An Open Letter to "Mr. Big"

I had the unexpected pleasure of seeing a picture of Her today and, all hating aside, I am not impressed. I can see what it was that drew you to her though (didn’t we always joke about how you love the chickens?) lol From her blunt-blackened lips to her bra-less, saggy breasts, to the blotches on her exposed "cleavage" that heavily resemble smudges of newspaper ink {wash much, bitch? I keed lol} she is all that you desire and more (the rooster haircut was more than even I had bargained for). Being able to put a face to all of the many . . . interesting . . .things you’ve already told me about her has opened my eyes quite a bit.

As much as I hate to play prophet (though a facebook quiz I recently took confirmed that prophesy is my calling) I can see your future clearly. In another year or so, Her will be pregnant with your child (well, this won’t actually be able to be confirmed until the DNA test results are in, but let’s hope for the best, mmkay?) and two years from now you’ll be racking your brain trying to figure out how you got yet another Bonequisha-esque, hoodrat chick pregnant. You’ll be at home with all of your little “chicken nuggets” while Her is out at the club dropping it like it’s hot right next to your first babymom’s (whom I affectionately have dubbed “Chicken Hut”)

Now I understand why you and I could not be. Despite your claims that Chicken Hut’s hoodrat ways came as a shock to you (even tho in the every next breath you told me how she was 14yrs. old drinking 40’s when you met her), I can now see that that is what you like. It’s ok, really. As much as they enjoy it, not every man can handle a real woman. Some men need their woman to be out in the clubs every night, neglecting their kids, flirting with their best friends and taking days off from work so that the can get high. I now understand why our deep discussions on everything from the best rapper dead or alive to gentrification to the state of the black family or our mutual interests in the works of W.E.B Dubois, Karl Marx and Herbert Spencer or us being able to go from homies to lovers to confidants to (respectful) debating opponents was not enough for me to preserve your affections. I can now see why despite my ability to “ride” for you (without you even being my man for most of our time knowing each other) and notwithstanding the fact that my strength was something you have always complimented me on (along with my mothering skills, cooking abilities and oral techniques . . . but I digress). As I was saying, in spite of the fact that you labeled me “The BEST, hands down” in my sexual abilities, today I can clearly see why it was Her that you chose and not I . . . .


You sir, are a pussy.

An Open Letter to "Lucifer (a.k.a. my son's sperm donor)

Dear Lucifer,

I hate you so much. You are the scum between my toes.

I hope all the bad things in the world happen to you and only you.

Please die.

Signed,


Enigma Jones

Introducing: "Ex-fiance"

*Written for Myspace on 4/18/08*
***************************************

I'm a snitch.

I am.

I'm the youngest of four daughters, hell, for the first few years of my life, snitching was my only source of income. One of my sisters' boyfriends had a nosy ass moms who used to pay me for dirt on them, And me, being the eager entrepreneur, provided her with all the dirt she could shovel. That is, until my sister got a job. Sorry Mrs. B, but inflation's a bitch and she was talking big dollars plus candy. So, I switched teams and began getting paid not to snitch.

Some things never change.

Here I am, damn near 10 years later and I'm still getting paid not to break up happy homes (Read: tell on niggas.)

SMH

Fucked up part is, I don't play fair. I never have. But I make it a point to let muthafuckers know this from the door, "I tell, nigga!!!". And I'm picky about what I tell. My thug addiction has left me open to witness first-hand some things that are just wrong, immoral and yes, got damned illegal. But I don't tell on my boos.

But my neighbor, the one with the dog that he neglects and that I adopted and that was barking in the back yard all night for three fucking days straight? Yes, that nigga got the cops called him. Those little bad ass crooks-in-training who thought they could steal a car and hide out on my block like my neighbors and I wouldn't think four 12-yr-old, rusty-nail smelling bastids driving around in a Honda wasn't odd. Yep, dialed the cops from my cell as I stood in front of one of them giving him the death stare that I'm famous for. "Lucifer" who thought he could move to another state and start a new family while being thousands of dollars in arrears with child support and then send my baby a post card saying "Hey". Yep, took that return address and went straight to child support with it. And lastly, guys who know that I know that they have a girl/wife/baby momma that they shack up with and yet still insist on being up in my face. .. yep, I tells on them too!

