Wednesday, February 12, 2014

My Worst Date

Today we are supposed to talk about our worst date.

However, I've never had a bad date. 

I know, I know. Lucky Tee. 

I mean, what can I say? I'm amazing and everyone that I've ever been on a date with makes sure that our activities reflect my awesomeness. 

There's also an outside chance that I warned people of possible suplexes and throat chops if they presented me with some low budget Dixie Dozen/Waffle House combo. 

I have standards people. I'll make sure they are met. By any means necessary. 

So anyway, there have been no bad dates. But I have had some really odd outings with men who were not my man. These usually occurred when I was out with girlfriends. Also, they were back in the days before I went straightedge, so keep that in mind when you judge me. 

Picture it. Louisville. 1997. The Elk's Lodge.

I was home from school for the weekend and my friend, Mahogany suggested that we go to the Elk's for some fun. Now I was all about this because whenever we went epic fuckery always ensued. How was I to know that on that night, I would be feeling the brunt of it all?

So we get dressed. I'm wearing a halter top and a long black skirt with splits on both sides. It was 1997. That was the hotness, try not to judge.

I'm on the dance floor amaretto sour in one hand, other hand caressing my Halle Berry cut like I'm super fine, and getting my life to this little ditty.

Now, I don't know if you know this about me or not, but I don't like folks in my personal space. There were two people next to me and I knew them both. Imagine my surprise when a large shadow covers us all and I feel the flesh of a stranger on my shoulders. It was covered by clothing...but still.

I froze. 

I'm talking mid-move. You would have thought we were playing Simon Says in that bitch.

I look to my right and Mahogany is looking up. And not just regular up. She's a tall girl and her neck was bent back 90 degrees.

That's when I knew that I was about to be accosted by Goliath. I went into fight or flight mode. Really, just flight because I ran off that floor so damn fast you would have thought that my ass was on fire.

Never dropped that drink though.

I found a seat at a table and finished off my drink. After a few minutes my homegirls walked up to the table laughing.

"He wants to meet you," they said.
"Who wants to meet me?" I ask with disdain.
"Him..."

And there was the shadow again. This time it covered two tables and scared a white lady into not liking black guys anymore.

I said the Lord's Prayer and looked up.

Wanna know what I saw?



Yep. That guy.

His name is Mark Henry. He's a wrestler. I didn't know that. I thought he was a University of Louisville football player, or at the very least a giant murderer. I was about 98.658% certain that he wanted to take me home, lock me in the basement, and boil me in a pot of Le Petite Black Girl Stew.

I didn't say a word. I got up and walked away.

He followed.


I'm certain this is what we looked like to everyone.
I couldn't get rid of him. 

After a while, I talked to him. We had what might go down in history as the shadiest conversation I've ever had with another human being.

Him: I'm Mark Henry.
Me: That's nice. 
Him: What's your name, beautiful?
Me: That will do.
Him: What? Beautiful?
Me: Yep.
Him: So Beautiful, what are you drinking on?
Me: Water from this point on.
Him: Gotta keep that body right huh?
Me: Some of us care about that kind of thing.
*He rubs his belly.*
Him: You don't like it?
Me: No sir. I don't.
Him: Can I take you out?
Me: Why?
Him: I like you. I can tell we would have a good time.

At this point I'm afraid. Why? Because I'm certain he's a serial killer and he wants to use my skin for an arm brace.

Mahogany comes and saves me. We leave.

As we are walking across the parking lot. He shows up. If you didn't know, Mark Henry moves like a damn ninja. Never seen a big be so damn stealthy.

He asks for my number and a date again.

Mahogany turns around and yells "NO! Shit!"

And then we went home and saw on the television that he had recently signed a contract with the WWF for like $20 million dollars. 

The moral of this story? Never go to the Elk's Lodge. 


Swear this is what he looked like once that Yack took hold of 'em
Next time I'll tell you about a crush who went all Hulk smash when another man (a friend) touched my arm in a way that he deemed unacceptable. If ole boy was trying to get my attention, he got it. Dude was fine as frog hair too. Too bad he was a lunatic.

Moral of that story? Never go to the Elk's Lodge. 

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

My Best Friends

I don't have a lot of friends. I never have. I've just never been the I have to have a lot of friends type.

Wanna know something else? Every friend I have made me be their friend. I tried as hard as I could to be antisocial, unfriendly, and pretty much an all around jerk to make them go away. 

Turns out, that kind of stuff is what makes real friends stay. Every single one of them saw through that tough outer shell that I have and got to know the real me. (See also, yesterday's post)

For that reason, I feel like it's disrespectful to pick out one and say that he or she is the "best." They all show me their best self and I do my best to show them the same. 

Every single one of my friends is awesome and special to me. I know I don't tell them as often as I should that I love them and admire them. But I do. 

I don't tell them enough I'm proud of them. But I am. 

I don't talk to them as much as I should. I always say that I'm going to get rid of them. Some of them I even threaten with murder. But they take all terroristic threats with love so don't be calling the people on me. 

So instead of me talking about my best friend. I've decided to tell you why my friends are the best. I made a list. Because that's what I do. 

Deal.


Reasons Why My Friends Are The Best
  1. They get me. The weird sense of humor, sarcasm, wit, shadiness. They get all of it. And they entertain it. 
  2. They know what I've been through and they don't judge me for it.
  3. They always know the right moment to call or send a text to check on me or make me laugh.
  4. They don't let me disappear.
  5. They bail me out of jail.
  6. They will always throw the first punch in a fight for my honor. 
  7. They make me smile.
  8. They have cute kids that don't act like heathens and make me want to punt them out of the room.
  9. They believe in me. Even when I don't believe in myself.
  10. They know I'm not as hard I try to make folks believe, but they never call me on it.
  11. They send me snacks because they know my options here in the frozen tundra are slim.
So there. Ten reasons plus a bonus on why my friends are better than your friends. 

