into my yahoo personals account and guess who these folks have matched me up with. Yep. The Bison. So I was confused because as far as Facebook tells me (LOL), he’s still dating that girl. So why is he on Yahoo Personals? Of course you know I clicked on his profile, just to see how he advertises himself and after reading it I wish I hadn’t because it wasn’t worth him being able to see that I had viewed his profile. LOL.
So anyway, because that wouldn’t be a random enough story, guess out of all people the in the world who walked into the doors of my new church home: The Bison, and his “new chick.”
They were sitting in the front row, so I’m not sure if he saw me when I walked by to put my offering in the basket, but as I was leaving I got cornered by a church lady and almost ended up bumping into him. I haven’t seen him since the last time we hung out and I didn’t really want to have that awkward ‘oh hey how you doing’ convo with his new chick just a few feet in front of us.
Oh, and tell me why in the course of writing this post did I discover (on Facebook of course, didn't I just tell myself to stop!) that a new guy I’m quasi dating is friends with The Lube Thief. (Sidebar: The Lube Thief also has a profile up on BlackPeopleMeet.com. I’m starting to hate the Internet.) Like they go back to elementary school. I finally meet a guy in person (at a club) and then my Internet transgressions still catch up with me. Why me? I wonder how close they are and whether I’d have to reveal that I did the hokey pokey with his friend. I need my local Congressman to write some laws on this. HELP!
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
A Plea for Help, From Me to You.
Hello my good readers. I was talking to a good friend the other day about why he had to break up with his girl, and it prompted me to write the following open letter to the women who are making my dating life hard. Yea I know you teach people how to treat you and all that jazz, but my life would be so much easier if I didn't have to undo all the bad habits you've instilled in your former beaus with your actions.
Dear Bad Women Daters:
Let me open this letter with a spirit of thanks. Thank you for being a bad girl friend, thus making your ex available for me to date. However I must say that you did quite a number on him because I’m sure had he not dated you prior to me, I wouldn’t have to encounter the foolishness that makes my Random Negro Stories File possible. Well maybe I should thank you for that too. It does make for good blogging. But we are getting off track here.
On to the three things I'd like you to stop doing ASAP:
I would like you to stop not acting like a lady. Let your guy open doors for you and help you with your coat. Maybe then your ex wouldn’t have told me “this sh*t is getting old” when I sat in the car and waited for him to come around and open my door. (Needless to say that date ended before it really started.) As Uncle Steve says, “Chivalry is not dead, it’s just not required anymore.” Maybe I can get my local Congressman to slip some language into a bill to mandate chivalry again. I'd appreciate it.
I would like you to stop making first date plans. I need me a man with a plan. And you bad women daters have made it way too easy for these dudes to not come up with anything to do. I have great ideas for dates. I’m always emailing myself links for things and take note of the stuff I hear other couples doing, but I want someone who’s going to come up with something for us to do. For a first date (and let me emphasize first date here) all I want to have to do is show up, look cute, and engage you with my conversation. There’ll be plenty of time later for me to come up with things for us to do (outside of the bedroom).
Which brings me to my last point:
I would like you to stop sitting on your lazy ass talking about all you want to do is lay up in the house and f*ck. I am a social being, and while I enjoy the occasional “Let’s make it a blockbuster night” or the “Let’s cuddle to the sound of the rain against my window pane” moments, I want my dating experience to be about way more than that. I actually want to get out of the house. I want to go to movies, museums, happy hours, live band nights, and miniature golfing, and to amusement parks! I want to have picnics in the park and go to wine tastings, and gush at the cherry blossoms. Stop letting these men get out of practice!
I promise to do my part to leave the world with better men so you should do yours.
Thanks in advance for your time and consideration,
CocaColaCutie
Dear Bad Women Daters:
Let me open this letter with a spirit of thanks. Thank you for being a bad girl friend, thus making your ex available for me to date. However I must say that you did quite a number on him because I’m sure had he not dated you prior to me, I wouldn’t have to encounter the foolishness that makes my Random Negro Stories File possible. Well maybe I should thank you for that too. It does make for good blogging. But we are getting off track here.
On to the three things I'd like you to stop doing ASAP:
I would like you to stop not acting like a lady. Let your guy open doors for you and help you with your coat. Maybe then your ex wouldn’t have told me “this sh*t is getting old” when I sat in the car and waited for him to come around and open my door. (Needless to say that date ended before it really started.) As Uncle Steve says, “Chivalry is not dead, it’s just not required anymore.” Maybe I can get my local Congressman to slip some language into a bill to mandate chivalry again. I'd appreciate it.
I would like you to stop making first date plans. I need me a man with a plan. And you bad women daters have made it way too easy for these dudes to not come up with anything to do. I have great ideas for dates. I’m always emailing myself links for things and take note of the stuff I hear other couples doing, but I want someone who’s going to come up with something for us to do. For a first date (and let me emphasize first date here) all I want to have to do is show up, look cute, and engage you with my conversation. There’ll be plenty of time later for me to come up with things for us to do (outside of the bedroom).
Which brings me to my last point:
I would like you to stop sitting on your lazy ass talking about all you want to do is lay up in the house and f*ck. I am a social being, and while I enjoy the occasional “Let’s make it a blockbuster night” or the “Let’s cuddle to the sound of the rain against my window pane” moments, I want my dating experience to be about way more than that. I actually want to get out of the house. I want to go to movies, museums, happy hours, live band nights, and miniature golfing, and to amusement parks! I want to have picnics in the park and go to wine tastings, and gush at the cherry blossoms. Stop letting these men get out of practice!
I promise to do my part to leave the world with better men so you should do yours.
Thanks in advance for your time and consideration,
CocaColaCutie
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Random Negro Stories File: Mr. Telephone Man
Hey peoples. I know it’s been a long time, but I figured I’d dust off the old blog, to share another one of my Random Negro Stories.
