Tuesday, October 3, 2017

That Time I Should Have Won Side Dude of the Year

Gather around boys and girls it’s story time with JD…

Technically I wasn’t actually the side dude. She was legit my homie. We’ll call her Teresa and yes; I was hitting Teresa on occasion throughout the span of a couple of relationships. And by occasion I mean 5 times tops. One time was exclusively out of curiosity of what that mouth might do. Ok story within a story time…

I was kind of dating girl called Sunday. I called her Sunday because I only saw her on Sundays and by only seeing her on Sundays I meant I’d come over to her house and fuck. Sunday was a pioneer of this internet stalking shit. She literally befriended every one of my female on social media. It sounds bad but back then it was like 60 in comparison today’s 2400 or so. Somehow, someway Teresa and Sunday became phone buddies and they were discussing skin care technics because Teresa has flawless skin. Anyway Sunday erupted with laughter out of the blue and exclaimed “Bitch you crazy”. Sunday turns to me and said “She says she keeps her skin clear by swallowing at least once a week”. Needless to say my interested was peaked and I immediately plotted my exit to see what that mouth does. You don’t need all the details, but I left Sunday’s house and 45 minutes later I was seeing what that mouth did. It was wonderful by the way.

Ok back to the story…

Boyfriends hate me. The only boyfriend in the history of my females having boyfriends that didn’t hate me is the homie Tangie’s husband, Russell. Anyway Teresa’s current boyfriend was really uncomfortable with her having a male best friend which is ironic for two reasons; first I didn’t have sex with her during their relationship and second he had a female best friend. On the flipside his female best friend was unattractive as in the moment I finish writing this blog I’m unfucking her unattractive. Teresa cooked up this whole scheme of me “talking” to her boyfriend’s best friend; let’s call her Ant because she kind of looks like an ant. Basically I’d go out on a date or two with Ant and her boyfriend would stop feeling uncomfortable. I agreed to this arrangement prior to seeing Ant. Upon meeting Ant face to face I threw the whole plan the fuck out the window.

Teresa pulled up on me with Ant to make the introduction when I was chilling around U Street at a random bar and BOY there was much to be desired. It’s no way I could be out in these streets with this young lady. Ant was brown skin slim built with big breast and no ass at all but that face was an absolute deal breaker. A total lack of ass is a hard mountain to overcome on any woman and when you accompany it with an unpretty face; nah son. Ain’t no mother fucking way. I needed a plan B. I was going to put her in a “phone bone and text her to death” type of situation. I’m a beast on the phone. I’m a fucking professional conversationalist. (If you’ve ever been on the phone with me for longer than 20 minutes you’d know that I’m gifted.) We exchanged info then Ant and Teresa headed on their way. I walked back into happy hour and tried to drink the image of her face out of my head.

Anyway… the next day I started operation chatterbox. I’m telling you this; I’m charming as fuck when I put my mind to it. For about 2 weeks I had her crying laughing and hanging on my every word without even hinting at a date or any sort of face to face interaction. I was ready to do a victory lab because I heard no new gripes about the friendship between Teresa and me. It was to the point that Teresa would hit my line and shoot the shit with me while her formally jealous boyfriend was sitting on the couch next to her. Mission accomplished right? Wrong. In week 3 of our usually cool and casual conversations became instantly littered with “so when am I going to see you” and my hand was pushed. I tried to duck and dodge it but she wouldn’t let it die; I was really going to have to jump on this grenade. BLOWN.

Since I was backed into a corner I set it up for a Netflix and chill type of situation well after sundown. I intentionally lined it up on the day the crew was celebrating one of the homies birthday so I could already be on some day drinking shit. I was sipping from 4p right up until she pulled up at 10p. I had a bottle in the house for her and a movie lined up. The plan was to have her come over, throw the movie on liquor her up then we’d both pass out. Nope; it didn’t play out that way. We never discussed her hidden talent of drinking like a member of a biker gang. I had a 5th of Goose and she was going shot for shot with me and I was already halfway done. I probably made it 2 thirds into the 5th before I was staring at the inside of my eyelids. I wake up to her reaching into my pants whipping my man out. My intent wasn’t to smash; I swear it wasn’t, but she started in with the head and she wasn’t half bad. She was no Teresa but it kind of sobered up me; I wasn’t anywhere near 100% lucid but my dick was 150% ready. On everything I love I normally mail it in with chicks I’m not digging, but I’m going to do like Jamie Fox and blame it on the liquor because I balled her ass up in that bed. Twice. She creeped out like 3a with a possible limp and I woke up to the meanest hangover several hours later. About 3p when I finally started to get my appetite back and my life in order; this ugly broad had the audacity to send me a selfie caption “I had fun last night”. I threw my phone across the room then jumped up and started punching the air like Trey in “Boys in the Hood” after Ricky got shot. I was mad at her. I was mad at myself. I was mad at Teresa. I was mad at Grey Goose and my head was hurting. I maintained my professionalism and tucked Ant back into the conversation only zone and eventually phased out talking to her completely over a 4 week span. No awards or plaques came for my sacrifice on that dark night. I still can’t watch documentaries about ants to this day and Teresa broke up with dude like 6 weeks later.

Not all heroes wear capes
Jean DeGrate has spoken

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