Guard your grill..
This is a story about never putting anything past anyone.
When I started this blog, I said I wasn't going to talk about #59. He's the equivalent of the forbidden topic. I never wanted to speak of or hear about him again. In hindsight, I think I would be doing a great disservice by not telling this story.
I pride myself on the fact that, no matter what bad has happened to me throughout the course of dating, I can still smile. I admit that this story is a little harder to smile about, but this post is going to be the equivalent of my chuckle.
I met #59 at the barbershop where I used to take my son to get his hair cut. He was from New York, new to the area, and everyone thought that it would be cool for us to go out on a date. We did.
Pause: I usually don't like to stretch someone to their limits on a first date. I try to pick a reasonable restaurant so that there isn't any stress, but I am a DRINKER. I had several glasses of wine with dinner. The bill came to about $75, and all he had was $80. This has nothing to do with the story. I just want y'all to know that I notice shit like that.
One date turned into several more, and of course, we were getting it IN. He was damn good in bed, but just hold on to that fact for a minute.
I did something with #59 that I never do with anyone that I date seriously. I introduced him to my kids almost immediately. I caught a lot of shit for it from my friends, but he was generally very good with them so I felt good about my decision. Hold on to that fact as well.
Things started getting strange between #59 and I. He was moving too fast. And by too fast I mean that this nigga's clothes were in my closet every time I went to grab a fucking shirt. He was slowly moving his shit in and I didn't like it.
I did what any mature woman would do--I picked a fight with his ass. I told him to go home and grabbed EVERYTHING that I could see that belonged to him and took it to him (when he wasn't there). He asked why I did it, and I told him that I wasn't his shelter. I mean, we were still cool, but I wanted to make sure the living arrangements were separate. Clear boudaries guys, clear boudaries.
Things continued. My kindness is often taken for weakness.
Pause: I don't argue much. I don't flip out. Disagreements with me occur as common conversation, and sometimes I believe people don't take me seriously because of it.
So wouldn't you know it, a couple months later his stuff is slowly showing up in my damn closet again. Men don't listen! Strike one!
I told y'all he was from New York. He made several trips there during the course of this relationship. I've never been to NY. The first time he went, I said nothing. The second time, I told him I would like to go the next time. The third time, he asked to use my car (I said no), asked me to get him a rental (I said no), and didn't ask me to go. Oh no! Strike two!
The third time he went to NY, he went under the pretense that he was performing this gospel rap song with some of his friends at his dad's church.
God don't like ugly.
By the time that he got back, people were talking. Lies started to come out. Two things that I don't do is tolerate a liar and a thief. I just needed one lie to stick.
Come to find out, there was no performance. Strike three buddy!
Oh, but the tables turned all the way around on my ass!
Pause: Remember that great sex I told you about. As the lies were being exposed, I also learned he was popping Viagra to keep up with me. He was younger than me. Y'all can't see it, but I'm popping my collar right now.
So I called him up and told him in my nice calm voice that I didn't want to see him anymore, and that his things would be located outside behind the dumpster. After he yelled at me through the phone for a while, I ended the conversation and went to bed.
Some hours later, my friend woke me up and told me that someone was knocking at my door. "No the fuck it ain't! It's almost 2 in the morning." But sure enough, there he was, banging on my door like the damn police. Before I could even turn the handle, he was inside my apartment throwing me into my glass entertainment center. After that the battle began, he threw me up against the wall, trashed my room, broke some things and punched me in the face.
Did you hear what I just said? This dude pulled back like I was another nigga and molly whopped my ass! Mr. I Would Never Hit a Woman Because I Have a Sister and a Mother. Mr. Sensitive. He split my face open, before I could even push him out the door, blood was all over the floor. I was never hit by a man before that, and I haven't been hit since.
The worst part was that Mr. Good with Kids pulled this little stunt in front of my son. I'm not scarred, but he is. I'm still trying to undo that damage.
#59 did teach me one very important lesson. Guard your grill.
I want your input for my next blog, I want to know what it's like out in the world for those of us dating with kids. Men, women, I want to hear it all. What are the rules that you go by? How do you handle the other person's kids? Do you avoid people of the opposite sex with children? Leave comments below or tell me about it on my FB page. facebook.com/missblondecurls
Until the next time.