Last night I was home minding my own business when my phone rings. It’s a number I don’t recognize, but local, so I figured it was someone I’d recently given my number to and I answered.
The person asked for me by name but because I had no idea who it was I asked what his name was. The name doesn’t sound familiar, but to protect the “innocent” well call him Mr. Telephone Man. In an effort to jog my memory, the dude says, “I met you on the chat line.”
RECORD SCRATCH.
Now I know I use a lot of unconventional methods to meet men, but a chat line is not one of them. I ask Mr. Telephone Man for the number to this “chat line” and proceed to google it. My search yields me this result.
Here’s an excerpt for what the chat line promises:
Nightline chat line is the hottest female adult and male adult telephone personals dating service in Baltimore connecting hundreds of local women and local men everyday. Whether you are looking for long-term relationships in Baltimore, casual dates in Baltimore, erotic encounters in Baltimore, fantasies in Baltimore, or couples and swingers in your local Baltimore area Nightline has it all. Nightline Baltimore members ranging from various ages, interests, lifestyles, backgrounds, and personalities.
According to the site, finding the person you want is “fast and easy.”
WHAT IN THE HE SAY SHE SAY?
I don’t even live in Baltimore! Granted it’s not that far from the part of Silver Spring that I live in, but I’m vehicularly challenged so there’s absolutely positively no reason for me be trying to solicit B-more booty.
According to the site here’s how the chat line works:
When you call Nightline we will set you up with your own free voice mailbox that lets you receive messages from other members. You can also record your own audio greeting for others members to listen. Afterwards, spend some time browsing the Baltimore chat network and check out member profiles in five distinct communities. Nightline also has the hottest live chat room where members talk and discuss anything they like.
So Mr. Telephone Man continues to insist that he spoke with me earlier in the day (via this live chat) and that I gave him my number. I continue to insist that he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.
Dude starts recounting “my” description of myself, but when he says light skin, he’s obviously all kinds of off. (CocaColaCutie is not only a reference to my coke bottle shape—watch out now—but also to my coca cola complexion.)
With all my badgering about where this dude came up with my number from, he gets scared off and says he’ll “call me right back.” He doesn’t, so I looked up his number in the White pages, but it turns out to be a mobile number. I called it back today (from the work phone) to see if I could get any more details from a voicemail greeting or something. But it was a generic one.
At first I started to think Nephew Tommy (from the Steve Harvey Morning Show) was playing on my phone, but dude hung up without revealing as much, so I had to rule that out. So now I’m like who in the eff is impersonating me on a dating/erotic services chatline.
Friends I’ve told this story to asked if there was a crazy ex-bf or someone else that could have put dude up to this. I haven’t had a bf in a minute so I’m left only to think that it’s one of the random negroes in my life that may or may not have warranted a mention on this blog. WTF. Why do these things only happen to me? I wonder if I can get my local Congressman to launch an investigation into this.
Last night I was home minding my own business when my phone rings. It’s a number I don’t recognize, but local, so I figured it was someone I’d recently given my number to and I answered.
The person asked for me by name but because I had no idea who it was I asked what his name was. The name doesn’t sound familiar, but to protect the “innocent” well call him Mr. Telephone Man. In an effort to jog my memory, the dude says, “I met you on the chat line.”
RECORD SCRATCH.
Now I know I use a lot of unconventional methods to meet men, but a chat line is not one of them. I ask Mr. Telephone Man for the number to this “chat line” and proceed to google it. My search yields me this result.
Here’s an excerpt for what the chat line promises:
Nightline chat line is the hottest female adult and male adult telephone personals dating service in Baltimore connecting hundreds of local women and local men everyday. Whether you are looking for long-term relationships in Baltimore, casual dates in Baltimore, erotic encounters in Baltimore, fantasies in Baltimore, or couples and swingers in your local Baltimore area Nightline has it all. Nightline Baltimore members ranging from various ages, interests, lifestyles, backgrounds, and personalities.
According to the site, finding the person you want is “fast and easy.”
WHAT IN THE HE SAY SHE SAY?
I don’t even live in Baltimore! Granted it’s not that far from the part of Silver Spring that I live in, but I’m vehicularly challenged so there’s absolutely positively no reason for me be trying to solicit B-more booty.
According to the site here’s how the chat line works:
When you call Nightline we will set you up with your own free voice mailbox that lets you receive messages from other members. You can also record your own audio greeting for others members to listen. Afterwards, spend some time browsing the Baltimore chat network and check out member profiles in five distinct communities. Nightline also has the hottest live chat room where members talk and discuss anything they like.
So Mr. Telephone Man continues to insist that he spoke with me earlier in the day (via this live chat) and that I gave him my number. I continue to insist that he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.
Dude starts recounting “my” description of myself, but when he says light skin, he’s obviously all kinds of off. (CocaColaCutie is not only a reference to my coke bottle shape—watch out now—but also to my coca cola complexion.)
With all my badgering about where this dude came up with my number from, he gets scared off and says he’ll “call me right back.” He doesn’t, so I looked up his number in the White pages, but it turns out to be a mobile number. I called it back today (from the work phone) to see if I could get any more details from a voicemail greeting or something. But it was a generic one.
At first I started to think Nephew Tommy (from the Steve Harvey Morning Show) was playing on my phone, but dude hung up without revealing as much, so I had to rule that out. So now I’m like who in the eff is impersonating me on a dating/erotic services chatline.
