Your Dreams are Ruining You

Dream - something that somebody hopes, longs, or is ambitious for, usually something difficult to attain or far removed from present circumstances

Hope is great. Dreams are fantastic. We all have dreams and we all hope to see them into fruition. Unfortunately it doesn’t always play out like. Dreams die every day b.  With that known it doesn’t create an air of caution within us.

Everybody wants to be a star and a boss

I remember when Rick Ross first started calling him the biggest boss then Maybach records took off and everybody in the building was a boss. Meek is a boss, Wale is a boss, Stalley a boss, Gunplay a boss and the rest of them random dudes that gave 8 bars on a mixtape was also bosses. I was confused. If everybody is a boss, who’s answering the phones? Who’s making the coffee? Who’s changing the toner in the printer? My grandmother told me when I was young everybody can’t be a Chief somebody got to be the Indians. Some people are built to be employees; some people are built to be a cog in the machine. We live in a society full of Betas pretending to be Alphas.

Unfounded confidence

People look at their dreams the same way people who have never been married look at people that got divorce. They did it wrong and for the wrong reasons. They have this air of arrogance combined with this can’t lose attitude and these halfcocked plans with little to no experience. These people don’t know the difference between a hustle and a business. It’s folks slanging diet tea right now and think it’s forever but this time next year it’s going to be a new weight loss crazy and some poor IG honies going to be stuck with 58 cases of tea in her mom’s garage collecting dust. If you say something to them that doesn’t line up with their grandiose plans for world domination you’re instantly a hater. They’ll argue you down why Rent Em Spoons is a million dollar idea. They’ll tell you how many times they needed to rent silverware and how many other people had the same dilemma. The thing is most of you have some truly stupid ideas. Like 75% trash. I’m talking to you future restaurant owner selling dinner plates via social media. I’m talking to you 30 year old government employee trying to create the next Instagram. I’m talking to you people chasing the same cliché dreams using the same formulas expecting game changing results.

The odds are against you

I got a homie Tray. In 2005 this man was bouncing in a strip club wearing a skull cap and rocking a jaw bone beard as a side hustle. Fast forward 12 years later and he has LGC security. LGC is in schools, securing major events and has over 80 full time and 200 part time employees. We always share these dollar and dream stories. We always glorify that one person that stepped out on faith and made it big. We never really talk about those 1000’s of people that stepped out on faith and had to step back in right quick. We never talk about not quitting your day job. We never say for every Tray and LGC there is 100 dudes still doing pat downs at dive bars. We’re so quick to tell someone to invest in themselves and their dreams instead of investing in solid financial goals. You can grind up 20k and invest in yourself or you can grind up 20k and invest in a 4 unit apartment building. It’s bigger than having “know how” and a great idea; you need opportunity and that opportunity may never come.

 
Manage your expectations

Everything is go big or go home; go bang or go bust. Being complacent is a death sentence. Mediocrity is a death sentence. Being regular is a death sentence. The American dream used to be a good job, 2 kids, a marriage and a home with a 2 car garage. Kids don’t even want regular occupations anymore. Folks put more energy in coming up with clever captions for IG pics than they do for their actual day job. Settle for living a good life and make everything else the icing on the cake. Secure the home. Secure the car. Secure the bag… and chase the dream on the side. If you put your all into your dream and fail what do have left for yourself beside a story of your failure?

Sometimes you give up on your dreams and sometimes your dreams give up on you
Jean DeGrate has spoken

The Top 4 Reasons You Ended up in a Situationship?

Let me start off by defining a situationship…

Situationship - I would like to call it that grey area between dating and actually having a title of relationship but it’s not that cut and dry. Nope. Situationships reasonably entails all the so call relationship stuff sans the actual commitment and/or exclusiveness.  (And not that you washed a half a sink of dishes at your “friend’s” house relationship stuff; because y’all be reaching fam.)

In my personal research most situationships never make it to the relationship promise land.

Ok the natural or should I say the traditional trajectory is dating leading up to a committed relationship. In that transition a situationship pops up normally by the guidance of the male in the situation. So this is how you got here…
 

1. You’re not relationship material/You don’t check all the boxes

You ever heard the saying that “there is somebody for everybody”? Of course you have. Well that’s a lie. People die alone everyday B. There person you’re dating might fit in perfectly into your life but on the flipside your puzzle piece doesn’t do the same for them. As a default setting you’ll land in this situationship zone until you or the other person calls it quits. We all have criteria. Some of it is very hard lined and written in permanent magic marker, and some of it has is extra flexible. I.e. I could totally date an ugly girl with a crazy body with no regrets, but I could never call that unfortunate faced woman my girlfriend. No, no, no. The buck stops there. Some of you people come into a person’s life and are perfect for dating but you’re missing a few attributes that make good for a long term relationship.

