Is This the Zombie Apocalypse? Nope, Just Season of the "Cuff"

Y'all heard about "cuffing season"? Apparently it's all the rage among the in-the-know Tweeters and the like. It is described as the phenomena that occurs when the weather begins to cool and the people that have been getting their whore on all summer decide that it's time to settle down and get a winter boo-thang...

I dismissed it. I really did. MISTAKE.

In the past 10 days, I have received emails, text messages, naked pics, phone calls and Voxers from no less than 8 men that I haven't heard anything from for anywhere from 6 months to over a year. All on some old "I need to see you" mantra... It is almost like something from one of those Twilight Zone episodes. In my mind I see them crawling out of fresh graves, staggering to my doorstep.

I mean really... What is it about me that says "Hey dude that I had a few conversations/a drink/an interesting online chat with X amount of months ago. Please contact me and attempt to pick up exactly where you left off with zero amount of interest from me."??? It's kinda insane. No. Scratch that. It's totally insane.

Return of the Mack (a mini post)

It's been two full weeks since my blaxploitation/70s nightmare with Usher. There has been no contact save a text message conversation regarding an earring I left there floating in his bed... SMH

Just when I mentioned in passing to a friend that I hadn't heard from him, not 15 minutes after that, he called.

I did not answer.

In the past 12 hours he has called 3 times.

I have NOT answered.

And he's left the most charming messages...

"Hey baby. You ready for Daddy's cum yet?"

"I'm trying to put together a little freak fest tonight. You know I can't do it without my bottom bitch." (yep. verbatim.)

"The party can't start until I hear from my slut mama. Call Daddy."

Oh, Usher...

There are no words.  *wall slide*

A Fling is a Fling is a Fling... Right?

my girlfriend hipped me to an adult dating website known as fling (dot) com about 4 or 5 years ago. i started out creating a profile as a curiosity, uploaded my provocative pics of t&a and almost immediately my inbox was flooded with "prospectives"... yeah, i had to weed thru the sea of weirdos, perverts, losers and infants to get to the decent, normal dudes, but being a veteran of the personals both online and pre-internet, that wasn't so hard.

one of the first messages i received was from "Corey". tall, dark, early 40s, single dad, from Charlotte, worked in the mental health field and a graduate student.

i had only been on the site a few days, with my sassy declarative statements and my catchy, pseudo-slutty screen name when he sent me a message. i responded. we exchanged numbers and a hot and heavy phone courting and correspondence began. we talked about EVERYTHING. sex. kids. school. work. we covered all the bases. i lost my job about 2 weeks after we started talking and as a pick-me-up he offered to make a weekend trip up the road to see me. he picked me up and we headed out to the edge of Maryland to chill at his sister's house (she was out of town). being as though this was a purely therapeutic visit and we had vibed so well via phone, the comfort level was amazing. we grabbed a couple pizzas and some wine and made our way to the spot.

the sex was amazing! coupled with the thunderstorm that popped up on the midst and the lovely Prince Albert piercing that was a most pleasant surprise, i had NO complaints. He even got up the next day and cut my hair for me! (i had been complaining about getting rid of my fro.) he drove me home the following afternoon and we parted ways... though we didn't see each other again, the positive interaction fueled my taste in "Fling flings" and i've been using the site as my dating pool ever since.

not that  there haven't been some flakes...

there was another dude, "Gary"... he was local, 32, 1 kid, just broke up with his baby mama. he was pestering me to let him fix me breakfast, he was working security while in culinary school... it took about 2 weeks but finally I said okay. he seemed harmless, a little stressed, but he was extra cute so...

he picks me up after I take my kids to school. it was overcast and rainy. so we are driving and chit chatting and I notice that we've bypassed the neighborhood he told me he lives in. I'm like I thought we were going to your house. he says "oh nah. my mother is home."

WHAT???

"i thought I told you my mom lives with me? I got the keys to my man's house, imma take you over there."