Friends I’ve told this story to asked if there was a crazy ex-bf or someone else that could have put dude up to this. I haven’t had a bf in a minute so I’m left only to think that it’s one of the random negroes in my life that may or may not have warranted a mention on this blog. WTF. Why do these things only happen to me? I wonder if I can get my local Congressman to launch an investigation into this.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Random Negro Stories File: No Paparazzi
Hey peoples! I'm back with yet another Random Negro Story. (When will these things end?) So Saturday night I went to this lounge to celebrate a friend's birthday. It was pretty cool. The party was in the VIP section so my friend and I kicked it up there drank a little, danced a lot and were having a really good time. All the guys there for the birthday party came with their gfs/wifeys so I went into the crowd in search of some unattached (or seemingly so) men and dragged my girl along with me.
So we're on the dance floor and I strike up a convo with this guy and start dancing with him when all of a sudden I see a flash. So I look around for the "club photographer" but he or she is not in the vicinity, but there is this guy, who we'll call The Cameraman, with a regular ass digital camera pointed in my direction. So I stop dancing with the guy for a moment and ask The Cameraman if he just took my picture. He said yes and shows me the picture. Thankfully I had turned my head and all he got was my hair.
I don't understand people who take random pictures of people at the club. I mean it would have been one thing if he talked to me or danced with me before trying to take my picture. But to just point and shoot without even having acknowledged my presence--that's crazy. And even after he showed me the picture he didn't attempt to strike up any conversation. He just wanted my picture. For what? I don't even want to think about it. Club photos are fine when you want to remember/realize what that guy/girl you were grinding all up on really looked like after the aaaa...aaa...aa....aaa....aaaaacohol--as Jamie would say has worn off.
But clearly that was not the case here. He was probably going to have my likeness plastered all over the Internet somewhere. Sure he probably thought I was attractive, but I am not a public figure or celebrity. (Although I'm on my way! Ya girl was on MSNBC last week doing the pundit thing about the Madoff ponzi scheme! Still can't find the clip though *sad face*) You don't get to just take pictures of me without my consent or at the very least my awareness. (Dang, at least give me a chance to flash my million dollar smile) There must be some rules on this. I need to check with my local Congressman about that.
But back to the story. I went back to dancing with other guy, and I look up and The Cameraman is again trying to take my picture. So I put my hand up to block my face. So I turn to the guy I was dancing and I'm like why is he trying to take my picture? He says to me, "That's what you call a fan." And I'm all like but I'm dancing with you. And he says well he likes what he sees and I can't say that I blame him. Way to sneak a compliment in. I did end up giving that guy my number and he sent me a text at 3 a.m. asking where I live. I didn't get the text until Sunday morning, but it matters not anyway. I'm done with the random hookups. 2009 is a new year! Yay me!
In other news, No Love in '08, sent me a text the other day so I ask him how his wedding plans are going and he said "They're not yet. she has some issues to work on before that happens." A minute later he adds "Minor adjustments." I write back "minor adjustments?" He says "yep" and doesn't elaborate. He asks me about my love life and I say I'm dating and weighing my options. Then I ask him how he decided to take the plunge, but that question got no response.
The whole thing sounds weird to me. First, why are you texting me? We are not friends. I never wanted to just be your friend, so I don't understand this out of the blue texting. When I get engaged, the last thing I'm gonna to be doing is texting some dude it didn't work out with. For what? I'm going to be too wrapped up in my boo to be worried about catching up with that whack guy--and I'm going to be even less concerned about the state of his love life.
Second, shouldn't the "minor adjustments" have been worked out before you decided to propose? I'm pretty sure whatever it was didn't just pop up after he showed up with a ring. The only minor adjustments I want to have to make after I get engaged are cosmetic. Like how much weight do I have to lose to get into the wedding dress of my dreams type stuff.
I do wonder why he decided not to answer my question about how he decided to take the plunge. I wonder if it means that he really doesn't have an answer. Or maybe he just feels like he doesn't have to explain himself to me. The world may never know.
So we're on the dance floor and I strike up a convo with this guy and start dancing with him when all of a sudden I see a flash. So I look around for the "club photographer" but he or she is not in the vicinity, but there is this guy, who we'll call The Cameraman, with a regular ass digital camera pointed in my direction. So I stop dancing with the guy for a moment and ask The Cameraman if he just took my picture. He said yes and shows me the picture. Thankfully I had turned my head and all he got was my hair.
I don't understand people who take random pictures of people at the club. I mean it would have been one thing if he talked to me or danced with me before trying to take my picture. But to just point and shoot without even having acknowledged my presence--that's crazy. And even after he showed me the picture he didn't attempt to strike up any conversation. He just wanted my picture. For what? I don't even want to think about it. Club photos are fine when you want to remember/realize what that guy/girl you were grinding all up on really looked like after the aaaa...aaa...aa....aaa....aaaaacohol--as Jamie would say has worn off.
But clearly that was not the case here. He was probably going to have my likeness plastered all over the Internet somewhere. Sure he probably thought I was attractive, but I am not a public figure or celebrity. (Although I'm on my way! Ya girl was on MSNBC last week doing the pundit thing about the Madoff ponzi scheme! Still can't find the clip though *sad face*) You don't get to just take pictures of me without my consent or at the very least my awareness. (Dang, at least give me a chance to flash my million dollar smile) There must be some rules on this. I need to check with my local Congressman about that.
But back to the story. I went back to dancing with other guy, and I look up and The Cameraman is again trying to take my picture. So I put my hand up to block my face. So I turn to the guy I was dancing and I'm like why is he trying to take my picture? He says to me, "That's what you call a fan." And I'm all like but I'm dancing with you. And he says well he likes what he sees and I can't say that I blame him. Way to sneak a compliment in. I did end up giving that guy my number and he sent me a text at 3 a.m. asking where I live. I didn't get the text until Sunday morning, but it matters not anyway. I'm done with the random hookups. 2009 is a new year! Yay me!
