Boo'd up for the Weekend Pt 3 of 3

SUNDAY

I'm immediately agitated as I rolled over and feel air where "Rocky" should be in the morning. I'm cursing him for ruining my sleep as I hear what would appear to be someone scrambling what I assume is eggs in the kitchen. The sizzling of something on the stovetop lets me know that I haven't been completely abandoned. My baby was making me BREAKFAST! I stumble into the kitchen to lay my head on his massive chest and breathe him in. He scolds me for getting out of bed but wraps his arms around me and kisses my forehead.

TLC2, the weekend early-bird had already woken me up two hrs prior for his breakfast of french toast sticks. So, with nothing else to do, I climbed back into bed, and waited for breakfast to be ready. I watched "The Fabulous Life of "Paris Britney Lohan" " on VH1 until "Rocky" walked in with steak–n-cheese omelet and pepsi in hand. I ate and watched the show, smiling at the knowledge that all the money, baubles and $200/1oz jars of face cream in the world couldn't buy the happiness that I was feeling at the moment.

We finished eating and "Rocky" went to get dressed for church. I have been slacking in my classes damn near all semester and Sunday was my cram day. He left out and I showered and put in my "Study Enigma" clothes: shorts and tank top.

I set TLC2 up with Spiderman 3 and Go-gurt in his room and cracked open my Calculus book so that I could take my exam online. I spent the next four hours sucked in the world of Calculus, Verizon, Tila Tequila and The Hills. (I realized that I had no virus protection on my computer and wanted to order some. Unfortunately, none of the idiot, human or computer could help me)

Two hours into my work, I started dinner – pot roast, roasted potatoes and corn on the cob. "Rocky" called me from his mom's house to check in and make sure I was doing what I my work and gave me kudos for finding a way to fix a static problem we'd been having with the phone.

I watched my recorded episodes of "The Real Housewives of Orange County" as I folded the clothes from the previous day.

"Rocky" called again a few hours later from his cousin's house just as I was finishing eating dinner.

Rocky: "Babe, remember that night we were going back and forth with the riddles?

Me: "Uh huh . . ."

Rocky: "What's that one you told me that I liked?"

Me: "The one about the rabbit? What's invisible and smells like carrots, that one?

Rocky: "No, I don't think that's it."

Me: "The one about girls who work at Hooters?"

Rocky: "Nah, My cousin just told me that one, it was another one you'd said."

Me: (laughing at the mental image of these grown as men telling each other these silly as jokes/riddles): "I don't know hun."

Rocky: "Alright, don't worry about it. I'll be there in a little while."

Me and TLC2 try to watch the rest of Daddy Day Care, but decide we don't have or want to. He escapes to his room to watch Spiderman for the 89th time that day and I make chocolate chip cookie dough for later. (Usually I just buy the ready-made Pilsbury ones, but with the Betty Crocker "just add " one, I can take some of them damned chocolate chips out.

"Rocky" comes in, TLC2 takes a bath, we read two Spiderman books (he's obsessed I tell you) and I put TLC2 to bed and jump in the shower.

I bake the cookies and "Rocky" and I eat them as we watch Family Guy.

He gets up get us a cookie refill and asks if TLC2 had any cookies. I tell him "No, because he didn't finish his dinner." I turn the volume on the tv down as I hear TLC2's door squeak. Minutes later, "Rocky" comes into the bedroom looking guilty.

Me: "You gave him a damned cookie, didn't you?"

"Rocky": Huh? Nah, babe. . why you say that???"

Me (getting up to go check myself):" Cause I know you"

Sure enough, I look in on TLC2 and he's munching away on a cookie

I come back in the room shaking my head, knowing my son and what will happen next.

Sure enough, five seconds later, in walks TLC2 looking for his cookie pusher for his next fix.

"Rocky" tells TLC2 that he gets no more snacks because he didn't eat all his food. TLC2 concedes, but I know the battle will finish tomorrow. "Rocky" wins (for now.)

"Rocky" and I spread out on the bed for a few minutes before I suggest we play "I declare War". I know I have to work tomorrow but I try to prolong sleep for as much time as possible. He kicks my ass in record time and we give up on cards for the night. He tells me I need a Scrabble dictionary so we can play that. He knows I don't have one, but is aware that my mom does.

