Hurricane Sandy has me working crazy long hours, but with my few minutes of downtime in the office I like to peruse the social sites and see what my Twitter and FB people are talking about. This morning I happened to see one of the biggest hoes I know change her relationship status to "engaged" accompanied with a picture of an engagement ring. What the entire fuck is going on? How did this travesty come to be? I was tempted to message her for the back story along with a picture of this foolhardy chap, but better judgment prevailed. (Look at me taking the higher road and shit.)
Unwifable (Un - Wife - Able)
In my prime I've smutted out a plethora of women, well let me rephrase that because I've never slutted woman they did it to themselves. Nevertheless after a certain amount of ratchet sexual exposure (especially with that double standard of promiscuity between the sexes) a chick just might be counted out of any settling down equations. All this got me to thinking of the times hoes tried to upgrade with me out their hoe lane. Ladies and gentlemen its story time with JD.
I got like 3 stories that exactly fit this situation but today I'm going just drop one...
About 2 years I'm on the train on the way home from work and I run into a girl that worked at a clothing store I used to frequent. Let's call her Tia. We had exchanged number in the past but never gotten up. To keep it 100 I couldn't even remember her name, but it was a long train ride so I figured I'd small talk it up with her. From the "Hey how you doing, how you been?" she told me her life story from the last time I laid eyes on her literally. And then she told me about her relationship.
It's so funny how her live-in boyfriend went from the love her life to it might be time to move on in under 4 subway stops. Like seriously he was the fucking man; compassionate, supportive and loyal. He walked her dog, he paid all the bills, but somehow as the train ride progressed she was falling out of love with no interference on my part. About 2 stations from my stop she was sick of his mother intrusiveness into their relationship and was ready to start looking for her own place and move out. It was crazy, I felt like I was watching her relationship unravel before my very eyes. Right as her relationship had reached it's lowest point we were at my stop and coincidently her stop too. My apartment building had vacancies, it was only 2 blocks away and my rent is cheap so I figured I let her check it out, no creep shit. Seriously, no creep shit.
A few minutes later she was in my apartment checking out closet space and writing down the contact info for my rental office. Before I even realized what was going on she was taking her shoes off and turning on the TV. Hours passed, the sun set and she was sitting on my lap facing me while I unbuttoned her blouse. I swear to all that is good and right in the world by the time she started in with the head I had totally forgot she had a live-in boyfriend (not that it would have mattered either way), but she was so free with it. The sun rose, she took her phone off of airplane mode and her text inbox and voicemail was on bath salts. She got her things together and left the way she came. I just knew this was a one and done because when she got home that nigga was going to beat her to death, wasn't any way around it. When she called me later on that day I answered the phone "Look who's alive". Tia sold the nigga some dream, he bought it and she was wondering when we were getting up again.
For a solid 4 weeks Tia was sneaking away to my spot like twice a week getting dicked down and getting ghost before the sun came up. She even drove his brand new motherfucking car to my house like once or twice with the paper tags still on it; I even had to come outside to parallel park it for her. I was cool with the situation; I felt bad for that nigga though not bad enough to stop, but bad like how you feel when run over a squirrel in the street. I mean damage was done; it's not like I could get her to unswallow my semen. Then one day out of the blue, maybe like 15 minutes after she had sucked the life out of balls she asked me "What are we doing here?" In my mind I was like "We've been on zero dates, you got a live-in boyfriend, I'm not even 100% sure of what your name is, and last but not least you're a whore ma'am; we're just fucking" I didn't say that though. Instead I replied "Huh, what do you mean?" Somehow in her whore brain she thought that she could just jump from that nigga straight to me, like I would just embrace her with open arms. I guess to her this was like one of those romance novel affairs where to the woman and the sideline dude runoff then live happily ever after. Nah. I had to let her know we were good right where we were and our thing had a ceiling and she was already on the top floor. About week later she realized on what side her bread was getting buttered on and it damn sure wasn't with me. We stop talking completely but I still wonder what makes hoes try shit like that.
This is all we will ever be
Jean DeGrate has spoken
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