In other news, No Love in '08, sent me a text the other day so I ask him how his wedding plans are going and he said "They're not yet. she has some issues to work on before that happens." A minute later he adds "Minor adjustments." I write back "minor adjustments?" He says "yep" and doesn't elaborate. He asks me about my love life and I say I'm dating and weighing my options. Then I ask him how he decided to take the plunge, but that question got no response.
The whole thing sounds weird to me. First, why are you texting me? We are not friends. I never wanted to just be your friend, so I don't understand this out of the blue texting. When I get engaged, the last thing I'm gonna to be doing is texting some dude it didn't work out with. For what? I'm going to be too wrapped up in my boo to be worried about catching up with that whack guy--and I'm going to be even less concerned about the state of his love life.
Second, shouldn't the "minor adjustments" have been worked out before you decided to propose? I'm pretty sure whatever it was didn't just pop up after he showed up with a ring. The only minor adjustments I want to have to make after I get engaged are cosmetic. Like how much weight do I have to lose to get into the wedding dress of my dreams type stuff.
I do wonder why he decided not to answer my question about how he decided to take the plunge. I wonder if it means that he really doesn't have an answer. Or maybe he just feels like he doesn't have to explain himself to me. The world may never know.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Weekend in Review: Pity Party for One.
Okay. Okay. People don’t kill me. I know I was supposed to update you from Inauguration weekend, but I was having a pity party moment. Now that I’m up to sharing here we go:
NFL’s visit was less than stellar. Way less. Sunday night was the only time we had free to hang and I had planned to take him to my friend’s inauguration house party. The party was really great, featuring this bomb ass sangria and friends I haven’t seen in a hot minute! The plan (or so I thought) was to kick it there for an hour or so (since I had already been kicking it there for a while) and then go chill at my place. After we left the party I asked him what he wanted to do next and he said go home, so that’s where I took him—back to his brother’s house. The ride there was painstaking. He wasn’t really talking and it felt like there was some weird tension in the air. We’ve gmailed since then and he maintains that he was just tired. Thus far there aren’t any prospects for any future hangouts.
Then I find out on Myspace (and cross referenced on Facebook) that No Love in ’08 is engaged. Funny. Well not really. I’m like you didn’t even want to be in a relationship last year and now you’re engaged?!? It bothers me, but I really should have known all along that it was just me that he didn’t want to be in a relationship with. I really feel like no matter the circumstances in your life, if you really (and I do mean really) want to be with someone you’ll make it happen.
I went on this “date” on Thursday, in a piss poor attempt to get myself unhooked from NFL’s magical spell. It sooooo did not work. I ended up walking away wondering if dude was gay. Yea, yea I know that it’s probably an unfair assessment to make—because it’s based only on his fascination with baking and a moment in the date where he picked up his phone saying he was going to call his mother and blame her for his quirks—but hell that’s how I felt.
I had another lunch date with The Staffer on Friday. He’s cool peoples but I can’t tell what his deal is. I guess he just wants a lunch buddy, but he paid again. I’m so confused. There should be some rules on this like there are with Congressional lobbying. I’ll get my local Congressman on that ASAP.
This cop I was talking to a while back (Mr. Officer) hit me up on yahoo the other day. I broke things off with him because I was starting to like him and I couldn’t really accept the fact that he has three kids—two baby mamas. Anyway his IM is all about how he misses being around me. I tell him I’m not trying to lead him on and that we could only be friends. He, for whatever reason, agrees and says he wants to hang out. For some strange reason (cough cough loneliness cough cough) I agree. He ends up going MIA and snap out of my moment of weakness and realize why I had cut things off with him in the first place.
Y’all remember Friendship and Fun from my most recent “Take 'em Back Tuesday” post? Well he finally reached out to me to apologize for the situation with the mutual Internet friend-girl. He writes to me, and I quote: “i care for you and love you... and am thankful that you were so cool and we had good communication u know” He later adds, “i miss you.” Interesting.
In other news, I spent most of this weekend with family. Saturday night I took an impromptu mall trip with my sister and I spent 80 percent of today celebrating my niece’s christening. It was really nice, but it kinda made me sad. Had me thinking about when it would be my turn for all that. (Not that I’m in any way remotely ready to have a child. I just want a boyfriend.) But as you can see from my above Random Negro tales it’s not about to happen any time soon.
I pray next week is better.
NFL’s visit was less than stellar. Way less. Sunday night was the only time we had free to hang and I had planned to take him to my friend’s inauguration house party. The party was really great, featuring this bomb ass sangria and friends I haven’t seen in a hot minute! The plan (or so I thought) was to kick it there for an hour or so (since I had already been kicking it there for a while) and then go chill at my place. After we left the party I asked him what he wanted to do next and he said go home, so that’s where I took him—back to his brother’s house. The ride there was painstaking. He wasn’t really talking and it felt like there was some weird tension in the air. We’ve gmailed since then and he maintains that he was just tired. Thus far there aren’t any prospects for any future hangouts.
Then I find out on Myspace (and cross referenced on Facebook) that No Love in ’08 is engaged. Funny. Well not really. I’m like you didn’t even want to be in a relationship last year and now you’re engaged?!? It bothers me, but I really should have known all along that it was just me that he didn’t want to be in a relationship with. I really feel like no matter the circumstances in your life, if you really (and I do mean really) want to be with someone you’ll make it happen.
I went on this “date” on Thursday, in a piss poor attempt to get myself unhooked from NFL’s magical spell. It sooooo did not work. I ended up walking away wondering if dude was gay. Yea, yea I know that it’s probably an unfair assessment to make—because it’s based only on his fascination with baking and a moment in the date where he picked up his phone saying he was going to call his mother and blame her for his quirks—but hell that’s how I felt.
I had another lunch date with The Staffer on Friday. He’s cool peoples but I can’t tell what his deal is. I guess he just wants a lunch buddy, but he paid again. I’m so confused. There should be some rules on this like there are with Congressional lobbying. I’ll get my local Congressman on that ASAP.
