I took off work Friday cause they closed schools on account of that dead ass Reagan. I don't give a fuck bout his old wrinkled ass kickin the bucket. He aint done shit for me.
Anyhoo, I tells Elmo I want to come in earlier than my 11 AM time. All he had open was a 10 AM so I took it. I come in and peek in the Torture Room to see whurr he was. I see him in there with a woman that he normally works out with in the 10 AM time slot, so I'm thinkin this nigga over booked. I take my time coming out of the locker room, thinking I'm still scheduled for my regular time. Come to find out he'd been waiting and I got bitched out for being late. Again. He'll be aiite. I paid for that damn hour and if I want to come in that bitch 11:55 I will. Dammit.
Entering the Torture Room, he notices I have a folded paper in my hand. Of course he takes it out of my hand and assumes it's for him. Well damn. Just cause it's in my hand and I just happen to be seeing you at that very moment don't mean I'm giving you shit. It was actually for him, (smart ass) a few posts from my site I thought he'd be interested in, such as, "Fat People Have Opinions Too" , "Life In The Hood" and "I Was Dreaming When I Wrote This; Forgive Me If It Goes Astray". Because I was too lazy to edit out the parts where I talk about my desire for him, I just let him gon' and read it. That was fun. Sort of. I could see him in the mirror laughing and smirking and pulling his shirt down over his ass when I mention how edible it is. Well shit, it IS...could bouce a quarter off that ass and make change....
Anyhoo, when he's all done and shit I'm waiting for some feedback from this nigga, wondering what he's really thinking...and he gives me a fuckin dissertation on my writing style. The FUCK? That is so not what I was looking for, and he knows it. Once you find out somebody is crushing on you, do you really let that shit ride? Hayle the fuck nawl. You get to the bottom of that shit real quick like. But naw, not his square ass. He did not acknowledge it at all. At all. He was thinking something; I could tell. He coulda gave me the real. I'd like to kick him in the knee caps for that shit.
I took the bitch way out. I shoulda told him straight up. I don't even feel good about it. I woulda told him what the deal was if he didn't get so flummoxed, discombobulated and bumfuzzled when I asked him bout his dating status. What's a girl to do? I'm loving it though. It's fun.
"This shit is chess, it ain't checkers!" Line from one of my favorite movies. Figure out where it came from.
1. Who are you?
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