But, as I stated before, I don't play fair. So yes, I'll entertain them and take what ever they give and let them try their best to wine and dine my panties off, all the while believing that I will be the down ass side chick who's just cool with them going home to someone else at night.

Until I get bored and/or she calls me.

Then, it's fair game. I'm telling 'errthing. Fuck I gots to lie for? Especially if my only real crime is taking advantage of the kindness of strangers stupidity of cheaters?
My ex-fiancé {he is only called this because he bought a ring and proposed. We never had an actual engagement and you'll see why in about 5 seconds}, a man who left me for another chick, proposed while he was still with said chick, (priceless!) and continued to call and profess his undying love for me even after the two of them moved in together, produced a child and all that other ghetto love crap, learned of my snitch status the hard way.

Recently, after about a year or so of us not speaking or seeing each other at all., he resurfaced. Since my Mr. is currently unavailable (I put that as a link so that you lazy bastards who have yet to request and subscribe to my other page can do so now and get the full story). I entertained the ex-fiance when he called a few weeks ago. He called out of the blue one night and rather than cutting him up the entire time like I usually do, I took a different route.When he went throught the "How's my lil' man doing?" crap that he usually does ( I shouldn't really call it crap though seeing as how he was with me when TLC2 was born and for the first two years of his life and has been more of a father financially to TLC2 than "Lucifer" even after we split, but I digress)

Anywho, when he started asking about TLC2, I played the "Lord what is I gon' do?" card and started bitching about tuition and T-ball fess and uniforms, rada, rada, rada. 3 days later, tuition paid.

Now, his girl friend and I have the same relationship any 2 females in our situation would have. In the beginning, I hated her for being a home-wrecking skank whore and she pitied/hated me for being the bitch her man kept running back or, as he his version went, the "crazy ex who couldn't let go". Then, as I began to get him out my system, I hated her for being a clueless skank whore who couldn't keep her man on his leash and she hated me for being the bitch her man kept running back to. Now, I'm amused by her for being a dumb, enabling skant whore who still can't keep her man on his leash but now is worse because she has to know that he really ain't shit but she's so afraid of losing that second income that she plays dumb like she don't know he's still a whore and couldn't possibly give a fuck about anyone but himself and his daughter and who is getting exactly what she deserves because she should have listened when ppl said "the way you get him is the way you lose him". And, in return she hates me for being the bitch her man keeps running back to who really doesn't even want him anymore but is willing to take his money and make him pay for being the sole reason that the winter of "03 is but a blur of tears and Tylenol pm.

So, long story short. She called me.

Her: Who dis'?

Me (laughing a hearty laugh and knowing exactly who it is since I'm with "Rocky" and I know it bet not be a bitch about him because I will gut a bitch like a fish if it is): Umm. . . Tasha, I think you have the wrong number.

Her: What? Who the fuck is this and how you know me?

Me: It's me Tasha. It's always me. No matter what you do . . . he just insists on keeping in contact with me. I tried to tell you. . .

Her: I know this is not no fucking "Enigma".

Me: The one and only. Now, what can I do for you?

Her: Just tell me if ya'll fucking.

Me (laughing): Oh no, we're definitely not fucking.

Her: So why the fuck is he calling you?

Me: Damn, funny how the tables turn, huh? Remember back when it was me asking you this and you said "Cause that's my dude", all the while fucking his brains out? Wow. . .

Her: So if ya'll not fucking, why is he calling you so much. This number is in here like ten fucking times.

Me: I know right? That nigga be beat as hell calling me all the fucking time, You need to get his ass a chew toy to keep him busy while you at work, shit!

Her: Alright look, I know we did you dirty back then, but the game is different this time around, we got a family and shit.

Me: silence.

Her: Hello?

Me: Yea, I'm here.

Her: Did you hear me?

Me: Yea, I heard that bullshit, I'm just trying to figure out why we're still on the phone.

Her: I just need to know what's going on.

Me: I'm not sure what you wanna know. I already told you I'm not fucking him. My days of sharing that dick with you are long gone. Trust.

Her (sounding defeated and truly confused): I just don't understand why he keeps calling you. He said ya'll were thru and that he didn't give a fuck about you. So why is he still blowing up your phone and shit?!?!?