This cop I was talking to a while back (Mr. Officer) hit me up on yahoo the other day. I broke things off with him because I was starting to like him and I couldn’t really accept the fact that he has three kids—two baby mamas. Anyway his IM is all about how he misses being around me. I tell him I’m not trying to lead him on and that we could only be friends. He, for whatever reason, agrees and says he wants to hang out. For some strange reason (cough cough loneliness cough cough) I agree. He ends up going MIA and snap out of my moment of weakness and realize why I had cut things off with him in the first place.
Y’all remember Friendship and Fun from my most recent “Take 'em Back Tuesday” post? Well he finally reached out to me to apologize for the situation with the mutual Internet friend-girl. He writes to me, and I quote: “i care for you and love you... and am thankful that you were so cool and we had good communication u know” He later adds, “i miss you.” Interesting.
In other news, I spent most of this weekend with family. Saturday night I took an impromptu mall trip with my sister and I spent 80 percent of today celebrating my niece’s christening. It was really nice, but it kinda made me sad. Had me thinking about when it would be my turn for all that. (Not that I’m in any way remotely ready to have a child. I just want a boyfriend.) But as you can see from my above Random Negro tales it’s not about to happen any time soon.
I pray next week is better.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
One More Reason to Love Barack Obama!
NFL is coming to town!
Oh yeah!
NFL is coming to town!
NFL is com-ing to tooooown….
Oh yeah!
NFL is coming to town!
NFL is com-ing to tooooown….
Because my president is black. I don’t have a Lambo, but I’m still excited. LOL. I wonder if my local Congressman can get me one of those instead of those mules “we” were all supposed to get?
Anyway, NFL lives in New York (not sure if I told y’all that), but he has fam in the area so he’s coming for inauguration festivities. He asked if he’d see me while he was in town and of course I agreed!
That is all!
In the words of SuperDave if I reveal anymore it’s "bad mojo."
Hit y’all back up after the weekend!
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Take ‘em Back Tuesdays: Recycled Professions of "Love"
Hey y'all! I bet you thought I had all but abandoned Take 'em Back Tuesdays huh. Well I won't promise any regular posts for this series, but it's Tuesday and I feel like the dust has settled enough on this situation to share.
So remember that love poem I got from Friendship and Fun?
Here's an excerpt for those who don't feel like clicking back.
Well in the most random of ways I found out two things: a. I wasn't the only one he sent the poem to and b. he was dating a mutual acquaintance as he was popping in and out of my life.
So here's what happened. The mutual acquaintance is an Innanet friend that recently moved to the area. In an attempt to widen my social circle I suggest that we hang out. So we exchange numbers to chat and figure out what to do and when and of course the subject of menz comes up. So she starts telling me about how she really wants to hang out in the city to see some chocolate eye candy because the pickins are slim in the area she's in--but that she's not really trying to date because she's quasi still in love with her last bf. So I'm like girl I understand completely and she starts telling me about the guy. No real details, just situations they went through.
She off-handedly mentions this poem he sent her--via IM-- and for some reason *women's intuition I suppose* it clicks that she's talking about the same poem I got from Friendship and Fun. Well I'll be damned. Her ex-bf and Friendship and Fun are one in the same! Hmm..now I wonder if that random ass candle he gave me the day he cleaned up my house belonged to her first?
I mean I knew that we all knew each other from a common Internet stomping ground, but I'd dismissed any thought that he'd actually poach two folk from the same spot. Foul. I didn't mention anything to her on the phone because I was mulling over what good would come from it, but after consultation with a few friends and listening to my conscious, I decided I had to tell her. I mean I'd want someone to tell me that a guy that I was quasi still in love with was foul. You know so I could really get over him.
So the next day I send her an email with the poem and explain that I had a feeling that we had been talking to the same dude. She IM's me and she's obviously livid--though not at me. Thank God for small victories! She confirms that it is the same poem AND dude. We compare time lines and discover that he started talking to us at the same time. I got out quicker than she did because I realized sooner that he wasn't serious about me.
*Shaking my head* I want restitution for all that gas money I spent driving all over the damn place to see him. Hmmm, I wonder if I can get my local Congressman to help me set that in motion.
But back to my original point, based on the way she described their relationship he was all in it--well as much as a cheat can be--with her. I was just the play thing on the side. She said she hoped I didn't mind that she busted him out over the situation. I said do you. I'd long put him behind me.
She later tells me that he admitted talking to us at the same time. The sad part is she said early on she asked him if he had anything going on with me and he lied and said no. She said he said he didn't know why he lied about me, but that he was sincere in all the things that he told her about their relationship. For some reason I believe him. But oh well.
So remember that love poem I got from Friendship and Fun?
Here's an excerpt for those who don't feel like clicking back.
ending one love
one warm hug
one prayer full of...
a solicitation for the emancipation
of the dreams you have on reservation
I wish God upon you
You've been patient
Today's the end of your waiting
Arise and be who you were created to be
Let's begin your celebration
one warm hug
one prayer full of...
a solicitation for the emancipation
of the dreams you have on reservation
I wish God upon you
You've been patient
Today's the end of your waiting
Arise and be who you were created to be
Let's begin your celebration
Well in the most random of ways I found out two things: a. I wasn't the only one he sent the poem to and b. he was dating a mutual acquaintance as he was popping in and out of my life.
So here's what happened. The mutual acquaintance is an Innanet friend that recently moved to the area. In an attempt to widen my social circle I suggest that we hang out. So we exchange numbers to chat and figure out what to do and when and of course the subject of menz comes up. So she starts telling me about how she really wants to hang out in the city to see some chocolate eye candy because the pickins are slim in the area she's in--but that she's not really trying to date because she's quasi still in love with her last bf. So I'm like girl I understand completely and she starts telling me about the guy. No real details, just situations they went through.