When I started this blog, I said I wasn't going to talk about #59. He's the equivalent of the forbidden topic. I never wanted to speak of or hear about him again. In hindsight, I think I would be doing a great disservice by not telling this story.
I pride myself on the fact that, no matter what bad has happened to me throughout the course of dating, I can still smile. I admit that this story is a little harder to smile about, but this post is going to be the equivalent of my chuckle.
I met #59 at the barbershop where I used to take my son to get his hair cut. He was from New York, new to the area, and everyone thought that it would be cool for us to go out on a date. We did.
Pause: I usually don't like to stretch someone to their limits on a first date. I try to pick a reasonable restaurant so that there isn't any stress, but I am a DRINKER. I had several glasses of wine with dinner. The bill came to about $75, and all he had was $80. This has nothing to do with the story. I just want y'all to know that I notice shit like that.
One date turned into several more, and of course, we were getting it IN. He was damn good in bed, but just hold on to that fact for a minute.
I did something with #59 that I never do with anyone that I date seriously. I introduced him to my kids almost immediately. I caught a lot of shit for it from my friends, but he was generally very good with them so I felt good about my decision. Hold on to that fact as well.
Things started getting strange between #59 and I. He was moving too fast. And by too fast I mean that this nigga's clothes were in my closet every time I went to grab a fucking shirt. He was slowly moving his shit in and I didn't like it.
I did what any mature woman would do--I picked a fight with his ass. I told him to go home and grabbed EVERYTHING that I could see that belonged to him and took it to him (when he wasn't there). He asked why I did it, and I told him that I wasn't his shelter. I mean, we were still cool, but I wanted to make sure the living arrangements were separate. Clear boudaries guys, clear boudaries.
Things continued. My kindness is often taken for weakness.
Pause: I don't argue much. I don't flip out. Disagreements with me occur as common conversation, and sometimes I believe people don't take me seriously because of it.
So wouldn't you know it, a couple months later his stuff is slowly showing up in my damn closet again. Men don't listen! Strike one!
I told y'all he was from New York. He made several trips there during the course of this relationship. I've never been to NY. The first time he went, I said nothing. The second time, I told him I would like to go the next time. The third time, he asked to use my car (I said no), asked me to get him a rental (I said no), and didn't ask me to go. Oh no! Strike two!
The third time he went to NY, he went under the pretense that he was performing this gospel rap song with some of his friends at his dad's church.
God don't like ugly.
By the time that he got back, people were talking. Lies started to come out. Two things that I don't do is tolerate a liar and a thief. I just needed one lie to stick.
Come to find out, there was no performance. Strike three buddy!
Oh, but the tables turned all the way around on my ass!
Pause: Remember that great sex I told you about. As the lies were being exposed, I also learned he was popping Viagra to keep up with me. He was younger than me. Y'all can't see it, but I'm popping my collar right now.
So I called him up and told him in my nice calm voice that I didn't want to see him anymore, and that his things would be located outside behind the dumpster. After he yelled at me through the phone for a while, I ended the conversation and went to bed.
Some hours later, my friend woke me up and told me that someone was knocking at my door. "No the fuck it ain't! It's almost 2 in the morning." But sure enough, there he was, banging on my door like the damn police. Before I could even turn the handle, he was inside my apartment throwing me into my glass entertainment center. After that the battle began, he threw me up against the wall, trashed my room, broke some things and punched me in the face.
Did you hear what I just said? This dude pulled back like I was another nigga and molly whopped my ass! Mr. I Would Never Hit a Woman Because I Have a Sister and a Mother. Mr. Sensitive. He split my face open, before I could even push him out the door, blood was all over the floor. I was never hit by a man before that, and I haven't been hit since.
The worst part was that Mr. Good with Kids pulled this little stunt in front of my son. I'm not scarred, but he is. I'm still trying to undo that damage.
#59 did teach me one very important lesson. Guard your grill.
I want your input for my next blog, I want to know what it's like out in the world for those of us dating with kids. Men, women, I want to hear it all. What are the rules that you go by? How do you handle the other person's kids? Do you avoid people of the opposite sex with children? Leave comments below or tell me about it on my FB page. facebook.com/missblondecurls
Until the next time.
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