Friday, August 16, 2013

Morning Creep

My name is HatinĂ¡.
Today is Friday, August 16, 2013.
It's 6:47 am.
I have a story. 

Yesterday I deleted my POF profile and created a new one. New name, new pics etc. I had to shake off the cray cray that had been creeping into my messages of late... So I get up early this morning to pee and see a message from a dude that I was supposed to have got in contact with a couple weeks ago. He had expressed how he didn't want to just talk online and had left his home number for me to use at my discretion. I had every intention of calling, but somehow never got around to it. It's now about 6 am. 

The message reads, "hey there what's your number?" 
Since we have already chatted before and it is the ass crack of dawn, I send the number. 
I cannot type when I'm half sleep, it annoys me. 
He then sends another message, "you available this morning?"
I pause. "To talk? Sure."
Him: "Boooooo"
Me: "Boo? Really? Just use the number. It's too early to be typing."
He doesn't respond. I wait a few minutes then roll over to go back to my early morning slumber.  
Of course as soon as me and my pillow get back on good terms, the phone rings...
Him: "you happy now?"
Me: "you asked for the number dear. Good morning."
He laughs.
He's like "well I asked to see you this morning and you just want to talk on the phone..."
I say "First of all you asked was I available this morning. I said yes, TO TALK... Secondly, it's like 6:30 am. I'm in the bed. And why are you trying to meet me so early?"
Him: "well I have to work later just wanted to see you before then. Do you drive?"
Me: "no."
Him: " I don't have a problem coming to get you. I need to run to Walmart to take care of something really important. But that's about it. What time were you getting up?"
Me: "I don't know. Not now. But if you wanted to go to breakfast or something, I could get up around 8."
Him: "We'll I don't know about breakfast. You could just come over to my house and we chill, you know, party. If you like what you see and I like what I see then we just go from there.. we could fix a little lunch a little dinner (!!!) and then I could bring you back around 8 before I got to work at 9."

Before I get to my response to this box full of shenanigans, lets break this down...
You. Stranger dude.
Want me to get up out of MY bed at the ass crack of morning. Ride with you to Walmart.  Where I don't have to come in. ( yes I skipped that part of the sparkling conversation)
Then go back home with you. In your car. Basically give you permission to kidnap me.
Where you have EVERY intention of fucking. (I'm slow, it took me a minute)
And this sex? It's supposed to last ALL DAY LONG because in your grand plan you are dropping me back home at EIGHT O'CLOCK AT NIGHT!

And..... We're back.

Me: "wait, what?"
Him: "what's wrong?"
Me: "what's right? You are expecting me to come to your house and take off my clothes? No intentions on doing ANYTHING like that."
Him: "I mean, we both grown. If we blend, yeah, I mean, we ain't on e-harmony or something..."
Me: "Nigga it aint a sex site either"
Him: " well you expecting me to come and get you JUST TO MEET? That's a long way for meeting somebody, I mean, we grown..."
Me: "And because you offered to come and get me because you WANT some ass, I should be GIVING you some ass because you came to get me? If you only knew how fucking crazy you sound. Boy, get the fuck off my phone please!"
Him: "so you don't want to see if we blend? I mean, if we don't, we could just be straight up..."
Me: "Straighten your damn self up, you lunatic..."
And I pressed END.

I'm never going to find a man.
I'm going back to bed. 

Saturday, August 3, 2013

Donut Shop and the Attack of the PopPop

Yesterday, I'm sitting in Dunkin Donuts on 14th and U Streets NW. Sipping a strawberry Coolatta and tapping away on the iPad trying to plot my next Friday "move". All of a sudden I hear, "You can stop texting him, I'm right here." I pause. And feel someone standing over me... I'm like, "WHAT!?!?" and look up at Morgan Freeman's older brother... Gray nostril hairs waving at me.


Dude, excuse me I'm being disrespectful.
SIR, you are old enough to be my grandfather. And both of them are dead. I KNOW you didn't just show up over here trying to Mack!

Then he and his boy (man? gentleman? idk) proceed to sit down next to me and have a heated and lively discussion about which of them was the bigger "playa". Somebody come and get your great-uncles... The subject of the conversation then turned to their friend who wasn't there, Dee. "Dee ain't a playa no more. That nigga in love." I hope so! Who wants to be nearly 70 years old out here still hitting on unsuspecting women in the donut shop? Oh. Y'all do. My bad.

I don't know what it is with me and the PopPops... PopPop is my name for any man over the age of 60 still trying to holla. I really think it's the natural hair. Old men are forever hitting me with "Hey Sister", "You wearing that hair baby"... I must remind them of a better time. A younger self. Applejack hats and leather pea coats... Lots of polyester... Full heads of hair and teeth that weren't convertible...

Meeting quality men is a challenge, but I haven't started trolling for senior citizens. Yet.