Silence

Her: HELLO!

Me: Uh uh. . see now. . .don't start wit' that yelling shit cause you will get off this phone with a bruised ass ego. I already told you, I don't know what you want to hear and frankly this convo ain't nearly as amusing as I initially thought it would be so. . .

Her: Alright. Just tell me this. Have ya'll gone out or anything?

Me: "Out"? Hell to the naw, my boyfriend would choke the shit outta me if he heard I was walking the street with some nigga. Hell no!

Her: So why . . .

Me (actually starting to feel kind of sorry for the girl): Listen, he just checks in every now and then to see if me and my son are alright, that's all.

Her: Yea, I figured that, but why??? Why the fuck he worried about your house when he here. It ain't his responsibility to be looking in on ya'll like ya'll his family. That's not even his fucking baby!!

Me (taking a deep breathe, any trace of sympathy now gone because for some reason that shit hit a nerve): Alright listen, whether you want to acknowledge it or not, dude still sees us, me and my baby, as his family. And I doubt if he's going to stop trying to take care of us and make sure we're alright anytime soon. Now if I were you, I'd be less concerned about figuring out why he's still checking in on me and really try and ponder why it that your rent for this month is going to have to wait to get paid until next payday and what he did with that $930 instead.

Her: What? He gave you money???

Me (realizing that I have my own man and issues to worry about and frankly getting tired of holding the phone and kinda mad that I'm now going to have to rewind and start the episode of "Dirt" all over again cause this bitch can't control her emotions): Tasha I gotta go because I don't even want to compromise being the bigger person by rubbing shit all in your face as some kind of revenge. I'd be dead ass wrong for pointing out how ironic it is that when the two of you started fucking around, you made it a point to rub those funky ass air force ones that he bought you in my face and now here you are, 3 yrs later with your heart all invested in this nigga, a kid and still no ring and a late fee for your rent cause your man want to be paying tuition bills for kids he ain't even make and shit. I gotta go. But be sure to tell him I said "thanx" when he comes home.

Click.

She called back but I didn't answer.

He has since called to. He left me a message saying that he knew it was going to happen because even though he knew better than to store name and number in his phone, her seeing the number sooo many times and it not being stored was what tipped her off. He apologized for her calling and said it was fucked up that I told cause I could've just hung up on her. Apparently, he's going to let shit cool down for a few weeks before he tries to call me again, but I can just email him if me or TLC2 need anything and that it be easier for him to get shit to me if I would just be cool if she ever called again. (Cause apparently he has no plans on not keeping in touch with me)

SMH

Some niggas never. fucking. learn. . .


Fin.

Introducing: "Older Gentleman-friend" (OG)

Because I've mentioned him twice already, I figured it would only be right to introduce my readers to 'ole mr magic himself, my "Older Gentleman-friend"(OG).

I met my OG about six years ago about 6 months after Ex-fiance and I parted ways. I was standing at a bus stop one night on my way home from a Fashion Entertainment Board meeting at my school when a Jeep Cherokee pulled up in front of me and a very distinguished looking man hopped out. As he approached me, I accessed his appearance to determine whether he would be given the time of day. Tall? Check. Good looking? Check. Well dressed? Check. Only thing left was to see if all of that became insignificant once he opened his mouth. I said a silent prayer that this attractive, slightly older gentleman would not utter anything even remotely close to "Hey shorty, what it dew?". I was pleasantly surprised when he said "Hi, how are you? My name is OG and I had to stop when I saw you."

He explained that he was in a rush, but offered me a ride since it was sort of late. I declined giving him the "My mother told me not to take rides with strangers" line and I instead provided him with my telephone number when he asked. He called me the next day and we had your average introductory conversation: marital status? Kids, if so how many? Interests. . etc. We made a date to go out for drinks the following weekend. We spoke throughout the week leading up to our date and he had my attention.

Fast forward a few weeks and he had become my drinking sponsor. I was 22 at the time and was just getting acquainted with liquors 80 proof and higher. Though he was older, we had a lot of things in common and never really had those uncomfortable lulls in conversation that sometimes happens.

Because he had a daughter that was a mere eight years younger than I, OG was never put in to the "potential boyfriend" category. In fact, we have often gone thru phases when we are extremely hot and heavy, and then some when we don't speak at all.

