Girl... Beyonce

Yeah, this is totally not what you think this is. Seriously, it's not.

A while back, I dropped a blog called "Why Women Are Better Cheaters," proving why women are able to pull the wool over the opposite sexes' eyes when it comes to sleeping around. Today, I'm going to tell the story of this chick who I was cracking. Like the perfect fuck buddy, she had a man, and she also had the stepping out game on lock (like most women do). We're going to call her Angel.

I ran into Angel in a CVS, and I mean I literally walked directly into her while I was watching some ratchet fight video on WorldStar. I smoothly knocked her into that aluminum cage full of those cheap plastic balls. She was mad as fuck and on the brink of spazzing the fuck out, until her homie bent the corner. "Hey Mr. De-Graw-Tae" because women who know me solely via the internet never ever say "DeGrate". And, just like that, Angel's face changed from "curse-a-nigga-out-mad" into "oh-you-know-him-calm". So there I was chopping in up with one of my random ass FB homies, who, by the way, I couldn't point out in a room with only me and her in it, and there Angel was standing within earshot hearing all about my miscellaneous rants and adventures that I've posted on the net. After about 10 minutes, Angel chimed into the conversation, and we ended up exchanging FB info.

Angel didn't start off cheating on her dude. She started off reading blogs and inboxing me for advice related to her relationship and his behavior that she found disturbing. We jumped from inboxing to texting, then from texting to actually talking on the phone. Needless to say, with every change in communication method, we strayed farther and farther away from the topic of her dude. As a precautionary measure, she created the "Beyonce" code to avoid any type of falling out if her dude were to become suspicious of some dude she was just cool with. I mean guys never trust dudes that just randomly pop up out of nowhere. If I was an insecure dude, I totally wouldn't trust me; I totally look like the type of guy that would fuck some other guy's girl. It made sense to me; after all, I wasn't fucking her. I had only seen her that one random time in CVS so the shit seemed on the level. The code went like this...

I could only initiate contact via text, and I'd have to say some toned-down shit like "Hey", and wait for a response. If her dude was around, she would respond by saying something about Beyonce, i.e. "Girl, have you seen the new Beyonce pictures in Vogue," and that would my cue to say something like, "Of course, you know that's my bitch," (don't judge me) and just allow the conversation to wane off. But, if he wasn't around, she'd just call my phone.

The big fight
In almost every relationship, there's a big fight (or several) that puts the relationship into a gray area where neither party is exactly sure of the relationship status. This subsequently leads to questionable behavior by both parties that probably won't be brought up during the reconciliation process (or any other time unless to be used as with malicious intent). Newsflash: During that "break" when you were living life as scheduled, rekindling old flames with college-sweethearts and shit, random John (no pun intended) had his dick down your girl's throat, but hey... it was a "break" though. Anyway, I'm bullshitting down U Street on a random ass Wednesday night, and my phone rings... Angel's name flashes across my screen.

JD - What's good? (Unfortunately, I still answer my phone like that.)
Angel - What are you doing tonight?
JD - I'm uptown, on U Street, just bullshitting around.
Angel - How long are you going to be out?
(Once a female asks me 2 questions back-to-back, my inner "I don't want to be questioned" reflex kicks in.)
JD - Why? What's up? What's going on?
Angel - I'm trying to hangout.
JD - What's going on here?
Angel - Me and Greg broke it off, and I'm just trying to get out of the house.
(This was my first encounter with the "dick in a glass" maneuver that didn't consist of a woman I had fucked previously so I was in uncharted waters. I was confused, and almost parted my lips to ask her, "But where your real friends at?" However, cooler heads prevailed.)
JD - Oh ok; well how long do you think it's going to take you to get up here?
Angel - I'm already ready. I'll be there in 15 minutes.
JD - Bet; I'm outside of Liv now so I'mma just post up here.

45 minutes later she walks in. We drank, and I told some jokes. At about 11 o'clock, I was ready to wrap shit up, and she paid the tab. Yeah, it surprised the fuck out of me that she paid for the drinks. I was sleepy, buzzed, and was about to attempt to catch a cab while black on U St. She offered me a ride, and I gladly accepted. We pulled up to my house, and she decided to come up. Right about now, you're probably thinking it went down as soon as we got thru the door. Nope. No such thing. I turned on the TV, sat on the couch, and we were both knocked the fuck out moments later.

I woke up around 3am to her laying on me in the "I fell asleep on the plane now I'm leaning on your shoulder" position. I was literally sweating. I pushed her off me, got up, and went to my bed. I got up when my alarm went off and hopped in the shower, all the while assuming Angel was still sound asleep. Nah. Two minutes into the shower, she busted through the bathroom, pulls back the curtain, takes a good look, and steps back out. I was heated (mainly because of the gust of cold air she let into the bathroom), but I finished my shower. I walked out of the bathroom to find her standing by the door in her bra and panties. She grabbed me by my neck and kissed me dead in the mouth. It felt mad rapey, but I went with it, and we all know how the story goes. Plus, there weren't any sexual highlights. But if you need details: the mouf was mediocre, and she had a surprisingly phat ass.

Later that afternoon, Angel and her dude patched things back up; it was accompanied by a sappy FB status just for the "haters". We all know that "breaks" usually last no more than 48 hours, so I wasn't surprised. We also went back to exactly how we were as if nothing had happened, that is until the next hiccup in the relationship. By the second time around, she was in "cut the shit" mode.

JD - What's good?
Angel - You home? You Busy? You got anything planned?
JD - Yes, no, and no. (It kinda made me feel like a loser because I was literally sitting Indian style on my living room floor counting my DVDs just to be counting DVDs.)
Angel - I'll be there in 30 minutes.

... and she just hung up; she didn't even wait for me to say cool. This just amplified my loser status. How did she know I wanted some no strings attached pussy at that very moment? I could have been enjoying my "me" time. Anyway, she showed up within 20 minutes and brought her A game. It continued on that way for a few months. Every argument at her home ended with my penis in her mouth that night or following day. Yeah, by this time, she was just flat out cheating. One week she came thru twice, and I said, "Damn, two breakups in one week," and she replied, "Oh we not broke up. He's just been acting funny lately so if he doing something on the side, I don't want him to be the only one." I almost stopped her from taking her clothes off to ask what type of sense did that statement make, but it was too late to ask; my dick was already hard. It turns out that nigga was acting "funny" because he already bought the engagement ring and was waiting for right moment to bring it out.

She said, "Yes". I was still her FB friend long enough to see her post pictures of the engagement ring. Then, she deleted and blocked me on FB. I didn't even try to text her, but I'm sure I was blocked on that too. She cleaned all traces of me from her life. When I ran into the initial FB homie two weeks ago, she said Angel is happily married, with a kid, and they still talk about my blogs; so I know she's going flip when she sees this.

Out of all the girls with boyfriends I've smashed, she might have been the best who ever did it.
Jean DeGrate doesn't even like Beyonce.