For seven months this dude on my block tried to talk to me. The first time I walked past, he hopped out the truck, Louis scarf, money in his hand. Real clown. You know that BK swag? That flashy like Fab, powerful like Jay type. *Rolls eyes*
I'm not even in the mood for this.
The next time he hops out and walks with me while I'm walking the dog....he's....nice.
At the time I was a personal assistant and had to run to my boss' house to drop off something. I walked outside and it is BRICK ass cold outside. I mean it's almost Chicago cold where you sniffle and your snot freezes before it can go up. EW!
He's outside in his truck talking to someone. He stops me. Before he can say another word, I have to use our friendship to an advantage. I tell him I need a ride.
He obliges.
We get to the destination and I'm thinking like...frick...I gotta give him my number now. It would be mad shady if I don't right? (Half of you just said "No"! out loud.)
I give him my number.
So the next day he texts me, he's pretty cool. Good conversation. Funny and he's also surprisingly wise. We have a discussion about school, politics, you know what I want to do with my life....I dig. But on the other hand. He's hood. Please don't make me go into an explanation of what hood is. He just is.
One day I'm doing a client's hair and he calls me like, order me some Chinese food. You're now asking why can't he do it. Well I had the number saved in my phone and I know what he orders and it's just easier to call put the order in and have them deliver it to his house. Random but true. I order it for him and go back to my business. He calls me back. "What you doing"? The same thing I was doing five minutes ago.
*Rolls eyes*
He calls me back. "They forgot my egg roll." No, I did. But I didn't tell him that...."They did, those dangone people man, that's messed up," I replied.
"You paying for this cause they messed up," he laughs. I laugh with him and he goes, "And hurry up before I bust them windows out." I'm laughing, so is he.
My client is not. She looks at me crazy like girl you are too old to be dealing with The Block Boo. I know, I know. She's like oh Lord hurry up and finish my hair for he come down here trying to kill us. We laugh it off. That's hood.
A few weeks later one day we are chilling, you know movie night, real innocent and he brings this DVD over. What's that scary one where that chick is standing over dude and they tape recording the house? You know what I'm talking about. I can't think of the name and don't feel like googling it.
Anyway, a few weeks after that, I'm in the process of moving. You think he offered to help? Nope. So I'm like light weight over him. He's a great friend, really, a great ear to talk to, funny, entertaining. All that. But boyfriend material? Not.
Okay, so I've moved. There's a lot of unnecessary drama in between but I'll save you the drama. He comes over to hang out. Now, this is not my man. We are strictly platonic. We both are well aware of this fact. So I can talk to and be around whoever I want right? You would think yes. He will tell you no.
During the movie, I'm texting on my phone. The BBall Boo (He's tomorrows story) is texting me after I haven't talked to him in forever! So I mean hey, I'm responding. Now I've gotten mixed answers. Some will say--that's rude, some say--who cares. We'll debate this later. So fast forward to my bathroom break. I come back and guess who's going through my phone.
Awwwwhhh dammit Gina! You do not leave your phone around for nosy Block Boo to go through it. Rule number 1. But again, you all already know I do stupid 'ish.
"Who is The BBall Boo"? (Wouldn't it be funny if I really had these dudes saved in my phone under their blog names?? heh heh heh) He asks.
"None of your business," I attempt to snatch my phone back. It's not happening. This dude is like 6 feet, solid and has the vice grip on my phone.
"How you gone be chilling with me and texting some other dude"?? He's pissed.
Now remember I'm flippant at the mouth and he's hood. The next three minutes of the conversation would embarrass not only the members of my church, but every member of my family and probably myself, so therefore, I will just let you know...it got ugly.
Last sentence I remember was, "Get out. I can't deal with you."
He's now offended. "Word? Get out? Okay, I'll get out."
He's moving too slow for me. I set off a firecracker worth of insults and he's shoots them right back. Now I'm screaming "Get Out" and now he's looking at me like I'm crazy. Now his hands are around my throat. "Yo, you're bugging, quit screaming at me, I'm not no little kid."
"Really? You must be or you're really a girl, because that's the only people that phone snoop."
He releases the grip, and puts his coat on. In between preparing to leave major insults are hurled at me because I was texting while he was in my presence. SMH. Only me.
The next day...I get a text. "Where's my DVD, I gotta give it back to my homeboy it's $50 if I don't, it was a rental."
Are you serious right now?
I didn't even respond. He calls me. Not to talk. To ask me for the DVD.
A week later. He's still asking me for this DVD. Now I'm getting death threats over a DVD.
Yep, death threats....
A few weeks later after the smoke cleared. We talk. He thinks I'm rude for texting. I think he's rude for going through my phone. It is what it is.
We're still cool till this day actually. We catch up every now and again....and randomly sometime we laugh and he goes, "Find my DVD." FML. 353
No comments:
Post a Comment