He has since become a very crucial part of my life even though it has not been until the past month or so that I've learned of vital information about him (Like the fact that he had just gotten out of a 6 year marriage when we met and that he'd had a vasectomy, and that he used to be a chef).

Our relationship became sexual within the first three months of us dating and I am inclined to believe that part of the reason why we have not lost touch for too long is due to his big *ahem* ego ( he talks like this cuz he can back it up, he can back it up, he talks like this cuz he can back it uuuuuup! lol). I see him now as my "break in case of emergencies" penis and he never disappoints.

OG is what my bestie describes as "strange". (She and I JUST recently came to this realization about him and the word fits him so damned well). Now I don't mean he is strange in the trekkie convention kind of way, more like, he just . . .I don't know. He lies about very minor things. Though at one point we lived a mere 4 or 5 blocks from one another, there would be times when I would not see him AT ALL- not his car parked on his block, not riding down the street, NOT. AT. ALL. And then out of nowhere he'll call and pick up where he left off with me like it was nothing. He owns two cars besides "Baby", and they are all 2005 and later, yet he will ALWAYS cry broke. ( I susupect he does this to avoid hitting "Sugar Daddy" status w/me,despite the fact that I have never asked him for anything and he just offers things to me randomly) One time he was complaining about how broke he was and then two days later picked me up with a new tv installed in "Baby". I have no idea where he gets this money from even though I know he drives trucks as a day job. Though we are both extremely guilty of using the other for sex, he sucks at the morning-after call and that irritates the hell out of me. There have been many times throughout our "friendship" that I revoked his coochie coupon due to his inability to show his respect for me the morning "after". Now, don't get me wrong, he was never a potential boyfriend, so my feelings were never hurt, he just needed to be trained. In fact, up until recently, it had been years since he and I did anything sexual and he still has yet to regain all of the privileges that he once had.

But, I realize that he is one of the few (if not the only) male(s) that I can actually call my friend. I have had two boyfriends (Mr. Big and Rocky) since meeting him and was able to talk to and get advice about both of them from him. When Rocky got locked up there was a period of a week or two where no one knew what was going on with him and OG was able to talk to a few friends and get me his contact and visitation info. When Mr. Big and I stopped speaking regularly, OG became the person that would set me up with the "chief" and a stiff penis when needed. He has also proven himself to be quite relaible when it comes to giving rides when it's raining or late and I can call him at any time, day or night just to say "Hey" and babble about stupid things and he picks up and listens (despite having to be to work at 5am).

When his daughter was in high school, I was the one who made him aware of the sneakiness that all teenage girls behold and strongly encouraged him to keep an eye on her. We joke now at how funny it is that I was trying to convince him then that she was into some shit and now I have to constantly convince him that her spending her money like it's water doesn't make her a crackhead, it just makes her a 20 year old with no children.

Also, OG was the reason for my first ever groupie moment. It was about four years ago and I had cut him off in order to pursue other options and had not spoken to him in about four or five months. Then one day I saw him ride by in "Baby" his spanking new royal blue Mercedes coup with the all-white leather interior. My butt had to come in contact with those buttery seats. I had to get behind the wheel (did I mention that OG was also the person who taught me how to drive?) and I had to have at least two of my exes see me doing so. So, he and I began speaking again and I accomplished all of the above.

Yep, OG has a special place in my heart for many reasons. But, I think the main reason is because in all the time that I have known him, another woman has NEVER been an issue. I have never received any calls (yes, I do keep in mind that this could be due to the age/maturity of the possible women). But I have never so much as seen him in the car with another woman. (and I can not honestly say how I would react if I ever did). There has never been an instance when I've called and he does the I'm-next-to-another-woman-that-I'm-also-boning-and-I-don't-want-either-of-you-to-know-that-the-other-is-a-female double talk. I can call him at absolutely anytime of night and he either answer immediately or calls me back within 5 minutes.

He has done some shiesty things (like the time he moved to Atlanta and didn't tell me, then called a month later like "Oh hey, guess what?"). He is so mysterious with certain things that it's almost crackheadish. But I am starting to believe alot of his moves are to "protect" his daughter whom he has had custody of since splitting from her mother.