She off-handedly mentions this poem he sent her--via IM-- and for some reason *women's intuition I suppose* it clicks that she's talking about the same poem I got from Friendship and Fun. Well I'll be damned. Her ex-bf and Friendship and Fun are one in the same! Hmm..now I wonder if that random ass candle he gave me the day he cleaned up my house belonged to her first?
I mean I knew that we all knew each other from a common Internet stomping ground, but I'd dismissed any thought that he'd actually poach two folk from the same spot. Foul. I didn't mention anything to her on the phone because I was mulling over what good would come from it, but after consultation with a few friends and listening to my conscious, I decided I had to tell her. I mean I'd want someone to tell me that a guy that I was quasi still in love with was foul. You know so I could really get over him.
So the next day I send her an email with the poem and explain that I had a feeling that we had been talking to the same dude. She IM's me and she's obviously livid--though not at me. Thank God for small victories! She confirms that it is the same poem AND dude. We compare time lines and discover that he started talking to us at the same time. I got out quicker than she did because I realized sooner that he wasn't serious about me.
*Shaking my head* I want restitution for all that gas money I spent driving all over the damn place to see him. Hmmm, I wonder if I can get my local Congressman to help me set that in motion.
But back to my original point, based on the way she described their relationship he was all in it--well as much as a cheat can be--with her. I was just the play thing on the side. She said she hoped I didn't mind that she busted him out over the situation. I said do you. I'd long put him behind me.
She later tells me that he admitted talking to us at the same time. The sad part is she said early on she asked him if he had anything going on with me and he lied and said no. She said he said he didn't know why he lied about me, but that he was sincere in all the things that he told her about their relationship. For some reason I believe him. But oh well.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Random Negro Stories File: The Wrap-Up
Wow I can't believe I haven't been on here in a couple months. Well actually I can. Every time I started to come on here and blog I'd just be like well maybe I should wait for this situation or that situation to develop a bit more before I tell y'all anymore of my business.
Well things are pretty chill for the moment, so I'm gonna do a Random Negro Story Wrap-Up, like Congress does when they're trying to get rid of a bunch of legislation all at once. You can thank my local Congressman for the idea. LOL. Brace yourself for a long one.
The Bison. He didn't make it past two months. Stood me up a couple of days before I left town to go to ATL for the holidays. Well we talked about it and he started talking some mumbo jumbo about subconsciously not wanting to do the things you have to do to really date someone so he had to go. I'm done with trying to make someone be with me. Been there done that and not only does that ish not work out well, but it left me with a slew of other problems I didn't need. I gave myself one day per month that we were talking to sulk.
Going home for the holidays as early as I did turned out to be the best decision I've made in a long time. My family kept me occupied from thinking about him and one day this crazy blue light appeared on my phone and in an attempt to save it I ended up losing all my numbers. Bam! Saved from any temptation to arguetext with him about how he was messing up the best thing that ever happened to him. LOL. Oddly enough yesterday he sent me a message on Facebook asking how I was doing. Hmm, barely a month out and he's trying to reconnect. I think that's a personal best for me. LOL.
While I was in ATL a girlfriend of mine came up to visit and we hit this spot called Utopia. Had a few Tokyo Teas (basically a melon Long Island) and partied the night away! It was great. So great we ended up going back the next week. The second time around was crazier than the first! I ended up running into some girls I went to high school with and met up with some friends from my alma mater and some of their phrat brothers. Enter The Line Brother, a former football player stature build of sexual chocolate goodness. Y'all! I had been lightweight lusting after this dude on the Internet for the better part of a year and a half, so when he showed up (and was seemingly unattached) I couldn't believe my luck!
*Ok. Let me give y'all some back story here. My friend, turned college bf, turned ex, turned friend, crossed Alpha in Spring '07. When the pics with The Line Brother started appearing on Facebook I commented to my friend that I thought he was really attractive. He said he'd introduce us but that he was already talking to another friend of his. So I kept my crushing to a minimum, but still finding myself biting my lip over his overall sexy whenever new Facebook photo's appeared.*
So my friend, turned college bf, turned ex, turned friend introduced us, but we didn't really end up interacting until my girl pushed me into dancing with him--literally. We ended up jumping off, because I knew that was all it would ever be keeping in mind that I was getting on a plane back to Maryland in two days. But sadly, and unbeknownst to me there were forces at work against this union. I later found out that my friend, turned college bf, turned ex, turned friend was opposed to it. Said he was hurt and disappointed by our lack of regard for what he may have thought about it. I told him I was sorry for hurting and disappointing him but I never thought that it would have considering he told me that he'd introduce us in the first place. So my friend, turned college bf, turned ex, turned friend and I are on a bit of a hiatus here.
So even though I was done sulking over The Bison, I wasn't done being bitter that I had made my travel arrangements based on thinking that we were going to spend New Year's Eve together. So I was back in Maryland with no particular plans but hoping that I wouldn't be sitting on my couch cursing his name. The night before New Year's Eve a good friend of mine from elementary school, who recently moved to the area, called me telling me about a pre-game NYE party at his house. I asked him what the main event was and he scrounged me up a ticket. Problem solved.
I had this banging green dress that I'd been saving for a special occasion so I didn't have to break my neck trying to figure out what the hell to wear. I paired it with these bronze stilettos, a golden/deep bronze ombre clutch, painted my nails a golden/sunset/sunrise orange, threw in some gold accessories and was ready to go. Only I wasn't going to get my dress all wrinkled up on my hellish commute into the city so I asked my friend if I could change at his place. He agreed. I made it out there and the party was in full swing. He made this outlandishly loud (I'm talking halt all conversation in the room) introduction of me. It was a bit embarrassing considering everyone was in their party clothes and I had just thrown on some tights, a sweater and boots.
