1.01.2009

Day Lost

Uuuummmm...What in daHell happened to the first day of the year?

It has just slid away into a whole mesh of nothingness. Already my great plans to start the new year off differently got deadlined.

I'm thinking that this is going to be a year of challenges. How do I know this?

My first challenge was issued less than 35 minutes into the new year.

I was at a girlfriend's party with a very sophisticated (I used that word rather facetiously to describe those bourgeouis negroes.) crowd. You know how socially retarded grown ass people look standing the fuck around in cliques sipping wine and eating appetizers when they asses are supposed to be at a FUCKING PARTY?

I hate that shit. Everybody standing around talking to only who the fuck they know. Trying to appear too cool for school. All dressed up in their flyest shit (so you know they want to be seen), but sticking to the wall like they don't want to attract attention (so it doesn't look like they are trying too hard).

I don't have those kinds of issues. I like me. I like being me. A bunch of folks that I don't really know are not going to stop me from enjoying myself.

So......I am at this party (as if you didn't know that) and I am the ONLY PERSON DANCING. I mean at first, the music was kinda lame. The IPOD playlist was NOT the business. It was uptempo enough to get your head bobbing, but not really enough to make you want to jam your ass off.

Finally, someone went and got a different IPOD with some different music. It was finally the right kind of music - the kind I needed to make me move. So, I did. And as I just said. I WAS THE ONLY PERSON DANCING.

And I was dancing my ass off.

Now let me bring another aspect of the 30-something we successful negroes and feeling our cool selves set. There are men and women there. Some couples. Some single dudes. Some single chicks. (Which is about how those things go, right? I know. Almost not even necessary to say.)

And of course, where there are single men and single women in the place, folks are looking at each other. In the bourgeouis negro set, this happens rather surreptiously. Because nobody wants to be seen checking anybody out.

And me, being the flossy single chick that I am. I was checking out the dude candy in the place. I got to noticing that just about every dude in this place was short. And when I say short, I mean all of them but two were shorter than 6' and not even possible matches for me in any way.

As a female who is 5'10" in bare feet, to me, guys that are shorter than 6' are short. Because when I put shoes on and most often, I am in boots, heels or high heeled sandals.

However, it occured to me that because my girlfriend who is hosting this party is 5'3", to her, these guys are tall.

That leaves the two tall dudes standing all the way across the room in the kitchen. One of which was rather Delicious. However, the out of town house guest of my gf whose house we were at whom I had met the night before when we were all at The Tavern, had somehow worked into the brief conversation that she and I had that she had "sent word about that one". Which was cool with me. Hell, I wasn't there to pick up negroes anyway. I am already quite busy enough thank you. (Not that I would have ignored a proper advance :-D)

Which brings me back to my dancing.

I am jamming for like the 5th song straight now (but not breaking a sweat). One couple got up and shuffled around for a few minutes and then sat back down.

I turn around and Delicious is no longer on the other side of the room. He is now sitting on the stool that I had vacated when I started dancing and that I am still less than 6 inches from.

And as things often go when two single, attractive people are in the same space, we begin conversing. Less than two minutes later, my gf comes through and pulls my shirttail and whispers, "Unt-uh, don't try that one."

I got so immediately pissed my vision went blurry for a couple of clicks. Delicious sensed something was wrong and asked what was up. In my new uncutness, I told him that I had been warned to stay away from him and for her to say something like that it meant that it was time for me to go.

I found my coat from her utility closet, said some polite good nights and headed for the door. Delicious grabbed my hand as I was passing by and was like, "What's up? You're really leaving?"

"Yes, I'm leaving. I am a grown ass woman and I don't play kid games. At the point that she said that shit to me, that meant that I was no longer welcome here and that it was time for me to go. I have been told not to talk to you. However, if you would like to walk me to my car, you're more than welcome to do so. Let's roll."

I walked off and didn't even look back to see if he followed.

Of course, he did.

As he walked me to my truck, I gave him the full scenario and told him exactly why things happened the way that they did. I described the female to him and told him of her interest. (His response: "You mean the Old Chick?" (An aside - yes, there was a small chuckle of satisfaction at his statement.) He then says, "Y'all are funny."

My response, "Naw, THEY are funny. I don't play those school girl games."

We got to my truck. He asked for my number, a hug and a New Year's kiss. He got all three - the kiss being a rather benign, brief meeting of two sets of very soft lips.

I have plans to address this foolishness with my gf - soon.

Y'all think I overreacted?

(Disclaimer - This is not what I planned for my first post of the year to be about. And this rather lengthy post did not even cover the other way in which I was tried by my ex-shithead starting with text messages at 236a. But you know what...Oh well to ALL of THAT...it's the new year, bytches and it is SexyCool's UnCut Year of Big Fun - more on that later.)

Kick rocks, bytches.