But, despite his semi-crackish ways, I can say that I have love for him and I know in his own twisted way, the feeling is mutual. We had made plans last week to go to City Hall to get married, you know, just cause, but I had an appointment for an eye brow waxing that I couldn't miss. So, who knows what the future will hold for Enigma and OG. . .

For those inquiring minds, 16 years. That's the age difference.

"You have a nice life 2"

Mr. Big Saga Wrap-up

A week later I saw that his facebook status had changed to "In a relationship" and I shut down for awhile. So many things went thru my head, I can't even. . . .

Fast forward (again) to us exchanging belongings and me "discovering" that he wasn't in a relationship. (His explanation for changing it was that it was in order to repel a couple of girls on his friends list. At the time, he an I were not facebook friends because I had deleted him, so I didn't even get into how he disregarded my feelings. He truly didn't think I'd ever see it. Oh, and don't ask how I knew his facebook status had changed, just keep in mind that my incessant need to know what's going on keeps me busy.)

Anyway, after that night we talked on and off and I called him a few nights just to prove (to myself, I guess) that "Her" couldn't be all that if he was still dropping every thing and running whenever I called.

I stopped sleeping with him a few weeks ago, and he called every now and then. I was getting good at breathing without him around and tried to move on. I had accepted him as my facebook friend again, but was doing a good job at ignoring his existence. I didn't even update my status with him in mind. lol But, I lost my shit when I logged on and saw his status front and center: "Had a great day with my baby boo and her fam".

I dialed Sprint immediately and changed my number, I blocked and deleted him from my facebook page and last weekend I moved out of my apartment. I tried my damnedest to change my email, but discovered it would be too much work. I need to move on. I need for him to not have access to me. I am the only element that I can control, so I had to do every thing in my power to ensure that he couldn't reach me when he felt inclined to because I don't feel strong enough to not get sucked back in.

My test came just yesterday when I got an im from him:

Mr. Big (11.47am): Hi Tee
Mr. Big (11.54am): No hi?
Mr. Big (12.01am): You have a nice life 2

Now, I can't take too many kudos for being strong, because I didn't see the msg until after he had logged off. But, to my credit, when I did see it, I did't email him or im him and let him know why I hadn't responded immediately. I let it end at " You have a nice life 2".

As one of my favorite ppl would say: Time to rebuild this house of cards with Kings and Queens and get these Jokers out of here!

I think I'm ready to move on . . .

Let's finish the Mr. Big saga up, shall we? (Pt. I of II)

After seeing Mr. Big's status change to "In a Relationship", I stopped speaking to him for awhile. Somehow, on the day he actually came to do the exchange of belongings routine, we ended up "chiefing" and started talking casually again. (No, we didn't sex that night) I was, however, able to get some alone time with his blackberry (Yes, I know I shouldn't, but I do. I'm a work in progress) Anywho, I was able to read the more recent texts from his "Her" and found out that they were not in a relationship at the time. ( apparently him having two children was something she was not sure she was ready to deal with) Now the "Her" in question is someone that he and I spoke about often while we were boo loving. We both knew that the other had bench players in the background and we would talk about them often. "Her" was someone he described as a "chicken with a Masters". Yes, she had her degrees(s) but she was unemployed and if he text her at 12 noon asking what she was doing, her reply would usually be either "On *insert random hood block here* smoking with *insert random ghetto ass name of friend here*" or "Watching Jerry Springer". He'd told me that after “Her” bragged about how guys usually told her how bomb her sex was, he had to hold back from laughing in her face the first time they did it because it was so whack and her sex faces were so ugly. Also, among a host of other things, he often spoke about how he often had to give her the “bitch whatever!” side eye. Oh, and let's not forget the time he told me he'd picked her up to "cheif" and she left an "odor" in his car when she got out. (yea)