REALLY DUDE? that's what you wanna tell me? that you can't take me to your house because your mama LIVES WITH YOU?  and imma roll with you to ANOTHER n!&&@$ house? yeah. o...k...

my face belies none of this capitalized conversation I have going on in my head... I simply say oh I can go to my house... he is almost clicking his heels together in anticipation. we pull up and I'm like "aight. I'm out." jumped out, closed the door, went inside, never looked back. he called and texted and messaged me for a month after. I never responded. not even once. crazy fucka!

so my general experiences have been a mix of men I spent more than one occasion with sexual or otherwise. Of the few who became "one-and-dones", the package wasn't as shiny as it seemed...

still I have met a number of good men over the years. accomplished, well-rounded, secure, nice brothers. rare that slim-to-none of them were emotionally available, huh?

and the Hits keep coming...

(this is actually something i wrote a few years ago, but it SOOO fits. STILL. LOL)

Doesn't feel good when you run into an ex- and there are no regrets? not one moment when you say "damn he looks good and i wonder does he ever..." (yeah just like Ne-yo in that old video for ''do you" ) and on a sidenote, how in the hell did she know which phone booth in the desert he made the call from? if you haven't ever seen the video, get yourself some bizness and check it out!

oh, where was i? oh yeah, no regrets. i ran into an old boyfriend on the subway platform yesterday. how fitting, being as though our shiznit was a trainwreck from start to finish. Let's call him "M". M was the epitome of tall dark and handsome. you want to know how i KNOW i had never felt this way about anyone before?

IT WASN'T ABOUT THE SEX. i don't even remember much about it. but ask me something about what he thinks or how he feels about any random subject. i bet i can tell you in vivid detail. M was not all bad. he was intelligent and funny. he was the first man who i ever felt always told me the truth. i never doubted him (yall see where this is going, right?). we were talking about marriage a week into the "relationship". i was a different desperate mess back then. and he probably could smell the play-doh in my head. i felt like i needed to be molded, shaped, formed and reborn in his image. the man... not Jesus, i was sick!

he picked me up from work from day one, let me drive his car, hold his ATM card, meet his kids (all 6 of them...) all the bogus ish you tell yourself means he trusts you, he wants you. and most importantly he TALKED. he loved to share, always wanted to know what i was thinking, how i was feeling. i was ridiculously smitten within days. 

My Friends Hated Him. 

of course they did. "he was too deep", they "couldn't relate to him", they"didn't want me to be happy". so what does this chick, the nut do?

stay away from her friends!

all i need is M. he is my husband. my future. i used to pray i would get pregnant by this man. I swear if that's not a sign that God knows what is best for us, nothing is.

M's mother even said "yall are together more than MARRIED people". when we weren't working, we were together. ALL THE TIME! 

M's big thing was self reflection. knowing yourself, finding yourself, discovering your divine purpose. i think he thought his divine purpose was to drill this into me until i REALIZED that there was something wrong with me. i didn't share! i avoided questions! i was so uncomfortable talking about myself! what was i hiding? why wasn't i happier with me? i didn't know whether i was coming or going. and then on Thanksgiving he told me he didn't want to be my anything. not my friend, not my boyfriend, nothing. he didn't want to keep "having to tell me what to do". he had "been where i was and had grown past it and didn't want to revisit it".

can i tell you something in me curled up into a ball and died that night?

2 days later he asked was i still going to spend the weekend in Delaware with he and his brother and his brother's girl. his words, "Charles (his bro.) wants to know if you are still going with us?" i said didn't you tell him? he said no, and you can still go. (drum roll please...)

so i went. and i brought a book with me. we chilled. we barely talked, but we danced late one night to "Summer Rain" by Carl Thomas. Every single time i hear that song i think of "M". on the ride home, we had a horrible argument because he said i was excluding myself the whole weekend because i was reading.

but that wasn't the end. 

i spoke to him in January on his birthday. then nothing. one night in April there is a knock on my door. it's M. and i am honestly UN-enthused. he says "Mann (his best friend) was asking about you and i was like we are right by here house so we came to see you" i'm like O...K.

So i go downstairs. There is Mann, my boy, i really liked him. he is soo f-ing cool. M is in the trunk doing something. so i get in and start talking to his friend. Mann is like "why you do my boy like that, you know he loves you." 

