It's really not my fault. It's like I have a low tolerance for BS and stupidity and if I feel you're on either, I think it's my civic duty to call you on it. The only problem is, that as a man, you really don't want this five foot something, will cry at the drop of hat, emotional, feminine, soft, delicate..supple..creature putting you in your place...and especially in public. I had missed the memo.
I can't even recall where I met him. We had been talking for a week or so but he invited me to come hang out at some new spot. He chats me up...but doesn't say much. He's one of those dudes that the whole crew is in the booth and you can tell he's the ringleader. Real CEO type, he invites me to the booth. Needless to say, minutes later, I'm plastered. No, like white girl wasted.
I'm now in the car. I'm now in White Plains. I'm now in this condo. I'm now throwing up.
This guy is dope. Not only does he damn near hold my head up, but wipes my face, gives me water, toothbrush and alka seltzer, but let's me pass out across his bed and sleeps on the couch. Gentleman.
We wake up..he cooks breakfast. Drives me all the way home and I'm now open.
I mean really, there are few men out there, and even fewer of them have manners. Not once did he disrespect me, take advantage or make me feel embarrassed that I can't drink to save my life. Nice.
We go out again and I meet the crew. He introduces me to one of them as his travel agent and says, "Where do you want to go"? I said the first thing that popped in my head, "Turks and Caicos." He looks at his friend and says, "You heard that right?" His friend shakes his head yes.
Two days later he calls me up like, "He couldn't get Turks, we're going to Miami, call off."
Nice.
We're now in sunny Miami. Sun, the crew, Wet Willies, that one Cuban spot with the banging food, The Setai, Nikki Beach. I live.
I was spending the morning tanning, reading a book hanging out at the beach, while he ran around with the boys....This is the life.
Dinner. Prime 112. First of all, you can't even get a seat at Prime 112 and there are like ten of us on the balcony. I'm impressed. Not because of these material things, but more impressed because this is the "norm." Like this is how these people live on the regular. Business trips and vacays. Friends and laughter...I have something to aspire to. Then...it happens.
Now I had already noticed that he had this slightly aggressive manner at times. It was like one of those...you are woman, I am man, there's a difference and you better know it. I had let a couple of comments slip through the cracks, I mean no one is perfect. I don't know if it was the Riesling or his ego got the best of him. But...he said something to me out of pocket at the table. I'm the only girl there and I feel a certain way. In a low voice but not low enough that our half of the table didn't hear me. I say through clenched teeth, "Who the eff you think you talking to"? (I didn't say eff...you know what I said) I continued, "I don't know who the eff you think you're dealing with...I'm not the one." I turn away and continue eating, thinking to myself like yeah...I just put him in his place.
He doesn't even flinch. Everything is smooth and as normal as it was before I said it. We finish dinner, we are all laughing and talking. He even says to the travel agent friend, "You owe us Turks and Caicos"! I'm delighted.
We get back to the room. Still no response, no funny acting, no nothing. Mad cool. Now the next day we were suppose to leave sometime in the afternoon, but I wanted to catch an earlier flight to cover a shift at work. I had mentioned it earlier but didn't think anything of it until he had asked me did I want to take the earlier flight, if so, I could do stand-by and if not he would change it. I say stand-by is fine and we continue on with "living it up." We hang out that night, still no conversation about the incident. Nothing.
The next morning, I pack my things, get ready to leave out. He calls the concierge, has a car waiting for me, because him and the boys are going to leave later, walks me downstairs puts my luggage in the car and says, "I'll call you when I get back."
Cool. I get back to NYC and leave him a message like, "Made it! Talk to you later"!
That afternoon. No call. The next day. No call. I call to check on him. No answer. The next day. No call. No answer. The next day. No call. No answer. You see where this is going? A week or two later. No call. No answer.....After that I stop calling.
I seen The Truth out a couple weeks later and he shakes his head at me. I say, "What's up? No call no answer"? He says...."Shorty, your mouth is crazy. You may not tolerate BS, but I don't tolerate being disrespected."
Salty.
I couldn't even respond at the time. I learned a very valuable lesson that night.
I see The Truth out sometimes and I'm always invited over to the booth, treated with respect and we're actually pretty cool. I saw him last summer and he said, "Look at you all grown up." I laughed. I also, did grown up things and said, "I never got to apologize for disrespecting you, (Miami probably wasn't the first time I said something smart) I was young, pretentious...you know. I do apologize." He was shocked. Impressed. But shocked. He put his hands around my neck playfully and said, "You are a handful....I could have killed you, but you're a good girl. I'm glad to see you all grown up."
A girl walked over to the booth and she sat on the other side of him. She had fresh tan lines. I knew where they were from.
356.
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