2. You’re the sideline chick (or dude before you feminists blow up my spot) and you don’t even know it

You think it’s a situationship but it’s not. You’re riding the bench and stealing moments. The leading misdiagnoses of situationships are side line situations. Sorry. This thing you’re in is stagnate and your “partner” seems very complacent with the way things are then you know what it is homie.

3. Their heart belongs somewhere else

People are sometimes madly in love with someone that they are not with. It could be a break, a breakup or whatever the catalyst for them not being them; they aren’t in an emotional space to really give you a chance. You’re in this situationship with a person that pretty much using you for a number of reasons… You’re keeping the bed warm until the real bae comes back around. You’re a distraction and some people hate to be alone.

4. You’re feeling them WAY MORE than they are feeling you

Lopsided feelings commonly get misaddressed as commitment issues. Ego is blinding. You’re digging someone, y’all are vibing real good so you’re trying to hand them your heart and make it official but they are holding back. What else could it be? It has to be commitment issues; Lord forbid you’re head over heels for someone that see you in the same way. Nah, that couldn’t be it. But it is though and the person is going to ride that commitment phobe wave instead of keeping it 100 and say “Oh, I like you but not on that level yet”.

Yeah this is how you got here. You’re welcome
Jean DeGrate has spoken

Shut Up Old Men

I'm sick of the old school talking about the new wave. You’re in the barber shop bitter. You’re on social media bitter. Just running around complaining all the damn time and I swear my generation has the youngest old men ever. Dudes out here 35 years old talking about “back in my day” like they fought in Nam or some shit.

Fashion/masculinity

Somehow someway baggy jeans and masculinity goes together. The slimmer fit the pants the further diluted manhood becomes. We just leap frog all of the extra suspect entertainers that we came up with like Tupac wasn’t running around with a nose ring and a leather vest without a shirt like he just walked out of the Blue Oyster. We let Mystical cook for his entire career with a bob plait weave like he was the male Moesha while singing I’m the man right here. Nobody questioned it. Now everything is suspect. Now everything that strays away from what’s considered the norm by the dad jean wearing collective becomes a threat.

New Age rappers

I said a hip hop
Hippie to the hippie
The hip, hip a hop, and you don't stop, a rock it out
Bubba to the bang bang boogie, boobie to the boogie
To the rhythm of the boogie the beat

These are the 1st 5 bars to the legendary track “Rapper’s Delight” and it’s epic garbage. GARBAGE. It’s funny how we love to pretend like every MC prior to the year 2000 was dropping Nas level lyrics on every track.  They weren’t.  Ever era has non rapping rappers and they are for the generation of that era. So if all these Lil 21 Uzi Yachty rappers are not for you, turn the station, change the channel, fire up some Rakim and be blessed.

The NBA

LeBron didn’t ruin the NBA. Don’t compare him to compare him to MJ and Kobe that just managed not to get traded off at the whim of an owner for a better puzzle piece. DeMarcus Cousins found out mid all-star interview that he was traded to New Orleans in February. Can you imagine if you showed up work tomorrow and your boss told you he traded to another office on the other side of the country? I’m sure if your boss told you had to come in extra for the next 3 weekends you’d be ready to hand in your resignation.  But somehow the “fans” decided that a man taking his destiny into his own hands and cementing his legacy makes him less of a player. You expect him to be loyal to a team, a coach, an owner and a league that won’t be loyal to him in return and throw his life into disarray as soon as something better comes along. Nah. LeBron didn’t ruin the game by changing the rules he strengthen the players and the owners will have to adapt.

Your day is over it’s a new day
Jean DeGrate has spoken

The Fiend Next Door

I live in the hood. Not the rap hood but the real hood. I once stepped over a dead body on the way on my out to dinner (Hi Melissa). The next day there was a Teddy bear at my door step surrounded by empty bottles of alcohol. I still remember what my daughter said when she saw it “That Teddy bear sure is thirsty” it was hilarious and tragic all at the same time. This is just to give you the idea of where I live. I love the hood though. I love the noise, the people and the sense of community.

