Let Me Holla At You... Let Me Holla At You

So I wore THIS romper today and there was almost an altercation on Benning Rd between two gentlemen trying to get first, my attention and consequently, my number... 

(The pic is used as a point of reference... Lots of leg and thigh meat on display, but not raunchy.

 Say hi to my Granny and my daughters...)

I was coming out of the corner store with my Dr. Pepper and Dude number one was like hey can I talk to you... I said you ARE talking... He says can I text your phone? I said how old are you? He says 25... I say you're a little too young for me.... He then begins to plead his case...

Meanwhile, Dude number two just slides up, (looks at me) Man, I'm 47 years old. (Takes off his cap) I don't look 47 do I? (Approaches dude number one) Young dude you can't do nothing for her... You can't even buy her a cold soda! (Looks at me) Ain't that right sweetheart? 

I said, UhUh don't put me in it... 

The youngin was like you need to back back partner... The older guy was like you ain't holding me up, imma step to her soon as she turn you down... Young boy was like you mad disrespectful... Number two was all you ain't shit to disrespect mufukka! ... They were going back and forth and it was getting HEATED!

I said "ooh here's my bus."  And got on that joint. Cracking up...

So now I'm at home changing my clothes. Ain't nobody got time for that.

The crazy thing was that the older dude was way more out of line than the young guy... Who walks up to two people you don't know trying to talk to one and carry the other? He needed a hug or something!

What in the hell? 

When I think about myself...

(^^^^ is also the title of a poem by Maya Angelou that I love.)

Every single day we should learn something new about ourselves. And sometimes that knowledge is small and other times it can be a huge revelation. I just realized something pretty fucking huge about myself in the last ten minutes.

I was reading the blog of a friend. A dude I once had a pretty close friendship/sexual relationship with. He's now married. While perusing his blog I realized I am the Queen of lamenting some shit I never had especially when it comes to men. If your life has moved forward (or backward for that matter) I can find a way to make that shit about me. He may never know, but I will ponder the facets of our relationship to the point of obsession most of the time. Who does that? What does that say about the obsessive nature of my romantic relationships? Why can't I let go of shit in my head long after the music has stopped? How is this NOT preparing me for a love my own?

I'm guessing it kind of makes me one of those wrong people to have sex with... That my dear readers is called IRONY.