Now the two of them begin talking in July of last year. For the summer, he wild out and smutted the place up while I “dated”. By the time October rolled around, Mr. Big and I were on full on “boo boo” status. He was at my house most nights, we cooked together, laughed/cried about life together, played Xbox together, had bomb ass sex together and in November I convinced him that I wanted to meet the “Chief” and he made it happen. Christmas rolled around and we shopped for our children together, hell, I even wrapped his sons’ presents while he was at work. New Year’s Eve we bought 2009 in in the 69 position, together. Sometime between then and Valentine’s Day something happened. I remember one night he stood me up and then gave me a foogazy reason. That let me know that something or someone one was affecting his actions towards me. So about a week after he had been a no-show, we were standing in my kitchen cooking and I asked him the status of his “team”. He told me for the most part that it had been dismantled, but that “Her” and he had been talking more lately and were good friends. He said she had recently contacted him to “talk” and that they had been speaking again, but not having sex. I was visibly upset about this for a couple of reasons. For one, when we’d first started talking again, he had just gotten out of a long-term relationship with his sons’ mother and she had did him extremely dirty. I was there for him. I listened to him bitch about her, I gave him advice on how to handle his kids’ well-being. In essence, I was his fucking rock thru his hard time.

The two of us had never said we would be together. He never promised that once his shit was together it would be “us”. But I would be lying if I said that was not exactly what I believe in the back of my mind. I knew he had to mourn the end of the relationship and get back on his feet. I also knew that he and I being together would cause major issues with him, his sons’ mother and his sons (at one point in our relationship, I alerted his sons’ mother to the fact that he and I were together. The abridged version: he had told me they were broken up, I fell in love, I found out the truth, I blew up his spot like an army grenade, his son’s mother saw me as the Devil, they stayed together and I threw up deuces.)

Anyway, when he and I were back “on”, everything was so right and came so naturally that I had ASSumed that we felt the same way about each other and that once he was ready we would be (naturally) be together. Ok, I was wrong.

The night before Valentine’s Day he had stayed over and left for work that morning. We hadn’t had sex in about a week (that equated to about a month for us). We were no longer talking on the phone as often and it was no longer assumed that he would be in my bed at night.

About a week after Valentine’s Day, he had stayed over again and I had managed to spend some quality time with his blackberry again. (yea, I know). I had read texts from him to two of his platonic friends and he was talking about his “Boo” to them both. While one of the friends remarked “I guess you can turn a ho into a housewife” to his claim that she was “impressing him”, the other friend wrote that he deserved to be back in love. Oh, did I mention that the “boo” in question was not me??? This crushed me to no end and the next morning I was out of it. I got dressed and off to work as he still lay in my bed. When I got on the train he called me, he had seen me upset that morning and wanted to make sure I was ok. As I sat on the train crying behind my dark shades, I somehow managed to ask him the question that had always been hanging in the air. ‘If you were ready, would it be me?” He let out a deep breath like he knew the day would come when I would muster up the courage to ask and then he replied: “I doubt it. I think I need to start over with a whole new girl”.

Did I mention that HE WAS STILL IN MY BED WHEN HE TOLD ME THIS????

He then said that he and I needed time apart so that we could try to salvage a platonic friendship. I asked him if he really thought he would be able to be with someone else and not come to me for his “girlfriend needs” (i.e crying, bomb sex and that general chill factor, you know, the person you are once the stage lights are off and your at home with the costume that you let the world see you in hanging in the closet). He told me that he knew what he was giving up but that he felt like it was what he had to do.

To Catch a Cheater Pt. 3

Baby momma and I text back and forth for a lil’ while after that. She said that he just denied everything and acted like he wasn’t really caught red-handed. I just shook my head to myself as I read her texts because I realized that my friend had been right. Even with all the evidence that she’d needed handed to her on a silver platter, she still wasn’t strong enough to do what she needed to do for herself and he children. A short time after that, she text me out of the blue to tell me how she had found out that he had given another girl a face-ride in her house (she got told this by the girl in question). She also told me that as she was texting me she was “in-hiding” because just a few days prior he had punched her in the face for not saying good morning to him. Tire of the bull, she left to pick the kids up from school and just never went back (TO HER OWN HOUSE). I had to wash my hands of it all after that because we never got to that level of dysfunction in my crisis intervention class and I wasn’t equipped to deal with it accordingly. I wished her all the best and proceed to my Dr.’s office that day on my lunch break to get tested for everything under the sun. Being that I had just been there for my semi-annual testing, my Dr. asked me what bought me back so soon. I told her point blank, I had layed with a dirty bird.


I saw Rocky a few weeks later walking down the street as my son and I got into my older gentleman friend’s* pretty navy blue Mercedes coup with all white leather interior and just laughed and laughed and laughed at the expression on his face.