Anyway…

A guy, his wife and 3 kids had moved into the building next door. Let’s call the guy Dave because his name was Dave and I don’t really care if he comes across this. They always spoke whenever we’d cross paths during our comings and goings. Some days Dave would catch me outside jumping rope and roll up on me with some random small talk then joke about working his beer belly off. Regular neighborly shit.

That was pretty much the extent of our relationship until one day I was coming home after dropping the kid off to school. Dave ran up to the car frantically begging me to drop him off at the bus stop around the corner. Fuck it; why not? It wasn’t shit to me, I was just going in the house to sit on the couch and watch DVR for the next few hours. I told him to hop in and when I pulled around the corner to the bus stop his wife and 3 kids were standing there. The bus had come and gone and they missed it. Without asking for permission he hopped out and invited his entire family into my Lexus coupe. My coupe isn’t a comfortable fit for 3 adults so let alone 3 adults plus 3 midsized children. I was on the verge of flipping out for a split second then he told me they really needed to get to Bread for the City. You see people Bread for the City is a food dispensary for the under privileged and just happens to be one charities I donate to annually. Until that very moment I didn’t know they were next door struggling and that “Nigga if you don’t get the fuck out of my car” sitting on the tip of my tongue when right back down my throat from which it came. I drove the family cramped into my car the 15 or so blocks down the street, Dave thanked me and the family hopped out to stand in the food bag line. That shit was sad.

I rode home in silence.

It threw my whole swag off. I couldn’t imagine standing in line with Madi for free food not as a choice but as an only option other than starvation. If the lines for the free samples in Costco are too long I can’t even be bothered. I’m just not with the shit but here was a grown man, his wife and 3 sons standing in line to stock up their fridge. I was stuck because everything I seen from Dave prior to seemed to be on the level. Not that I knew any of the dealings in his life but he was always clean and so was his family. Just goes to show you never know what somebody is going through. I thanked God for my blessings and proceeded to watch the 3 episodes of ‘Person of Interest” waiting for me on DVR. The next day I saw Dave and he thank me and apologized for putting my out of my way but they really needed that ride. I was like no problem and then he told me his wife does dreds for the low if I was interested. Nah. I was good on all that. Sitting in his living room experiencing that poverty first hand listening to his kids’ stomachs growling would be a bit much for me. Once again; nah.

For the next 3 weeks or so our neighborly rapport returned to regular and then he ran up on me again parking my car.

Dave – I need a favor and I hate to ask you but I don’t have anyone else
JD – What’s up?
Dave – Could I borrow like 20 or 30 dollars until the first? We don’t have any food in the house right now.
JD – I got you.

I didn’t have any small bills and I wasn’t sure how a family of 5 could eat off of 30 bucks for an entire weekend let alone for almost 2 weeks until the first so I gave him a 50. I told him just get me back when he could. The first came and went and I did not see Dave. I finally ended up see him on the 5th and he acted as if he seen a ghost. He immediately went into the “something came up; I’m not ducking you but I just need a few more days” speech. I said don’t worry about it; I’m good just keep it. I mean I ain’t shit but I’m not ain’t shit to the level that I can’t let 50 slide to a family in need. Funny thing is after I told him to keep it I went back to seeing him every day. A couple more days passed and he hit me up for another 30 and I again gave him 50 but instead of letting him set up another payment date I told him to keep it off top. Look at me doing good deeds and shit.

Fast forward another week and I’m standing outside of my building talking to the homie Dion while smoking a black & mild and I see Dave in the distance motioning me over. I’m not walking over to this man so he can ask me for money so I motioning him over to me and as I’m doing that Dion turns to see who I’m summoning over. As soon as Dave’s eyes locked on Dion this man hit a U-turn and speed walked up the block.

Dion – You know that nigga?
JD – Yeah he lives in the next building and he be hitting me up for money here and there
Dion – You know he on coke right?
JD – Fuck you mean?
Dion – He stay coming to my homie around the corner copping with nothing less than 50 straight money.
JD – 50?
Dion – Like every other day he spending around there. You supporting the fiend.
JD – Bruh this nigga got a whole ass family they be hitting Bread for the City.
Dion – He’s a whole ass crackhead

I was dumb mad. I was fighting mad. Every time I saw this man walking up the sad little violin music would start playing in my head and he’s out here getting high on my dime. I bull shit you not I didn’t see this man for another month. By the time I did see him I had cooled down considerably but I still snatched him up on sight.

