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. 


  1. Please write a book. - Big Wes

  2. LMAOOOOOOOOO!! Big Wes, that's a great idea!!!

  3. Did you say "teeth that aren't convertible" I am literally LOL... I am sorry that you go through these things but I enjoy reading them.