Trust This Is Super Random

Wish me luck. I had an interview Wednesday at another property for a new job. Better pay, more authority, and better hours.

Not to mention a glowing recommendation from my manager. I did well if I don't say so myself. It pays to know 85% of the folks at this property.

And I’ll be back in my old stomping grounds, Crystal City, so I can go home and take a nap on my lunch breaks *lol*.

I am so glad I am off for the remainder of the week. I think I must have counted every single tile in the lobby this past weekend, that’s how slow and boring it was. It’s only so many times I can check my email before I begin to think I’m OCD *oh wait according to Scientologist that does not exist* and folks don’t really update their blogs on the weekend too busy having a life.

I think my muse is coming back because I have been feeling my inspiration to write. I have about two stories already saved as a draft; I’m just giving folks a chance to actually catch up *lol*

You should already know by now I am a talker.

And you can not outtalk me.

So why did this dude, who I gave my number to out of plain “If I give you number will you get the fuck out my face and let me eat my damn sandwich”, call me yesterday at about midnight?

Lesson #6- Do not call my phone after midnight.

A long time ago JBN and I came to an understanding that the opposite sex could not call either of our phones after a certain time. More importantly, "midnight”.

We ain’t got shit to talk about after midnight except “Your place or mine” and “spit or swallow”? Those are considered “booty call hours”. I repeat ”booty call hours”. Only and only if we are fucking *and good sex at that* can a male call me after midnight.

Otherwise…Nigga you better need some blood and I’m the only one in the world with your blood type.

Even then, you might get the dial tone. Shit, I lose blood every month already for free.

Oh I won’t get into the time after September 11th I went to a blood drive and the nurse pulled out a fucking beaker on my ass.

We’re talking about a girl who asks the laboratory to look up the old blood I gave the last time I was there because I know they didn’t use all that blood in the test tube.

And I’m not one to get grossed out easily but watching my blood fill a test tube makes me a little woozy.

So I let the nurse fill up her beaker with my blood and I kid you not I almost passed out when I stood up. I was weak as shit and this broad talking about, “Go eat a sandwich”. Fucking vampire sucked me dry. She’s lucky it was for September 11th.

*LOL* Ok one of those tangents again…

So anyway, I’m half sleep when my phone goes off. I’m now in the habit of leaving my ringer on so when My Love went off, it scared the shit out of me.

Umpt there goes a number without a name attached. So I hit quiet and try to nod back off.

Why did it go off again? Like, “Oh no she ain’t going to ignore me, she’s gonna pick up this phone.” Same fucking number.

Therefore, my sleep has officially been interrupted. JBN is knocked the fuck out mumbling in his sleep and shit so I pick up the phone with an attitude.

Me: *snaps* Hello?!

Dude: Hey baby it’s me.

Me: Me….who? Jesus? Cuz that’s the only nigga that should be ringing my phone at these hours!”

Dude: *laugh* I see you still got that sharp mouth Ima have to do something about that *laugh*

Me: Well I guess you’re going to have to do that with the dial tone because I’m about to hang up…

Dude: Dang baby…you don’t remember me? Remember I met you in April at Subway? You gave me your number?

Me: I don’t even remember what I had on yesterday let alone some dude I gave a number to in fucking April! Well it’s December now I advise you to put my number back into whatever pocket you got it out of and forget about it!

*click*

Put the phone on vibrate and rolled my ass back over. JBN woke up on the tail end and of course, “So…some dude calling you after midnight huh?”

You know what babes…I am so not in the mood. It’s not like I told him to call. I mean the nerve of this nigga! I swear men balls are getting bigger and bigger each day.

Back when I was single *oh so many years ago it seems* if and only if I actually gave out my real number, you had three days and then it was “Holler Back Youngin’”. No time for phone games and stubborn waiting games.

But then again I did relish in my single life. I loved every minute of it. Just by chance *and good sex* did I turn a FWB *Friends with Benefits* into an actual boyfriend. And he lasted a long time…well he has held my interest the longest.

What I really like though are the people who want to hear every single negative detail of my relationship.

Yeah we argue. Yeah we debate each other down on shit that is frowned down on in other relationships yet we try to “justify’ our behavior. We have difficulties like every relationship…but we don’t feel the need to dwell on it.

Because we communicate. We talk *ok yell sometimes* it out. We communicate very well via text, IM, emails and plain face to face.

Yeah my relationship isn’t perfect. Yeah I do fucked up shit that in some countries my ass would have been stoned to death. He does fucked up shit too. I’m sure many of days folks probably scratch their head and say, “Damn JBN is a good ass dude because Tenacious is just itching for an ass whooping”

But hey he knew all this shit about me before we got together and I know my behavior is fucked up, I’m getting better at not flirting with every cute man in sight, but understand I would never do anything to intentionally hurt him. There’s nothing wrong with a little window-shopping every now and then. It is not as if he is not checking out other women. It is human nature.

However, we have a weird relationship anyway. If you see us out in the streets, we give off “Just Friends” vibes. We are together but folks have to really sit and think if we are “together” together.

However, hey like I said I know I’m flawed. At least I can admit when my behavior is fucked up.

Ok wait…Did I go off on another tangent?

Damn phone call from DRAMA!

I can’t help if I’m not one of those girls who blabs only about the bad shit in my relationship and never highlights the good. In fact, my policy is generally to keep my lips zipped. Because then you get your girls on your side and ready to bust out the ‘Ripple for the “He Ain’t Shit” Party and when shit goes back to the good, who’s the first person to remind you of all the grimy shit you’ve said about your s/o in a fit of anger?

Your friends.

Therefore, I keep mum on my relationship. It is really no one’s business…is it?

I’m not the bragging type either. I don’t think sugar will not melt in his mouth but I’m not going to downplay him because every one else around me are griping about the fucked up shit Ray Ray did this week.

I just keep my lips zipped.

However, don’t throw rocks at me because for the most part my relationship is straight. No major beefs.

If he was cheating, I will actually clap on him his back and suggest he teach a class for men to get it right. No woman’s intuition, no “Spidey Sense”…nothing. No “signs”, no lipstick *or lip-gloss* on the collar…nothing. And he is a horrible liar. *lol*

Would I be hurt? Depends on the person honestly. If it is someone I know or cool with, yeah I will be hurt…then angry. Some random broad out in the street? More concerned about diseases than him actually cheating. Would I kick his ass to the curb? I guess that depends. When I cheated, he took me back. I don’t think I’m that nice though *lol*.

Ok I have gotten off subject enough. *lol*

Wow the shit you type when you’re on the phone with people *lol*