JD – You smoking coke?
Dave – No, I don’t…
JD – My man said he sees you buying coke all the time
Dave – It’s for my wife’s father. He’s too scared to buy it from the guys around the corner so he sends me
JD – You telling me this man sees his grandkids and daughter struggling but sends you to buy crack?
Dave – Yes
JD – Nigga you have to think I’m a fucking fool. You need to stay the fuck from around me.

I let him go and he quickly stepped his ass down the street with no further debate. The next morning on the way to work Dave and the whole family were posted up on the corner of Suitland Parkway and Naylor Rd panhandling to cars stuck at the light. He looked into my car briefly made eye contact then immediately looked over to the car behind me. For the next month I’d see the family hop from busy intersection to busy intersection panhandling as a unit. Talk about unity. Their building ending up catching on fire the next month and I never saw the family again.

I was buying coke in 3rd person
Jean DeGrate has spoken

Men cheat

And you women allow it.

Yeah that’s about it. Blog over. Enjoy the duration of your day.

Oh you need more than that?

Ok I got you.

On October 10th the year of our Lord 2002 the poet laureate Shawn Corey Carter professed on wax in a duet with his future wife…

“The problem is you dudes treat the one that you loving with the same respect that you treat the one that you humping. Now they about nothing; if ever you mad about something it won't be that; oh no it won't be that. I don't be at, places where we comfy at.”

Men cheat because we get away with it and it’s easy.

Your grandpa cheated on your grandma, your dad cheated on your mom and so on and so forth. Do you know hard it was to cheat without cellphones? In this day and age that’s just mind blowing but Denzel still managed to bring a whole ass side baby home to Viola Davis in “Fences” and that man didn’t even have a car. Now it’s way easier; it’s easier to cheat than it is to rent a car.

See here’s the thing the value of vagina has dropped greatly. The market is flooded. It used to take some charm, wit and oh yeah some fucking effort to get women naked. Now it’s like a free throw, I mean at this very moment I have nudes in my phone from women I’ve never even talked to on the phone. You would think that would be the minimum pre-requisite for something like that right? Before you go into this “What kind of women are coming across?” rant I’m coming across women you know. I’m coming across your girlfriends and they aren’t telling you all the shit they’re up. Some women are even proud side hoes on top of all the closeted side hoes.

Ok now we got that out of the way let’s get to how women allow it...

A man’s worth
Men have more intrinsic value in a relationship than women. I’m sorry ladies we do. It’s often over looked but it’s a 99% chance that the moment a man steps into your life he makes it better. We are problem solvers. We are handymen. We are the safety net. We’ll be your crutch. We’ll be your support system. We kill spiders, throw out the trash, open tightly sealed jars, put together Ikea furniture and get shit off of high selves. Once we’ve been around for a while women get used to these things. When a relationship ends it’s more than a void of intimate companionship but a void of services provided during the relationship. Who’s going to go downstairs when something goes bump in the night? Who’s going to take your car to the mechanic when it starts making that funny noise again? Who’s going to carry those 114 grocery bags in the house in one trip? Who’s going to pay the other half (or larger percentage) of the rent? Oh that’s your job again.

Women hate starting over
For people that get free meals and drinks and outings from guys that shower them with compliments in hopes of making some sort of connection, women really hate dating. Women hate hate hate allowing new men to entertain them. Instead of finding something new women would rather put a Band-Aid on relationship with infidelity. Toss some excuses on it and push thru is the typically formula. He cheated but you know where his heart is, nobody’s perfect and direct some blame on yourself. Yeah that’s pretty much the script. The risk factor is relativity low, if he even gets caught it might cost him a headache and a dozen roses for some side pussy that’s always within reach.

You’re giving away the sex
Average Joe’s are tossing up numbers like Kobe before the rape charge. Giving the pussy to the shift manager at Pep Boy’s isn’t going to prompt any girl to take morning after sneak pics like a James Harden. Dead beat baby daddies all the way up to the married preacher are getting this work because status doesn’t even matter. Like I previously stated vagina easily accessible and you women set the stage because you’re the ones in charge of handing out the pussy.

Men cheat because we can

Jean DeGrate has spoken

You Should Snitch

Quick heads up I’m not the center piece of this story.

I’m a firm believer that if you see the homie’s significant other acting out of pocket you should immediately let the homie know. I know people have apprehensions about the messenger getting shot and what not but if you can’t notify the homie when someone is doing them wrong then why is that the homie? Especially if the repercussions could be possibly devastating and you could have aided in the avoidance of the entire situation.