Him (reaching for the phone): "You need to call your Moms"

Me (bluffing): "Call her yourself. . .(201)­­___-____

He dials the numbers, asks for her and proceeds to have an entire convo. I ignore it for the most part, just knowing that he did not really call my mother, who has a clue, but no proof that I'm actually with someone seeing as how I've been refusing to confirm or deny any rumors concerning such that have been going around my family for weeks. Also whom he's met only once or twice (FIVE YRS AGO) and wouldn't know him from Bob down the block.

Ha ha, the jokes on me, he DID call her.

She and I speak briefly as I hear my Step-dad in the background with his Barry White-voice and laugh to match. "Tell him he gotta do more than just call the mother. We wanna know he treating our baby alright!"

(This sentence in itself is disturbing seeing as how my stepfather has never refered to me as "our" anything. Growing up it was always, "Wilma, your daughter down there trying to burn the kitchen down" or "Wilma your child and her friends in there tearing up the living room." But never, EVAH, has it been "our baby". Not that my step pops doesn't love me/us. But he's just not that warm, fuzzy, family type. Or at least he wasn't. That is, until TLC2 was born, then he started getting all mushy and shit. . . I guess preemies have a way of doing that to people. But I digress. . .)

Me and Mother hang up and I look at "Rocky" in (pleasant) shock. I do not believe he really called her. Guess now I've got to share my secret. Not like I'd been hiding him. It's more like protecting everyone. My family gets attached quickly and shit doesn't always end pretty with me and guys. I'm still mad that my sister asked my HS sweetheart to church years after he and I had separated on bad terms.

They just don't know how to let go like I do.

I'd been planning on bringing him to "family" Christmas anyway . . . from the sound of my mother's voice, now I don't really have a choice but to. Guess it's time to stop being stingy and share my man with my family.

We lay down again and he gets a comb and combs my wild hair gently.

Him: "When you gonna braid your hair, Babe? In the morning?

(Every few months I give MY hair a rest from the weaves, braids and perms and live by half-wigs for a few weeks as I am now. I cornrow my thick-only-manageable-after-hours-of-attention-a-few-inches-passed-my-shoulders-lengthed hair throughout the week and take cornrows out during the weekend. Since it was Sunday night and my hair was unbraided "Rocky" was concerned.)

Me (eyes closed): "Yep"

"Rocky" (sitting up): You already be running late in the mornings. Get up.

I comply and sit up to see him sitting on the edge of the bed, comb in hand, waiting for me to take my seat on the floor between his legs.

I get a pillow to sit on and lay my head on his knee as he parts and cornrows my hair.

When he was finished, I went to sleep and dreamt about the sun's reflection on the water

Damn, I miss feeling like I did in December 2007....

Boo'd up for the Weekened Pt 2 of 3 (Myspace throwback)

ENIGMA'S NOTE: remember...this is from December of 2007...I AM NOT TALKING ABOUT OBAMA

SATURDAY

TLC2, the weekend early bird, woke me up at 9ish looking for breakfast. After getting him settled with Lucky Charms and Nickelodeon, I crawled back into "Rocky's" nook.

"It's your turn" he mumbled, trying to protect me from his ferocious morning breath. "Is nooooot", I sing, not wanting to do anything by stay where I was.

But, we had to eat.

He suggests eggs, grits, corned beef hash, sausages, pancakes. . I'm not making no damn pancakes and you gotta make the grits and toast. Fine . . . I had egg, hash and sausage duty and he was the designated grit-maker.

I put the maple and honey flavored sausage in the oven as he rolled a chair into the kitchen. He started the grits as I cleaned out the fridge. Would you believe I still had turkey in there from my stint as hostess on Thanksgiving???????

My kitchen window faces the backyards of two of my neighbors. Both houses have dogs – the house closest to me has two pits, One white, a girl, one tan, a boy. The house on the other side of that one has one brown dog, not sure of the breed, but he's crippled with a short hind leg. About a week ago I adopted them. They were outside howling and seeing as I never see either neighbor caring for them let alone a dish where food/drink should be, I took it upon myself to make the howling stop. (me on the phone to "Rocky" that first day. . . "Babe . . . can dogs have ham???") And so began my title as foster owner to three dogs.

As I went to throw one of the leftover turkey legs to the dogs closest to us, "Rocky" informed me that "dogs enjoy hot food too, babe". So I put both drumsticks in the microwave. I threw one to the tan pit next door. . I don't know where the white one was, hopefully she's ok, and stepped aside as "Rocky' with his ability to throw like a boy, threw one to the brown, crippled one farthest away. I was able to also give them a Tupperware bowl filled with leftovers that I had forgotten to take to work with me for lunch from the previous week - baked pork chops, yellow rice and green beans. I threw the cut up chops to them as "Rocky" put the rice and vegetable in a plastic bag and threw it over to them. "They gonna fuck that bag up trying to get to that food.", he said.