Upgrade, Bitch! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

*Yes, the same one that does the magic tricks! lol

To Catch a Cheater Pt 2

About a week later, I was texting back and forth with an associate who happened to also the sister of Rocky’s baby momma. True to her gossiping rep, not too far into the exchange she dropped the “You-ain’t-heard-it-from-me” bomb and informed me that “Rocky” and said baby momma were once again an item, like, a lived-in, on-big-family item. And, true to my I don’t give a what rep, I replied “Oh, I guess he couldn’t tell me that himself because the last time I saw him his mouth was full.” I then told her that if she was a good big sister, she’d let “old girl know that he wasn’t shit. Then I added, hell, give her my number, I’ll tell her! Less than an hour later, baby momma called my phone. Now, baby momma got on an proceeded to tell me that she’d gotten my number from Rock’s phone after he’d text me that morning. ( I still don’t know if that is true or not but it doesn’t even matter at this point) Anywho, she proceeded to tell me that they were together and said that she’d been telling him to tell me for some time now so that I would stop calling him. *blank stare* When her voice started to strike me as confrontational, I stopped her and informed her of the reality of the situation. I didn’t get too out of control as I sometimes do because her gossipy sister is cool and, in all honestly, it wasn't called for. So I tell her how Rocky had been texting me quite frequently and professing his undying love and how he’d given me a ride or two one V-day.

Amazingly, she didn’t even trip. In fact, she was kind happy about it. She told me, “He’s making me be his girlfriend, Enigma”. *blank fucking stare!* She goes on to tell me that Rocky (The Bobby to her Whitney), moved himself into her apartment and said they had to be together because she was a bad mom. She went on to tell me that he treated her like shit and yelled at her (in her own damned house) for everything. Now, I’d heard about their tumultuous relationship before (we have A LOT of mutual friends), but he always treated and spoke to me with the utmost respect, so I never gave the “word on the street” much thought. Plus, I’d never heard it from either horses mouth. Just thinking about him treating her in the way that she described really pissed me off to no end. Now keep in mind, my sympathy was still on high even after realizing that a.) she was probably sleeping with him when he and I were together, b.) this is probably what led her to veer out of her lane when he was locked up and she started losing her mind and forgetting that I was his “official” girl at the time. Add those points to the fact that she is a few years younger than I and became a mom at an extremely young age and he is all she has really known as far as “love” and I was determined to do anything in my power to help her “out” of her situation with him.

We concocted a plan to get him to my house and have her come by. I told her to give me some time because I had had him on knockoff for awhile and me switching up to boo loving status out of no where would make him suspicious, We spent the next few days texting back and forth exchanging stories and she actually apologized for ever throwing any shade my way in the past. (we’d also had a run-in when he and I had first met and they were in the midst of one of their short-lived breaks).

Anyhoo, our opportunity came about four days later. He called me to see what I was doing and I told him that my son was gone for the night and I was lonely. As he and I spoke on my house phone, I text baby momma from my cell and the set-up was on and popping! He got to my house about a half-hour later and she was on her way. As he and I sat there, him watching tv and me anxiously waiting for her call, I couldn’t stop thinking about how I’d been duped. It really took everything in me to to stop myself from blowing the whole thing by swinging on him. I know that guys lie and I am quite good at catching them in the act, however, it really never gets any easier to realize that someone you cared for could blatantly lie to your face without remorse.

She called my cell about 20 minutes after he’d gotten then and I went downstairs to let her him. To solidify it all, I was wearing his fitted n my head and had told him to get comfortable before I’d walked downstairs. When she and I re-entered my apartment, ‘ole boy had made himself comfortable by taking off his shirt and shoes and was pouring himself a drink. He’d also turned the lights out in the bedroom where we had been watching tv.