---record scratch---

 

What?!?!?!

he told you i quit him? Mann is looking at me like i am a certified nut... he was like yeah. i said he is such a coward. your boy told me he didn't want to be my ANYTHING anymore. now it's Mann's turn to look confused. he was like all that nigga does is TALK ABOUT YOU. (in hindsight, was this the set-up? if it was i was falling for it hook-line-and sinker)

fastforward>>> i rode with M to take Mann home. on the way back he pulls over and has a mini-breakdown. his life is a wreck. he had to leave his job. someone he thought was his friend turned out not to be. his soon was suffering in school. blah Blah and BLAH. i sit and listen in silence. he misses me. he is sorry. he knows he was tripping. he drinks too much. he thinks we are SUPPOSED to be together. blah Blah and BLAH.

so i am a sucker, i am his shoulder, i let him come in, cuddle, spend the night. before we fall asleep he says, "let's get married". i say, "M you have never even said you love me". he says "you should know how i feel". i say "if you wanna marry me, you should be able to say it". and he didn't say it. maybe it was because i was sleepy, but i was strong for a minute. in the bright light of day though, i was rethinking it. the next day we did our old sunday routine, went to the farmers market. got some fried fish and strawberry lemonade and had a lil picnic at the park (i told yall it was good sometimes). i say, "did you mean what you said last night about getting married?" he says "you already answered the question so it doesn't matter anymore." end of discussion.

he takes me home and i don't see or hear from him for another 5 months.

that July 2002, my daddy passed away. he liked M. we even had taken a couple road trips down to Central VA to visit my Dad. and they clicked. so i knew he would want to know he died. but i couldn't reach him. couldn't find him. left messages with his mom, never called me back. so of course because i was a pressed obsessed BI-ATCH, it became MANDATORY that i tell him. IT WAS MY LIFE'S MISSION. i kept calling. it was an obsession.

i finally caught up with M. 

it was September (yes, SEPTEMBER) and i called his mom's prepared to hear the same ol' but she was like hold on.

he gets on, "hello"

me: what's up?

M: ummm, hey whats going on?

(voices in the background)

me: are you busy?

M: uh, hold on.

(muffled voices in the background)

M: yeah, T? ummm, i don't stay here anymore.

me: oh, you moved, i have been trying to get in contact with you becaus..

(he cuts me off)

M: i got married

(i COULD NOT BREATHE!)

me: when?

M: In July.

(ohmigod, he asked me in april and why did i say no, and who is it, and why is he married and i am about to die and i have a headache and i can't breathe and why did i say no and whats wrong with me and .... you get the gist of what was going thru my head while tears are pouring from my eyes and i am a snotty, slobbering mess)

me: so who is it

(just knowing it was a baby momma)

M: you don't know her

(why do i feel like i am being stabbed repeatedly with a blunt object?)

me: oh.... well i just wanted to tell you Daddy died, i thought you would wanna know.

(trying to rush off the phone now)

M: oh baby i am so sorry to hear that. when?

me: JULY

M: well why...?

(i cut him off by hanging up.)

and that was the last conversation i had with him until Monday when i saw him on the metro looking EXACTLY the same way he did so many years ago. i thought i would feel animosity or apprehension. but i didn't. it is what it is and i know i had to experience M to get to this plateau in my life. yes, i am single but i have no complaints. i can say i have my kids and my friends and my family and i am good.

M on the other hand is "of course" not married anymore. and back living with his mom. we had a long detailed conversation Monday night, because of course he gave me his number so we could go out "to lunch or dinner or something".

Shitty Love. (installment 1)

if you didn't know, i'm a romantic. for all my open, pansexual, free love, label-less, non-judgemental, closet submissive personality traits, i love LOVE. 

it's kind of sad.

and not sad because love is a sad state of affairs, but because getting from this: a 39 year old, single, unemployed mother of multiple kids to this: well-loved ecstatically happy chick tethered to the companion of my wildest imaginings seems, well... daunting. and to be extremely honest, shitty, a LOT of the time.

how can i be on a less than 45 days countdown to 40 and i have yet to figure THIS out? what is wrong with me? what is wrong with the men i have chosen and/or allowed to choose me? this funked up dance between the sexes that we do has been my exercise of choice for the past 25 years!

yeah. i'll be back.

