So remember the guy I went out with a couple of weeks ago? 3 kids, a taste for porsches, gold teeth and a chip the size of a diamond mine? He’s got a fast car? He’s back
After not hearing from him I figured that the feeling was mutual and that we weren’t a match. I don’t know why but a date where the person is trying to put you down for things you can’t change about yourself like university and where you live isn’t really winning. I’ve never understood why I should rewrite my backstory to make men feel better although….I have started lying and telling people I live in Shepherds Bush. What they don’t know is that it means I live there when it’s open as I shop a lot but, it’s a great place for them to drop me off and me to take the tube back to the river. Good times but I digress
So 10 days later I had given up. I mean everyone knows that no contact 3 days after a date is indicative of a blatant lack of time or interest. I don’t see why either is acceptable.
Then we have this text exchange.
Day 1
Goldie: Fronting like a nigga aint on ur mind loooool
Goldie: Hope ur well Miss Thaaaang
Now as you know my precious I was suffering man flu so wasn’t about to reply until the next day
Day 2
Me: Sorry who is this? Being the delicate flower that I am I was sick with man flu for 2 days. I’m dramatic like that. Just left the house XXXX
The XXXX indicate that clearly I know who this is but that 10 days of silence will not go without some comment
20 minutes later
Goldie: Sorry who are you?
Me: Get your own jokes luv.
Goldie: Clearly a woman. A name would be nice
Me: Clearly. I guess I will just remain the text you never quite figured out. Never mind. (I wanted to add you dumb fuck but I think we’ve established that he’s not the brightest.)
Day 3
Goldie: Over stush luv.
THE END
I had to stop myself because it was starting to turn into more than it was. I wanted to say you can’t be over stoosh. But why was I wasting my time engaging with someone who could never be more than a one-time shag. I mean there is no way in hell I would breed with this man. And he has so many issues with class and culture and not knowing who Tracy Chapman is that I don’t even know if I could endure the pillow talk between rounds. I think a few years ago I would have wanted to ensure that we didn’t end things on a sour note. Black London is so small after all but then I thought, hold on, he’s the idiot, why bother?
So in the words of Tracy Chapman She’s got her ticket and yes I’m riding out of here. Have a great weekend my precious
© Chelsea Black
I hate to say I told you so….even though you knew it already but I’m even spending more time than he deserves by writing this comment.
Firstly you don’t hate to say it 😛
Secondly we have indeed wasted more time than he deserves on idiot body. A lush body is not enough these days it seems. I bet I’m going to be labelled fussy or stush by some. Moving onto another one now 😉