Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Still On Pause

Deondre was supposed to come thru last night.  He text’d me around 8pm saying his mother had taken his car and went to the salon.  Now, I know how certain black salons get down. 

On average, I spend 22 hours in the salon every month, so I didn’t trip at the excuse.  But I lost it when his ass told me he wasn’t going to show.  WTF?

I told him he could come later.  10pm turned into 11pm.  When Sex and the City came on and I saw Samantha giving some corporate guru fellatio, I knew she’d be the only one sucking any dick that night.

I sent him a text letting him know I was pissed and felt played.  No response.  I know Deondre well, so no response means he read it, realizes he fucked up, but knows I won’t do anything about it and went back to his existence.

Do I think he’s lying about his mom using his car?  No.  I actually believe him, but if he is lying it doesn’t matter because he doesn’t owe me anything except good sex, and right now he has breached our contract.

All I could do was pace around the house screaming, “Pussy Ass Nigga” at different octaves.  Faye sat on the couch and just laughed.

It was funny, but it wasn’t.  I had actually gone to the mall earlier that day to purchase lingerie.  I’m returning that bitch today. 

In hindsight, none of this surprises me.

I told my girl yesterday in class that I had a bad feeling about last night.  I was way too tired during class.  My head started hurting, and I was cramping out of nowhere.  It wasn’t time for my friend to visit so I knew something was up.

When it comes to Deondre nothing is promised.  He is the most unreliable man (other than my father) that I know.  Yet, I still deal with his ass.

I tolerate him because the man is sexy as hell and I’ve wanted his dick for too long. 

Faye told me the horrible truth last night.  That I was getting played.

PLAYED.

I have always been the player but not the playee.  Karma ia a bitch.

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