The Extra One

First of all.

He called me to hang out. Now I wasn't sure about the whole name situation, but I mean hey, I'll try anything once. Twice, if I like it.

So now, I'm thinking that, if you've ever met or seen me you would know what's acceptable...and what's not.

Showing up in Coogi shorts, a tee shirt, a doo rag, a fitted and Jordans...is probably not your best bet...and he was high. WTF!

(Yes. Coogi shorts. I thought they was basketball shorts until I got up close on em..nah son, they was yarn.)

Did I mention he had on white Armani glasses?

Ugh...I said to myself I wasn't going to blog about this, but I mean...Really? For real?

I'm really not one to judge. I mean, I feel like everyone should have a chance to prove themselves you know. Just because I meet you in sweats doesn't mean that you walk around in sweats all day, does it?

Am I being irrational here? Am I asking for too much? I just don't get it. I'm not looking for someone to show up in a three piece suit, but being presentable is not a crime. I don't know how to even get past that. Like, not only can I not converse with you because you're high, but I have to sit here looking "cute" and have everyone wonder what the hell I'm doing with you.

But it doesn't matter what people think right? I'm so lost.

So then, I weigh the other qualities against this infraction. Job, check. No kids, check. Own home, check. Then I say do those things outweigh the bad and I'm not so sure. Am I wrong? I could be. No really, I could be turned off by something that's really irrelevant.

Or I could just have a standard....and that ain't it...333.