The One Who Never Let Up contacted me via Facebook. A few months ago, he pissed me off and I ended all contact with him and blocked him on Facebook. I decided to unblock him a couple of weeks ago because I felt that he wouldn’t bother me after all this time. Wrong! He must have felt the magical powers of being unblocked because he messaged me the very next week. He said that he had been thinking about me and wanted to apologize once again for offending me a few months ago.
I decided to accept his apology—wholeheartedly this time. I honestly thought that was the end of our conversation. It wasn’t. I should have known. Small talk led to even more small talk and we exchanged numbers. Yeah, what was I thinking, right?
He wanted to call but our conversations basically sounded like crickets chirping so I opted out by texting instead. He still wanted to call me. Ugh! I guess I got so accustomed to communicating via text because of my recent a-hole of an ex. Not a good thing. We finally talked. It was awkward. The conversation was boring with a capital B. I was a good sport about it and eventually made some excuse to get off the phone.
Over the next few days, our conversations got more tolerable but his calls and messages became too constant and ever so irritating. I heard from him morning, noon, and night! He asked inappropriate questions about my fun bags, toes and lady garden. He reeked of Eau de Pervert! Piu! I expressed to him that such topics made me uncomfortable. Honestly speaking, it made me uncomfortable because I wasn’t attracted to him and couldn’t imagine ever being naked with him.
He wanted to take me out on a date. I accepted but after thinking about our last encounter, my lack of attraction, and those questions he asked, I was wary about it. I expressed to him that I didn’t see this going any further than of a platonic nature. Then he played the “I’m a good man and I will spoil you but I guess you’re not ready for a real man” card. And I thought to myself, “I gave all these other losers a chance. One date with him shouldn’t hurt, right?”
This past Saturday evening was our scheduled date. He contacted me early Saturday morning and wanted to know what I was doing. I told him that I was going out to breakfast with a friend. In an effort to get me to cancel said plans, he told me that he had $5 in his pocket to buy my breakfast and that he wanted to see me. I thought his offer was kind but I declined. But then it hit me—aren’t we suppose to be going out on a date that evening? How does he expect to take me out on a $5 budget? Something was definitely fishy about this.
I asked him about the details of our plans and how they would mesh with his budget. That’s when the truth came out. His plan was to come over to watch movies at my place. Re-f#cking-wind!!!! Did this dude Rick Rolled me? Claiming that he wanted to take me out on a date but now wanted to park his dusty behind on my couch and watch movies instead? This can’t be real. He can’t be serious.
Calgon take me the eff away.
Issue no Amber Alert.
Do not contact Texas Equusearch.
Just take me away and never bring my Black ass back!!!
I told him that we would see each other when he’s ready to take me out. I didn’t appreciate being lied to like that and I was going to make him wait it out. By no means am I a gold digger. I wasn’t expecting a lavish dinner by candlelight at a fancy restaurant. I wasn’t expecting to order the Maine lobster with black truffles and sample the most expensive wine as a violin player serenaded us at our table. (Wow, that actually sounded kinda nice.) Did I mention that the maitre d’ is oh so handsome?
Oops. Back to reality…
Damn it, I just wanted a real date. Can a sista get a real date? As in somewhere public? I’m sick of looking at these four walls! Why do these sea of Negroes and that one particular Anglo (and that one Indian from India) always trying to hide a sista in my (or their) place? Going to the movies and having dinner at a reasonably priced restaurant would have been suffice. Is that too much to ask? You would think that I was asking them to end world hunger or obtain peace in the Middle East. Gosh!
He kept insisting on seeing me. Most dudes would have said either of the following: “Well, f#ck you then b#tch. You ain’t that cute no damn way,” or “You’re right. I said that I was going to take you out and I will.” They would not have been a big ole baby about it! He kept calling and texting. It’s started to get real creepy. I had to put my foot down and tell him about his behavior. Destiny’s Child had a name for people like him—bug a boo! I have ignored all calls and text messages since.
Maybe I should have taken that date. I should have met him at Subway, made him watch me eat a $5 foot long courtesy of his coins and never spoke to him again. Maybe that would have taught him a damn lesson!
$5 date. I must be so special. What would my father say if he were alive?
- I Am Not Your Whore (Part II) (paramourinwaiting.wordpress.com)