Once we were done cleaning, feeding and cooking, we settle in to eat our meal and watch "Slow Burn", a movie the lady at "The Spot" had assured me was "good as hell". ( it was aiight . . .)

About an hour into the movie, my sister called to swindle me into watching my nephews for a few hours. I guess so?

She dropped them off about twenty minutes later and TLC2 was in 7th heaven.

We finished watching the movie and "Rocky" went to get dressed. His friends and family will say that I've been holding him hostage for the past few weeks, but I just call it us taking our time getting reacquainted. (we met about five years ago and had lost contact here and there). Either way, I knew I had to stop being selfish and let him go for the day to show his face around town so people would know he was ok.

I drift off into an 'itis* slumber as he goes about getting dressed. I'm awakened a short time later as TLC2 and my youngest nephew (3 yrs. old) burst into my room. Apparently, "Rocky" had made them popcorn and DJ, the oldest (7 yrs) had hogged it and ate the last few kernels. "Rocky" intercepted and handled the "crisis" as I tried my damndest to drift back into my slumber. No such luck. Just as I close my eyes, the house phone rings. It's "Rocky's" mom. I get up and bring the phone into the living room where he's sitting at the computer. So much for sleeping.

My sister had guaranteed me a few hours to myself once she was done with her errands, so I figured I'd get some laundry done while she took the boys bowling later that day. "Rocky" and I watch the boob tube in the bedroom as I start sorting mine and TLC2's dirty clothes. Another crisis has arisen amongst the terrible threesome.

TLC2: "Mommy, DJ's eating his boogers"

Me: "What do you want me to do, hun, they're his boogers. He doesn't have to share them if he doesn't want to. You can eat your own boogers if you like."

TLC2 walks away looking as if he's had an epiphany. I just know he was thinking, "All this time you mean I coulda been eating my boogers?????." I know if was wrong, by I had a belly full of grits and my mind had shut down an hour prior. Sue me.

Rocky: (shakes hi shead at me and laughs then calls our to my son): TLC2, if you eat your boogers, you're going to grow up and look like a booger and no one will play with you.

Problem solved. All booger eating stops.

Within an hour's time, both "Rocky" and the boys bounce, leaving me to either put up and go to the laundry or shut up and get back in the bed... I grab my sweats, bag up the clothes and the cart and head for the laundromat down the block.

I spend the rest of the night washing, drying and stuffing in the bag (cause ya'll know I don't fold shit until I get back home). TLC2 is dropped off at about 9. He and I watch Daddy Day Camp until his little snores let me know I've been abandoned to watch that crap alone. I put him to bed, eat a drumstick (the ice cream cone), watch "Ugly Betty" and talk to "Rocky" on the walkie-talkie here and there until I dose off. "Rocky" rings the bell at 2-ish I let him in, we snuggle in. Then it's Sunday.

* Ever get the overwhelming urge to sleep after you've eaten a big meal??? That's the "itis!

Boo'd up for the weekend Pt 1 of 3 (A Myspace throwback)

Enigma's Note: This was written in December of 2007 for Myspace. Most of you will remember "Rocky" from my "To Catch a Cheater" posts. I thought about this series after reading Suga's article on black woman and their relationship requirements. This blog and the two that follow chronicles one of mine and "Rocky's" first weekends together from Friday-Saturday. Enjoy!

After spending most of Friday bored shitless at work, I was anxious to get the fuck outta dodge come 5pm SHARP.

I arrived at TLC2's (my son) school at 5:15 exactly with 15 minutes to spare to speak with Sister Such-n-Such about the school's upcoming Christmas show before the after school teachers kicked my baby out of class.

After securing my duties as a newbie stage mom, I grabbed the munchkin and we jetted to the grocery store to rack up on supplies for the weekend. I had been planning my weekend all day and I had big plans in store for us. I'd had visions of movies and comforters bouncing in my head all day, and the only thing I needed to make it come to light was to make sure we didn't run out of juice, tissue and food. I could do that.