Anyway on with the story…

Let’s call the homie Mike and let’s call his girl Mary in the spirit of anonymity and shit.

In my younger days I used to section off my friends; I had my club friends, my hood friends, my basketball friends, my real friends and so on and so forth. Mike was a glorified club friend I used to see at the gym and then I kept running into when I was out in these streets. He was an excellent wingman next to Slick and Jolly he might have been the best I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with. During our wingman adventures this man went out here and found love; it was like when Michael Jordan retired from the Bulls (the second time) it was the ending of an epic era. Fast forward 7 months and Mike and Mary moved in together I came to the house warming I bought them a fifth Hennessey VSOP and a George Forman grill. Mike went from club homie to “I’m getting the fight on PPV”/occasionally get a beer after work friend and of course I was still out in these streets.

Fast forward another few weeks and I’m out at Eye Bar on a Tuesday and it was lit because some of the bench warming Wizards were in the building. I’m standing at the bar and to my left stands Mary with a crew of her homies. She sees me and comes over to greet me with an overly friendly lingering hug. I did like Jamie Foxx and blamed it on the liquor. As the night passed she made her way over towards my section several times continuing to be very friendly and once even sitting on my lap. She was doing the absolute most but I was still going to stay on the blame it on the liquor path until I was heading out and saw pushed up against the wall kissing some dude whose hands were on her ass. Definitely an unignorably red flag and yup; I was snitching. I figure it wouldn’t be the best move to shoot off a text at quarter to midnight on a Tuesday to let Mike know her girl was out here wilding all the way out. I could imagine him there sitting in the living with the lights off smoking a cigarette waiting for her to drunkenly stumble in and then I’d see the end result on the morning news while getting dressed for work. Yeah, probably wouldn’t be the best. I decided, I’d just catch him at the gym tomorrow but he didn’t come, so I waited until 4:30pm on the dot and called him.

Mike – What’s up bro?
JD – I saw Mary out last night…
Mike – Yeah told me
JD – Bro, she was out there wilding all the way the fuck out. I was leaving out and some random dude was tonging her down with both hands on the cheeks.
Mike – Oh yeah?
JD – Nigga
Mike – Stop playing with me
JD – Nigga, go handle that ASAP
Mike – Good looking out son. I appreciate you.
JD – It’s nothing son. Gone.

I didn’t hear from Mike after that; not that I was expecting him to give me an update. I didn’t even see him in the gym for whole month and when I did he looked at me sideways, but I just went to get about my issue. We ended up leaving out at the same time so I rolled up on him…

JD – What’s up kid?
Mike – Nothing is up. Mary told me about all you were doing that night.
JD – All I was doing?
Mike – She told me you were trying to feel her up and shit.
JD – Me?
Mike – Yeah nigga you
JD – So after I called you and said what I said you spoke to her and then she said whatever?
Mike – Yeah she wasn’t trying to fuck up our friendship
JD – OK kid you be cool like you be cool

I stepped off right then and there. He never called my phone, hit me up on social media; he ceased to exist the moment I turned my back.

Fast forward 4 years later and I’m in Target minding my fucking business and attempting to spend less than $100. I’m browsing the Blue Ray aisle looking for some of those $5 gems and I hear someone yelling my name. I look left. I look right. I don’t see a familiar face now I’m back to eyeballing this director’s cut edition of Terminator 2 and I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn around to see a guy with dreds and a beard looking me in my face “Jean”. It was Mike but he was clean cut and a few pounds lighter the last time I saw him so I had no fucking idea who he was. This was also the beginning of the era that random people from the internet was running up on me to tell me I’m funny. Anyway it was Mike, but instead of doing another JD/Mike back and forth section I’m just going to give you the gist of it…

Mike and Mary continued to date and cohabitate. Mary ended up pregnant and Mike went to Jared to cop a ring. The kid was born. He was playing daddy for a whole year and a half. Then one day he was leaving out of the apartment building and some random dude came to him woman to woman in the parking to tell him his son might not be his son. Fast forward to a nasty break-up, a broken lease, a DNA test and a few court dates later and Mike’s baby turned out not to be his baby. Parking lot dude was the real father off some Maury shit. Life comes at you fast. Yeah he really shed his entire soul in the Blue Ray aisle and I was still holding the director’s cut edition of Terminator 2.