Anyway I get dressed and rejoin the party and then my friend starts reintroducing me individually to everyone there. One of his closest friends, who I vaguely remember meeting a few years ago when I went to visit my friend in Philly for his 21st birthday party, takes a liking to me and I'm like this can't be happening two weeks in a row. (Yes you guessed it, my elementary school friend and I were an item for a hot minute in middle school. I really have to stop liking my friends--and their friends.)
The main event was a party at The Park, where they had a gourmet buffet and an open bar. We got there at like 7:30 and I was already tipsy from the pre-game. By this point NFL, which is what we'll call dude since he's a digital media manager for the NFL, and I have sorta paired off.
I fed him off my plate, we drank some more, danced, and somewhere in between there I ended up losing my phone, falling, gashing the hell out of my knee, and am placed in the drunk tank. Lawd. I thought I had vowed never to end back up there. I'll just say intoxication and stilettos don't mix. Anyway NFL is quite the gentleman and stays with me while they bandage me up and make me down like three bottles of water. At least it was Voss. LOL. Finally they let me back inside, we dance some more, kiss at midnight--after asking my friend like a thousand times if it was okay and end up leaving together shortly thereafter.
NFL had rented a room in my friend's apartment complex so we go back there. I remember getting undressed but I was on my cycle so nothing but some kissing and oral delights--for him--was going down. *TMI Sidebar Time: Giving head while you are dehydrated from being intoxicated is the hardest thing ever. I've been told at one point I was yelling "N--a I ain't got no more spit."*
The next morning we woke up and NFL was being all sweet saying stuff like me being the first face he saw of '09 was a great beginning. We kissed some more and talked and then we got hungry. He spent like 15 minutes trying to figure out where the hell we put my dress only for me to realize I'd look crazy as hell trying to walk out in search of food in that thing. So he got my bag that I came with from my friend's apartment and I changed back into my outfit that I had came over in. Eventually we found it in the closet. Really in that drunken state we had the presence of mind to hang my dress in the closet. Wow.
In search of food we ended up at Caribu Coffee to wait for about a half hour for Popeye's to open. For whatever reason we decided that fried chicken and red drink should be our first official New Year's meal. Yes I know coonery at its finest. So a Popeye's and 7-eleven run later, we go back to the apartment with Kitsch in hand, where his other friend and these two other girls had finally stirred. Later in the day I ventured back home, did a quick change and packed a bag for the next night. Once back in city I retrieved my phone from The Park, after everyone and their grandma told me where it was. God bless the bartender who found it and texted a bunch of folks in my phone so they could let me know where it was.
We all met back up to go bowling at Lucky Strike for one of my friend's friend's birthday. Afterwards we tried hitting another lounge, but nothing but The Park was open and most of us didn't really feel like going back there. So my friend, his quasi girl for the week, NFL and I get food at this nearby carryout, drink some more and play Rock Band into the night. Eventually everyone got tired and NFL and I went back to his room again, this time with a more favorable oral experience. LOL. The next morning he was checking out so I helped him pack his bag and we all went back up to my friend's apartment. I got dressed for the day, helped them clean up and by mid-afternoon people had piled back over to play Rock Band before we headed to Lauriol Plaza.
Here's where things get ugly. Apparently starting drinking at 1 p.m., continuing to drink margaritas and sangria at a Mexican spot, and keep drinking once back at my friends place is not a good look. I have no idea how I held it together to get into Jin, the lounge we went to after playing more Rock Band. But I couldn't have held it together too well because I later found out that I showed my ass (though not literally thank God!) and besmirched my good name with NFL. I've somewhat redeemed myself with him, but of course as my luck would have it he says he's not in a position to get into anything serious. So we're just flirting and having fun until my next Random Negro comes along.
If you're still reading this, I apologize for rambling on for so long. I'll fill you in later with more. Ciao and Happy New Year!
Well things are pretty chill for the moment, so I'm gonna do a Random Negro Story Wrap-Up, like Congress does when they're trying to get rid of a bunch of legislation all at once. You can thank my local Congressman for the idea. LOL. Brace yourself for a long one.
The Bison. He didn't make it past two months. Stood me up a couple of days before I left town to go to ATL for the holidays. Well we talked about it and he started talking some mumbo jumbo about subconsciously not wanting to do the things you have to do to really date someone so he had to go. I'm done with trying to make someone be with me. Been there done that and not only does that ish not work out well, but it left me with a slew of other problems I didn't need. I gave myself one day per month that we were talking to sulk.
Going home for the holidays as early as I did turned out to be the best decision I've made in a long time. My family kept me occupied from thinking about him and one day this crazy blue light appeared on my phone and in an attempt to save it I ended up losing all my numbers. Bam! Saved from any temptation to arguetext with him about how he was messing up the best thing that ever happened to him. LOL. Oddly enough yesterday he sent me a message on Facebook asking how I was doing. Hmm, barely a month out and he's trying to reconnect. I think that's a personal best for me. LOL.
While I was in ATL a girlfriend of mine came up to visit and we hit this spot called Utopia. Had a few Tokyo Teas (basically a melon Long Island) and partied the night away! It was great. So great we ended up going back the next week. The second time around was crazier than the first! I ended up running into some girls I went to high school with and met up with some friends from my alma mater and some of their phrat brothers. Enter The Line Brother, a former football player stature build of sexual chocolate goodness. Y'all! I had been lightweight lusting after this dude on the Internet for the better part of a year and a half, so when he showed up (and was seemingly unattached) I couldn't believe my luck!