As we walked towards the direction of the store and home, "Rocky", my boyfriend (yes, I said boyfriend . . . let's not make a big deal of it though, K?) called me on my cell. I informed him of my planned mission to search for sustenance and gave him my ETA (estimated time of arrival). Once he and I hung up, I spent the rest of the walk explaining to TLC2 the difference between pedestrians and drivers and why Santa Clause sleeps during the day (that particular convo was actually a continuation of one we'd had that morning. He asked me why the inflatable black Santa that was on our neighbors' front lawn was never fully blown up during the day and only at nighttime. I told him it's because Santa sleeps during the day so that he can make toys and deliver them to the kiddies at night. Of course all of this was for naught as at the end of the conversation, TLC, in all his infinite wisdom looked up at me and said, "But it's really all just pretend, right Mommy?") I love that 'lil boy!

Finally we get to the store and, as I'd expected, it was packed with people. One of the few things I love about living in the hood is this particular store. The grocery store itself is huge and reasonable priced, but the best part of it is the many little stores that surround it. There's a bank, a furniture store, a florist and a we-got-it-all store that sells everything from "LV" bags to the latest hood literature and . . .the greatest and hoodest of them all. . .the "Spot". That is the name that I have given to the little room located at the entrance of the grocery store. In there you can get the latest movie (ones that have come out and those not yet even in theaters, the latest cd's (mixed, club, R&B, you name it) and . . get this. .. coats, retro Jordans and Timbs too. Yep, gotta love the hood!

After copping us Spiderman 3, Daddy Day Camp and Slow Burn, TLC2 and I head in to get the rest of our provisions.

One of the things I've noticed about being in new relationships is all of the oldies that start calling once word is out that you're taken. Usually I just ignore the calls until they get the hint and lose my number. But, being 25 for the second year in a row, I'm trying to display some maturity. So, this time around, when the old guys started sniffing around and calling out of the blue, I took the calls and told them straight up that I was no longer on the market.

One guy in particular to that news exceptionally hard. Apparently he'd had big plans for US, unbeknownst to me and me having a man after being single for a year and some change had clearly fucked up his plans (though I hadn't heard from him in months and had only known him for 9 days before he got locked up for 9 months). Apparently me ignoring his calls through out that entire time had only convinced him even further that we belonged together. (huh?) But I digress. . .

Anyway, who should we see as we rounded the corner onto the pancake aisle, but the jokah in question . . . who proceeded to follow us around the damn store. You have got to be kidding me! So now as I shop, not only do I have to keep and eye on TLC2's wild ass (who buy the way often has to be reminded that we have to pay for stuff before we open them) but I have to try to dip and dodge this fool too. After professing his undying love for me and letting me know how special I will always be to him and how I broke his heart by having a man, he finally vanished and left me to finish my shopping.

Once at checkout I realized that I gone a bit overboard. I had only intended to get a few things but I was leaving out with at least 3 heavy bags worth of stuff. Unfortunately I had already assured "Rocky" that I'd be ok getting home, so he would no doubt be ass deep in cleaning up the mess TLC2 and I had made earlier in the day looking for his homework book. Plus, if I called him to come meet me, I'd have to hear a big, stupid speech about how I'm not Superwoman and I need to learn that I don't have to do everything myself anymore. . yada, yada, yada. I ain't wanna hear that shit, so

I put on my gloves and made it happen.

As TLC2 and I walked up the block, who is walking towards us but "Rocky". He knows me so well . . . he just looked at me with a smirk as I relinquished the bags over to him. TLC2 grabbed each of our hands and we made our way to the house.

I stepped into a house that was cleaned form top to bottom smelling like Indian fruit incense. As TLC2 got settled in, I showered my job away and put on my "weekend Enigma" uniform, his shirt. I lay in his arms as we debated on dinner. Chinese? Nope, had it for lunch (me). Pizza? Nope, not in the mood for it (him). "You know, you could always walk to Barshay's for some burgers. . . (me batting eyelashes and stroking his back. Him, not falling for it. Fuck it, will you make me a grilled cheese? Yep, problem solved.

I watched my recorded episode of the latest "Grey's Anatomy" as "Rocky" hooked up grilled cheese for us and hotdogs for TLC2. Loving my new situation, I smiled as he bought me my first one. He preferred cooking in the pan that could only hold one sandwich at a time. Since I wanted two, he bought me the first one as soon as it was ready, rather then both at a time so that they wouldn't be cold.

Once we were done eating, TLC2 shut his door and entered the world of a 5 year old and we played cards, "2000" to be specific. He'd taught me to play less than a week ago, but I had gotten good at whooping his ass. Later we snacked on York Peppermint Pattie Klondike bars and talked and laughed for hours about nothing specific and everything in particular. I laughed and snuggled until I was waking up and it was Saturday morning.

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.

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.