The Rapper: A Dating Story
The Rapper and I dated during 2 separate time frames.
The first time we dated, if I remember correctly, he wanted to break-up (and was a bit of a douche about it) and then he suspiciously found himself another girl to date pretty soon thereafter.
She was a Ho, so somehow that made me feel better at the time. In fact, her with all her Ho-like clothes and personality and Ho-like hair on some level still makes me feel better.
Because I may have kissed a lot of boys... but I ain't never been no Ho. (If you are picking up what I'm putting down...)
The second time with that Ho-loving rapper, most definitely, it was me that made that call to end things.
The second go-round I guess I just couldn't seem to revive any part of me that had liked him a few years prior....
He was super cute with dark eyes and hair and reminded me of T.I.
And he was mildy interesting....
But by nature, I just have a very difficult time forgiving people who have wronged me. (I.e. by dating a Ho-bag 4 seconds after dating me...)
I think a lot people say they have a hard time forgiving,
But I'm holding so many old grudges I've somehow lost count of how many and why.
(I'm still waiting on a few heartfelt apologies to come my way.... and then I can start unloading... But, No, holding the grudges isn't breaking my stride at all, thanks for your concern.)
So on the second-go round with the Rapper he was a lot more earnest and honest and forth-coming.
It was annoying.
Perhaps if he had been aloof, evasive and emotionally unavailable like many other men I swooned over we would have baby rappers running around today.
(Blegh, my humor just made me vomit a lil').
And the rapper has been nicknamed the rapper for 2 reasons:
1. His name is far too uncommon to have any sense of anonymity amongst my (or his) friends
2. He rapped.
It was the straw that broke the camel's back.
He rapped.
Like,
He literally made-up a song for me and rapped it.
He had the persona and look of a rapper, so that certainly wasn't the problem.
But, really, it was far too soon in our second go-round for him to wear his heart on his sleeve and be so.... available.
So when that voicemail came through on my phone, somewhere between booth 201 and 202 at Mimi's Cafe I just couldn't help but,
laugh.
I'm sure I could have been significantly more mature about it. Especially given that I played the rap over speaker-phone for my co-workers at the Cafe.
But, quite frankly,
He was a Ho-lover so it was nice to be able to laugh out loud at his expense.
I can't remember the lyrics, but it started with: "Cam-bri-aaaaaaah, what's crackin' witcha'...?"
And somewhere between table 313 and 315 I had to call him back and break the news that, as cute as his rap was, it just wasn't going to work out.
In good, mature, sportsman-like, predictable fashion,
He became all douchey, once again.
*Sigh*
And so I continued on in my work-shift,
Ever so pleased with myself for being upfront and honest.
And just because he was so completely irrational
I humbly decided to play,
for all who would listen,
That fateful rap song.
(Including, but not limted to, the regular customer eating his usual meatloaf along the bar, and the couple on 104 who enjoyed the humor over a bottle of Pinot.)
All in all, I'd say I handled that in a very mature, lady-like fashion....
More or less...
The first time we dated, if I remember correctly, he wanted to break-up (and was a bit of a douche about it) and then he suspiciously found himself another girl to date pretty soon thereafter.
She was a Ho, so somehow that made me feel better at the time. In fact, her with all her Ho-like clothes and personality and Ho-like hair on some level still makes me feel better.
Because I may have kissed a lot of boys... but I ain't never been no Ho. (If you are picking up what I'm putting down...)
The second time with that Ho-loving rapper, most definitely, it was me that made that call to end things.
The second go-round I guess I just couldn't seem to revive any part of me that had liked him a few years prior....
He was super cute with dark eyes and hair and reminded me of T.I.
And he was mildy interesting....
But by nature, I just have a very difficult time forgiving people who have wronged me. (I.e. by dating a Ho-bag 4 seconds after dating me...)
I think a lot people say they have a hard time forgiving,
But I'm holding so many old grudges I've somehow lost count of how many and why.
(I'm still waiting on a few heartfelt apologies to come my way.... and then I can start unloading... But, No, holding the grudges isn't breaking my stride at all, thanks for your concern.)
So on the second-go round with the Rapper he was a lot more earnest and honest and forth-coming.
It was annoying.
Perhaps if he had been aloof, evasive and emotionally unavailable like many other men I swooned over we would have baby rappers running around today.
(Blegh, my humor just made me vomit a lil').
And the rapper has been nicknamed the rapper for 2 reasons:
1. His name is far too uncommon to have any sense of anonymity amongst my (or his) friends
2. He rapped.
It was the straw that broke the camel's back.
He rapped.
Like,
He literally made-up a song for me and rapped it.
He had the persona and look of a rapper, so that certainly wasn't the problem.
But, really, it was far too soon in our second go-round for him to wear his heart on his sleeve and be so.... available.
So when that voicemail came through on my phone, somewhere between booth 201 and 202 at Mimi's Cafe I just couldn't help but,
laugh.
I'm sure I could have been significantly more mature about it. Especially given that I played the rap over speaker-phone for my co-workers at the Cafe.
But, quite frankly,
He was a Ho-lover so it was nice to be able to laugh out loud at his expense.
I can't remember the lyrics, but it started with: "Cam-bri-aaaaaaah, what's crackin' witcha'...?"
And somewhere between table 313 and 315 I had to call him back and break the news that, as cute as his rap was, it just wasn't going to work out.
In good, mature, sportsman-like, predictable fashion,
He became all douchey, once again.
*Sigh*
And so I continued on in my work-shift,
Ever so pleased with myself for being upfront and honest.
And just because he was so completely irrational
I humbly decided to play,
for all who would listen,
That fateful rap song.
(Including, but not limted to, the regular customer eating his usual meatloaf along the bar, and the couple on 104 who enjoyed the humor over a bottle of Pinot.)
All in all, I'd say I handled that in a very mature, lady-like fashion....
More or less...
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