Like done fucked up the pussy for me

It’s something about love (like actually) at first sight that just kills my swag on sight.

I’ve only liked about 5 girls on first sight and I mean that day dreaming about us picnicking, going to wine tastings, paddle boating (all things that I won’t do in a regular state of mind) and a gang of other corny shit my pride won’t allow me to type. From that moment my dormant ‘nice guy’ gene becomes hyperactive and turns me from Jean DeGrate to Jean DeLame; it’s really some sad shit. Here’s one of the stories...

The Prelude
It was early spring of 2002 and my man Greg (fake name) put me on with one of his girlfriend’s homies, her name was Nicole (real name). Greg told me she was a “cute joint”, which means she could be anywhere from a 5 to an 8 on the hook up protocol rating scale and normally when a guy is looking for a dude for a female friend of his girlfriend, it normally means she’s a lonely bitch.

Yeah all that shit was way off.
She was going to Howard staying on campus at the time so I decided to throw on something and walk around the corner and meet this chick. I put on a Latrell Sprewell New York Knicks Nike swingman jersey with a tank top under it, a pair of Silver Tab Levi’s and some beat up tan Timberland boots. My hair wasn’t brushed (I was a bald head back then) and I’m pretty sure I wasn’t clean shaved. So here I am walking up to the Towers (a dorm at HU, looking like an extra from “New York Undercover”, looking for a girl I’ve never seen before. She walks up to me while talking to me on my cell “saying I think you are directly in front of me” and she was cute as shit. She kind of reminded me of Lark Voorhies (Lisa from “Saved by the Bell”) with that girl next door pretty. She fit perfectly into my preconceived idea of what my girlfriend should look like: brown skin, long hair (that grew out of her head), about 5’3 and slim build with curves. I was on stuck before I got the “Oh I see you” reply out of mouth.

And let the lame shit begin:
We sat on that wall in front of the Towers for like 2 hours (sitting on a brick wall for two hours will have your ass feeling like hamburger meat); I was soaking up her words like a Shamwow soaks up water. I can’t remember shit she said to date, but that night I could recite that entire conversation like the national anthem. The moment I stepped on the other side of my door I was calling my man Greg to call his gir, to see what Nicole said about me; I was beyond pressed. She eventually called me that night and stayed on the phone with her until she fell asleep (yeah it was downright gay).

More lameness.
Her dorm mate was a cubby chick but they were homies and to help her lose weight she decided it would be a good idea for them to start jogging in the mornings. What does any of that have to with anything, you say? Well since I used to run track (in the 4th grade I conveniently forgot to mention how long ago it was) I offered my expertise. At the time I didn’t have to be at work until 1030 in the morning so my eyes didn’t open before 830am EVER and to add icing to the lame shit I don’t run, that’s like my motto; DeGrate don’t run. Never the less here I am at 6am doing stretches preparing to do laps around this track. This wasn’t even a one time event for like a week straight I’d hop out of bed walk down to HU wait for them to come out do 5 or 6 laps around the track and walk my happy ass home. I wasn’t even in running shape but pride and Jesus kept me from passing out. I’d literally go home sit in a tub of hot water, rubbing alcohol and Epson salt, but like (not love) got my ass out the bed the next morning to do it again.

The PEAK of LAME and I should have jumped off and killed myself.
(Real talk I’m staring at the screen trying to find the best way to word this shit to make me look the least lame as possible. Just thinking about it reaffirms why she cut me off like a Mexican with a switchblade.) At this time Nicole and I been chopping it up pretty heavy for like a good 8 days; she saw me like almost twice a day (including jogging). She snuck me into the dorm, bypassing the sign-in process at the time this meant nothing to me so I figured I was going home anyway. We were in the room, chilling and she was playing me close but for some strange reason when I’m in serious ‘like’ with a chick my “she’s trying to give you some pussy” detector just doesn’t function well (I might have to check into that). So she stepped it up a notch and began to change in front of me and I actually looked away; like I was really trying not to look at her get underdressed (anti-pussy move). After she switches into the Adina Howard outfit (T-Shirt and panties) it’s time to go to sleep and I should spend the night. So here I am grown ass man with a count in the triple digits laying next to a half naked attractive girl that I’m seriously digging, in jeans and a tank-top then she turns to me and says “Don’t you want to take your jeans off?” I reply “Nah I’m good” then proceed to go to sleep. It wasn’t until I was halfway home and started to do the night’s recap in my head that I realized that I smoothly worked my way out of the pussy.

Soon after that Nicole stop talking to me and her exact quote to my man’s girl for her reason,“He’s extremely attractive but I don’t like anything else about him”.

That “Nah I’m good” line haunts me to this day
Jean DeGrate has spoken