You mad?




Monday, February 10, 2014

Perception

So today I'm supposed to talk about how people see me vs. how I see myself.

This one is going to be a little difficult for me because I'm actually going to have use my brain a little. I don't know about you, but I try not to use the lobes of my brain outside of 9-11 am Monday-Wednesday. 

So here goes.

I'm about 83.847% sure that most of the world sees me like this:
He's a lunatic.
That's right. I know what you all think of me. Y'all think I'm nuts. It's fine. I know I'm not. 

What I am is honest. I'm upfront about most things. And sometimes I can get loud about it. But that's only when I'm passionate. And there are very few things that I'm passionate about. Usually, I'm chilling. Not giving very many damns about life in general.

That doesn't make me crazy though.

That makes me stress free. Well, mostly stress free. 

I am human. 

Some people may see me as very outgoing. Like I don't mind dealing with people to get things done or make things happen.

Not even.

I'm the most unoutgoing person in the world. I'm probably the shyest person you'll ever meet. I don't talk. Hell, I hardly move around if there's a crowd of people. And by crowd I mean more than 3. 

Crowds make me shutdown. I just can't handle being around people.

It's not because I'm evil. I know that's how some people see me.
Not me. I promise.
I've been told more than once that a person didn't approach me because they thought I would rip their head off and eat it praying mantis style.

Not sure where that bad rep came from. I'm not evil. I'm just not friendly. 

There's a difference.

I'm definitely not going to be the life of any party, when the party is over I'll be able to give a full run down of everybody in attendance. I believe most people appreciate my knack for spotting fuckery in a crowded room. I really believe that's why I get invited anywhere. I know it's not for my sunny disposition. 

So, to some of you I guess that really makes me:
Pick one.
There are very, very few people who know the true me. 

If they did, they would totally see me like I see myself:
Cute. Small. Wonderful.
If you got to know me you would know that I'm one of the kindest, gentlest souls ever. I love to have fun (within reason). My laugh is epic. Awkward dancing and people watching are my faves.

It's really sad that most of you will never get to see that side of me. 

Sucks to be you.


Saturday, February 8, 2014

Let's Make a Deal

The Warden gave me an assignment to talk about deal breakers in my relationship. I don't want to hear her mouth because I don't have any razor blades left in my stash so I'm just gonna do this to keep her trap on shutdown.

Before I begin the discussion you should know that I have been with my husband since right before I turned 16. On June 22nd, we will have been together for 20 years. This means that I have been with him for over half my life. In fact, if I do the math, I'm pretty sure it's close to 2/3. 

Just keep that lovely factoid in the back of your mind while I go through this, okay?

Back in the day, I kept a deal breaker on tap. I mean why not? I had to have something to put the fear of God and me not dealing with him in him right? A dealbreaker, to me, was a training tool. Something written down in the "Big Book of Shit That Girlfriends Do". I had to make sure I was being the proper kind of boo... so I set some ground rules.

If he didn't call me right back? We breaking up.

If he didn't remember to open doors for me or just be an all around gentleman? We breaking up.

If he didn't get my order right at Wendy's? Oh hell no! We. Breaking.The entire.Fuck.Up.

And I was serious about that foolishness. I'm really not sure why he dealt with it. Well, if you've seen me you know why he dealt with it but... I'm just saying. I'm not sure many other men would have. 

Then again... you've seen me. They probably would have.

As we got older, we made more deals. We broke more deals. And then we made the most major deal that any two people can make. 

Marriage.

We said vows. Those are like the ultimate in contractual agreements. 

And wouldn't you know it, we broke some of those promises too.

Things that I said I would never tolerate, the things that I said would be the reason for me to call it quits, none of it mattered when push came to shove and I had to make a real life decision. 

Maybe I'm a punk. 

It's possible. 

Maybe I'm a sucker. 

That's Likely. 

More than anything though I think the answer would be that I am ridiculously, deeply, wholeheartedly in love with the man that I literally grew up with. 

I can't just up and leave him because he broke some arbitrary rule that I made up for my happiness and comfort. 

That's not true. I totally have a list. 

Tee's Big List of Deal Breakers
  1. Ruin my credit. I've already done that once. I won't be living that less than stellar credit life again, especially not because of something somebody else did. I'll drop him like a bad habit if Experian and Equifax tell me to.
  2. Limit my time with the people I love. And by people I love I mean Justin Timberlake, Robert Downey, Jr., Idris Elba, Willie Geist, Bryan Williams, or Joe Biden. He ever tells me that I have to choose between him and one of my boos? Sayonara sweetie, it's been really real.
  3. Take my handbags away. Just know that if it happens you will see me on the news. 
  4. Dishonesty. Not really down for lies in any way, shape, form, or fashion. I'm too old for that kind of stress. I don't have time to be playing Inch High Private Eye on your ass and trying to figure out what you really meant or what you've been doing. Just tell me the truth and let me figure out what I want to do with it. Unless you're telling me I look better than Beyonce', then I'm with it.
He hasn't even tried to break any of these rules. He knows better. 

Seriously, in the 20 years that we've been together we've been through just about every trial that a couple can go through. If I had stuck to the rules that I set when I was 16 I know I wouldn't be with him.

I'm not saying that I'd be alone. You've seen me right?

I'm just saying that I wouldn't be with the person that I know God made for me. 

After writing all of that, I'm not sure that I made a point. Actually, I'm pretty sure I didn't. Whatever. I hope whoever is reading this got something out of it. Good night.