Mike – I was tripping back then because you only wanted to put me up on game
JD – Shit happens. You live. You learn.

After that we had that awkward “what you been up to/we should hang out like old times” convo for about 5 minutes. I ended up not buying the director’s cut edition of Terminator 2 and still managed to spend well over $100 for those that were wondering.

The moral of the story is trust the homie when the homie is telling you about snakes in your yard
Jean DeGrate has spoken

I might be a hoe

Or at least a tad bit forgetful

Anyway I have a story to tell and something on one of my Facebook status updates just reminded me. So here we go…

Let’s rewind back a few years to the good old days when you weren’t required to have a separate app to check your messages on Facebook. The golden era; insert several heart eyed emojis.

History has taught me that women will shut down and delete a social media account at the drop of a dime. They will also change a phone number like Sprint ain’t charging them for it. Any type of drama will prompt these actions and I do mean any kind; heartbreak, bird shit on the windshield, missed the season finale of Empire, her son got an F in PE, etc…

That entire passage above is kind of a cop out for what’s coming next. That doesn’t make it any less TRUE but it’s still a cop out. Father forgive me.

Sometimes my Facebook is lit. Sometimes girls slide in my DM’s and on a much smaller occasion I respond. This is the story of what happened when I responded this one time.

So I’m just kicking on the timeline talking my shit per usual trying to get through another the work day and I get a friend request from a cute girl. I went thru standard protocol when a cute girl sends you a friend; you know the Catfish/Scammer/Spammer test, scroll thru a few pictures, see if her timeline goes back further than a month, see if she has any friends in common that aren’t thirsty ass dudes and read a few status updates. If everything lines up I click accept and immediately forget she exist. Let’s call her Shay in the spirit of anonymity. Fast forward a couple of days later and Shay is in my inbox. Women rarely ever go smack (smack – the act of being direct in an aggressive nature) in the DM’s. They’ll small talk you to death waiting for you to shoot your shot and I let her small talk me for 3 days. We’d exchange short bursts of dialog throughout the day to the point that she was asking me about the family shit was getting kind of personal. She forced my hand and trying to hold detailed conversations while typing with my thumbs wasn’t exactly the wave. I couldn’t go back and forth anymore with the small talk so I gave her my number. Now we talking on the phone, flirting and shit; she even shot the boy a few almost nudes. I spread this thing out over a few weeks before asking her out. I figured she wasn’t going to ask so I did it.

The plan was to meet up for drinks at some arbitrary restaurant/bar in downtown DC and in classic woman fashion she was running a bit behind so instead of walking inside and waiting like a lonely nigga I stood outside while smoking a black and mild. I saw her walking up from like 10 yards out and she sort of looked familiar, but not familiar in “you look just like your pictures” familiar it was more like “I think I know you in real life” familiar. Anyway I shrugged it then off greeted her with a hug and proceeded to enter the spot. We grabbed seats at the bar and I asked her what she was drinking. We cut through a couple appetizers and a few rounds. It was shaping up into being a great night or so I thought. She got up to use the bathroom and in her absence I ordered the shrimp cocktail. It was the beginning of the end and I didn’t even know it.

She gets back to the bar at the exact same moment the bartender placed the shrimp cocktail in front of me.

Shay – You greedy and you didn’t even order me anything.

JD – You can have some. These are community shrimp.

Shay – You know I’m allergic to shrimp.

JD – Do I?

Shay – I told you.

JD – Did you?

Shay – I told you when we were supposed to go to McCormick & Schmick’s

JD – When was that?

Shay – Oh my God. You don’t know who I am do you?

JD – What’s going on here?

It was a bit more dialog after that but it was mostly profanity based so the super abridged version is “We’ve had sex and you don’t know who the fuck I am; FUCK YOU” and then she stormed out of the restaurant. Pretty much everybody within earshot was staring at me and I’m not 100% sure there isn’t a video of me getting cursed out at the bar floating around the internet somewhere. After I finished my drink and paid the tab I doubled back to Facebook to look thru her pictures hoping to jog my memory, but she was way too swift I was already blocked. I thought of calling and texting but would I say “Hey I don’t remember you but I’d like to know you again.” Yeah, that probably wouldn’t go off well. I spent the greater portion of the trip home trying to figure out who she was and yup you guessed it, no dice. I still don’t know who she is or was and here where are years later.

Does that make me a hoe because I don’t remember a woman I slept with?

Jean DeGrate is perplexed. No I’m not. I’m a hoe