The 70s... or something like it.

I've been trying to figure out where to begin this post all day. i'll just start at the beginning.

it was almost 3 in the morning. and it was a booty call.

i had spent the better part of my evening chasing a lifestyle party experience that never materialized. when i got to the man's house, let's call him Usher... when i got to Usher's house, he answered the door naked. like 70s porn star naked... no prelude. no reason.

the first thing i noticed upon entering the residence BESIDES the nekkid man was that the entire place was covered in carpet the color of cocoa powder, a dusty brown that was probably as old as me. he says "up the stairs"... i make it to the bedroom, a king size bed, dresser, chest with a TV on top. typical man room. i drop my bag and take a seat on the edge of the bed. IT RIPPLED.

A. WATER. BED. *i'll wait*

*heavy sigh* a water bed... so Usher strolls in... high yella, tall, very average penis already hard. i'm on the bed fully clothed. he asks if i mind if he smokes a joint. i'm like whatever dude it's your house. he lights up. and lays back on the bed, legs cocked open... rubs my arm and says "did you miss me?" *inner eye roll* 

(back story: he was a blind date last week. we went out for drinks. he is fairly accomplished. a 42 year old bachelor. highly recommended by someone whose opinion i value. we went for a drive while he ran errands before he left town on business and then had a few drinks. ever since then, he has been an interesting, sometimes obnoxious distraction who is a bit of a perv (which i don't mind) bordering on full of himself (which i do). he has tried to engage me in a 3some, talks about himself in the 3rd person as "Daddy" and generally makes me laugh out loud in my head with the "pimpish" voice he puts on when he talks to me. he talks so much smack that i am intrigued. but to tell you the truth, i just have no faith that the experience will be fulfilling. a friend of mine thinks differently. this night is supposed to quell our suspicions either way.)

my answer? i've only seen you one time. he says, "i guess that's a NO" *giggle* after a beat he says "suck my nipple while i smoke this. i say "i that a request or a command?" in that baby-soft-wanna-be-pimp-voice he says "always a request baby" i'm amused. i comply. from the minute i put my mouth on him HE NEVER STOPPED TALKING. not while i sucked his dick. not when he got on top of me. NEVER.

 some of the highlights...

"you ain't never had nobody fuck this pussy like Daddy"

"that's my sweet lil girl"

"you sucking that cock so good Daddy's nasty baby"

"we gonna do everything together"

"you gonna belong to me"

"you are Daddy's slut baby"

"take this cock baby"

and the thing he said about 100 times if he said it once while fucking me as slow and soft as i have ever been fucked in my life (no bueno) "when you make this dick cum you just make it HARDER"

*screaming inside*

after the fiasco, i.e. sex, i slept over. when i got up off the WATER BED to pee this morning, imagine my dismay when i saw that the bathroom was CARPETED as well!!! WTH?

so let's recap. naked greeting. smoking joint. water bed. 40 year old carpet. pimpish pillow talk.

oh, did i mention he initially wanted to "cum inside me"? WHAT? WHAT? it was a true time warp.

The Lack...

of what? you might ask... Every fucking thing. 

scenario: flirting with a dude for over a year via texting and facebook. finally find time in both our schedules to hook up. and it was strictly for "hooking up" purposes. BUT nice guy, great father to his kids, tall, fairly handsome, impeccably dressed, really good on paper.

we get to his house. i strip and proceed to suck all the life out of his dick. he is extremely vocal and grateful.  he stands up to remove his shirt, and in my mind ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE!  he is tall, like professional basketball player tall, 6'4, 6'5... the best way to describe it is he looked like a really tall candle that melted and the wax was pooling and cooling where his waist would be... it was very distracting. and was kinda appalled... he looks so good in his clothes. THEN he gets down to perform HIS VERSION of eating pussy on my juice box and *record scratch*... hey, if you don't like to do it, i'm fine with that, but please, PLEASE do not go down on me and the only part of your face touching my cooch is the tip of your tongue! WTDTA??? needless to say, i had to make him think i couldn't wait for him to fuck me JUST to get his face away from my crotch.