So… I’m laying in bed on a random Wednesday morning texting my boss to let him know I won’t be in the office. “I’ll log on from home…” #Lies.
A minute later, I get a text message from this gorgeous 20-year old chap I met hanging out a few days ago saying that he’s at work in his salon down the street and that he still has a couple of hours before time to open…invites me to hook up…at the salon. #AYFKM?
Twenty-three minutes later, the ice is broken and the deed is being done to the rhythm of his moans and heavy breathing. Ten minutes later, he’s wiping down and I’m gargling, and we make plans to meet again later.
He doesn’t have a car, so I pick him up from work for a burrito and some get-2-know. Per his story, he manages the salon, as well as another one across town and a photography studio around the corner. For a second, I wondered why we were dining on my dime, and then I realized that his story must be bullshit. How’s a single muthafucka with no kids got three jobs and no car? Shit ain’t that bad!
At this point, I’m thinking about faking a crippling arthritis flare and dropping his broke ass back off at the salon. I know better than to take up with bullshitters. There’s no future in it. No future I would want. But…I don’t have to be in love with him to do it. Hell…my body needs this. #RIPNIPPY
We did it that night, and the next morning, and again the next night. It’s now Friday morning and I’ve just dropped him off at the salon for work. I’m reaching for my Starbucks when I get a text message from him. He really likes me and is glad we met. He can’t wait to see me after work. I think I like him. Really. I mean, I know he’s broke and lies and is full of shit, but…he’s so cute. And I know he does have a job. At least he’s trying. Everybody has to start from somewhere…I mean…right? #rme
Two hours later, I’m at my desk and I get another text message from him. He says a week ago, he paid some woman a deposit on a rental property and two days after moving in, he was evicted because she was in arrears. He has been living in the back room of his salon since then. He just wanted me to know his situation. How considerate. #HOMELESS!
I replied, asking him if he has money for a deposit on a new spot, and he says he’s a few bits shy. I ask him how much he’s expecting to pay for rent each month. He says he can pay “about $250.00”…#really? #rme
I wish him luck and tell him to hit me up later. #aintnobodygottimefodat!
Six hours later, I’m high and he’s texting me asking where I am, when I’m coming to meet him, and if everything is okay. I’m not responding. I’m high and I don’t feel like dealing with this right now. I’ll call him in the morning.
Two weeks and dozens of unreturned text messages later, he’s now terrorizing my cell phone with more drama than an all-drag-queen-cast of Dream Girls.
Him: Why did you do this to me?!
Him: Why did you let me have feelings for you if you were just gonna leave me in the cold?
Him: I can love you if you just give me a chance!
Him: You want me to think you’re mean like this but I know you not! I can tell you have a good heart.
Him: If you ain’t missing me like I’m missin you then you crazy!
So I said: Man…You only knew me for 3 days…
Him: I know it’s not a long time but I felt something. I could tell there was something there and I know you could too. Nobody I ever MET is like you. You just got that something…
Him: WHY WON’T YOU LET ME IN!?!?!?!?!(#dafuk?! Is this fool the goddamn poltergeist?)
Now, I’m blocking his number, filing a restraining order, calling a priest to come bless my home, and a voodoo witch doctor to come and seal the entrances against evil spirits.
I mean, I hope he gets it worked out. I love the homeless, but I don’t wanna make love to the homeless…
I mean…you’d’a done the same thing…right?