I walked in first and walked past him to the other side of the room. To his credit, homie didn’t flinch at all when he saw her. He just kept pouring his drink. It literally broke my heart to watch as she walked up to him and in a soft voice ask “Boo, what’s going on? Huh, boo?” It was then that the realization hit me, not only was she dumb in love, but she was afraid of him. He had just got cold busted and she was afraid of HIS reactions to it. Since he didn’t scare me, and I saw that she was failing to ask the proper questions, I stepped in. “What you doing here, Rocky?” I asked. This seemed to wake her up. “Yea, she added, “What are you doing hear?” He told her that he’d come by because I had text him, to which I responded, “So you had to come by here at 10-something at night because I text you? I didn’t text you on Valentine’s Day, so what were you doing here then?” He just started smiling at me and proceeded to get his stuff together to leave as she followed behind him like a love-sick puppy. He then proceeded to plead the fifth as I ran down our entire Valentine’s Day together, he never denied anything, mind you, just remained silent the entire time. The eventually left and I called her sister to tell her to check in on her in a little while. To which she replied, “ I’m not getting in it, you can’t stop no crack head from toking up and you can’t stop fool from loving an no-good ass man!”

To Catch a Cheater Pt 1

When the fall of ’07 came around, I had just gotten used to being Mr. Big-free (thanks to break-up 976,975) and really single for the first time in awhile. This is itself was new to me. Thought I would often go long periods of time with out an official boyfriend, I always kept me a “friend” or buck fuddy on hand for emergences. This time, it was just I and amazingly, I had become quite ok with that. So rekindling an old flame was the very last thing on my mind as I left my evening class and headed off campus. Earlier that night I had attended my graduation clearance workshop and was still feeling all gushy from the realization that I was FINALLY graduating. I was about to cross the street when I saw “Drake” standing next to his car. Drake’s brother and I had “kicked it” on and off for the past five years and Drake was usually the one that would reconnect us whenever we lost tough. (FYI-Drake’s is a damn-near-married whore who is always on the streets, so I would always bump into him as he made his way from one rendezvous to another) Anywho, I gave him my signature “Sup” and head nod and kept it moving. He yelled out to me as he tapped the passenger –side window and out stepped his brother Rocky*.

Rocky and I exchanged numbers (somehow) we were on and popping less than a month later. Now I blame it on the goose (even though I wasn’t even drinking) because looking back I don’t see how I boo’d up with that nut job. In no time at all, his fitted was all of a sudden rested at my house and not at the apartment he shared with his smut-bucket brother. Things were great until they weren’t anymore and I realized that Rocky had a misery inside of him that even my magic couldn’t cure. (That and the fact that Mr. Big must have another man’s piss around his mark and resurfaced and made me lose focus) Either way, Rocky and mine romance lasted a good for months before I “suggested” that he vacate the premises. After a night of screaming, yelling and me drawing a knife, he finally left. I found out the next day that he got locked up that same night (completely unrelated charges). Now, being in the thug-addict business as I was(?), I was used to losing my boo’s to the penial system. So, whenever I initially linked with a boo with “I’ll get caught” written on his forehead, I introduced myself as Enigma “I don’t do bids” Jones, just so there was no confusion regarding my absence once the cage door closed.

This time though, for some freaking reason, I opted for the ride-or-die role. (IDK why, I really, really, REALLY don’t). This lasted about two months before a few things happened: 1.) Rocky’s baby momma lost her fucking mind 2.) Mr. Big and I begin to boo love HEAVY and 3.) I realized that Rocky was a certified nut who really was acting like me breaking my “no bids’ policy was nothing and that he could have any about-something woman like me trying to hold him down. The fucker totally took me for granted, so I ended it with him. When they finally released him, we talked on and off, but I kept my distance.

Fast forward to Valentine’s day of this year. Mr. Big and I were on rocky ground and I was trying to prepare my heart for break-up 234,654,874,3998,327. Rocky called that day to wish me a Happy V-Day and asked what I was doing. I informed him that I had a bunch of errands to run and he volunteer to play Morgan Freeman to my Ms. Daisy. (I can’t remember Morgan’s name in the movie and since I’m at work trying to make this blog pass as an extremely long email, I ain’t googling it! ) lol

So, after accompanying me to get my taxes done, driving me to Costco’s and the mall for a video game and a few other places, Rocky took me home. He won a pass upstairs with the line “So you need me to drive you anywhere else or you wanna ride my face for a little while?” Tee hee hee. . . . So when I finished, he washed his face and left with his blue balls dragging behind him.

* Some of you from Myspace may recognize the name "Rocky" from my blogs entitled "boo'd Up for the Weekend Pts 1-3.