Have you ever gone to do something and knew, before you did it, that it was going to be a bad idea? Yet you did it anyway? Because you’re an idiot? Allow me to say yes to all three.
A couple of hours after I ran into Young Black Hottie in the hall, he knocked on my door and asked for my number. That way he could text me about us getting together.
I called her a lot of things when I was texting him the other day trying to get answers. I called her cunt, whore, bitch and slut. But I wasn’t blaming her and I don’t actually think she is any of those things. She didn’t know about me either. (According to him.)
And even if she did, it’s not her responsibility to maintain the relationship between Dreads and myself. It’s mine and Dreads responsibility. We are the ones that are supposed to care about what is going on between us.
So why did I call her a bunch of bad names in my texts?
Dreads has always been a quiet person. But lately (the past few weeks) he was more like silent. He wasn’t joking around as much as usual. The sarcastic banter than we normally engage in seemed to disappear.
I kept asking him what was wrong.
He kept saying “nothing.”
I have a problem with being drunk and owning a phone. Maybe I should just get a phone that doesn’t allow me to text people. That would solve my little drunk texting problem.
The texts can go two ways depending on my mood-sexual or downright mean.
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| woodynyou on Going to the Gyno |
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| mattdyne on Going to the Gyno |
 | Jacque on The Blackest Man on Earth… |