*Ok. Let me give y'all some back story here. My friend, turned college bf, turned ex, turned friend, crossed Alpha in Spring '07. When the pics with The Line Brother started appearing on Facebook I commented to my friend that I thought he was really attractive. He said he'd introduce us but that he was already talking to another friend of his. So I kept my crushing to a minimum, but still finding myself biting my lip over his overall sexy whenever new Facebook photo's appeared.*
So my friend, turned college bf, turned ex, turned friend introduced us, but we didn't really end up interacting until my girl pushed me into dancing with him--literally. We ended up jumping off, because I knew that was all it would ever be keeping in mind that I was getting on a plane back to Maryland in two days. But sadly, and unbeknownst to me there were forces at work against this union. I later found out that my friend, turned college bf, turned ex, turned friend was opposed to it. Said he was hurt and disappointed by our lack of regard for what he may have thought about it. I told him I was sorry for hurting and disappointing him but I never thought that it would have considering he told me that he'd introduce us in the first place. So my friend, turned college bf, turned ex, turned friend and I are on a bit of a hiatus here.
So even though I was done sulking over The Bison, I wasn't done being bitter that I had made my travel arrangements based on thinking that we were going to spend New Year's Eve together. So I was back in Maryland with no particular plans but hoping that I wouldn't be sitting on my couch cursing his name. The night before New Year's Eve a good friend of mine from elementary school, who recently moved to the area, called me telling me about a pre-game NYE party at his house. I asked him what the main event was and he scrounged me up a ticket. Problem solved.
I had this banging green dress that I'd been saving for a special occasion so I didn't have to break my neck trying to figure out what the hell to wear. I paired it with these bronze stilettos, a golden/deep bronze ombre clutch, painted my nails a golden/sunset/sunrise orange, threw in some gold accessories and was ready to go. Only I wasn't going to get my dress all wrinkled up on my hellish commute into the city so I asked my friend if I could change at his place. He agreed. I made it out there and the party was in full swing. He made this outlandishly loud (I'm talking halt all conversation in the room) introduction of me. It was a bit embarrassing considering everyone was in their party clothes and I had just thrown on some tights, a sweater and boots.
Anyway I get dressed and rejoin the party and then my friend starts reintroducing me individually to everyone there. One of his closest friends, who I vaguely remember meeting a few years ago when I went to visit my friend in Philly for his 21st birthday party, takes a liking to me and I'm like this can't be happening two weeks in a row. (Yes you guessed it, my elementary school friend and I were an item for a hot minute in middle school. I really have to stop liking my friends--and their friends.)
The main event was a party at The Park, where they had a gourmet buffet and an open bar. We got there at like 7:30 and I was already tipsy from the pre-game. By this point NFL, which is what we'll call dude since he's a digital media manager for the NFL, and I have sorta paired off.
I fed him off my plate, we drank some more, danced, and somewhere in between there I ended up losing my phone, falling, gashing the hell out of my knee, and am placed in the drunk tank. Lawd. I thought I had vowed never to end back up there. I'll just say intoxication and stilettos don't mix. Anyway NFL is quite the gentleman and stays with me while they bandage me up and make me down like three bottles of water. At least it was Voss. LOL. Finally they let me back inside, we dance some more, kiss at midnight--after asking my friend like a thousand times if it was okay and end up leaving together shortly thereafter.
NFL had rented a room in my friend's apartment complex so we go back there. I remember getting undressed but I was on my cycle so nothing but some kissing and oral delights--for him--was going down. *TMI Sidebar Time: Giving head while you are dehydrated from being intoxicated is the hardest thing ever. I've been told at one point I was yelling "N--a I ain't got no more spit."*
The next morning we woke up and NFL was being all sweet saying stuff like me being the first face he saw of '09 was a great beginning. We kissed some more and talked and then we got hungry. He spent like 15 minutes trying to figure out where the hell we put my dress only for me to realize I'd look crazy as hell trying to walk out in search of food in that thing. So he got my bag that I came with from my friend's apartment and I changed back into my outfit that I had came over in. Eventually we found it in the closet. Really in that drunken state we had the presence of mind to hang my dress in the closet. Wow.
In search of food we ended up at Caribu Coffee to wait for about a half hour for Popeye's to open. For whatever reason we decided that fried chicken and red drink should be our first official New Year's meal. Yes I know coonery at its finest. So a Popeye's and 7-eleven run later, we go back to the apartment with Kitsch in hand, where his other friend and these two other girls had finally stirred. Later in the day I ventured back home, did a quick change and packed a bag for the next night. Once back in city I retrieved my phone from The Park, after everyone and their grandma told me where it was. God bless the bartender who found it and texted a bunch of folks in my phone so they could let me know where it was.
We all met back up to go bowling at Lucky Strike for one of my friend's friend's birthday. Afterwards we tried hitting another lounge, but nothing but The Park was open and most of us didn't really feel like going back there. So my friend, his quasi girl for the week, NFL and I get food at this nearby carryout, drink some more and play Rock Band into the night. Eventually everyone got tired and NFL and I went back to his room again, this time with a more favorable oral experience. LOL. The next morning he was checking out so I helped him pack his bag and we all went back up to my friend's apartment. I got dressed for the day, helped them clean up and by mid-afternoon people had piled back over to play Rock Band before we headed to Lauriol Plaza.
Here's where things get ugly. Apparently starting drinking at 1 p.m., continuing to drink margaritas and sangria at a Mexican spot, and keep drinking once back at my friends place is not a good look. I have no idea how I held it together to get into Jin, the lounge we went to after playing more Rock Band. But I couldn't have held it together too well because I later found out that I showed my ass (though not literally thank God!) and besmirched my good name with NFL. I've somewhat redeemed myself with him, but of course as my luck would have it he says he's not in a position to get into anything serious. So we're just flirting and having fun until my next Random Negro comes along.
If you're still reading this, I apologize for rambling on for so long. I'll fill you in later with more. Ciao and Happy New Year!
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