Horror Story

So I was working at a law firm and made a trip downstairs to the convenience store located beneath the building. While there, I happened to lock eyes with an attractive, tall, dreadlocked man who was suited and booted for what appeared to be his day at the office. He approached, we exchanged numbers, and he asked me for dinner and drinks the following day.  He seemed cool, but I wanted to be safe, so I chose a popular restaurant for us to meet where there would people that I knew.    

The day of our date, I washed my hair, straightened it, and put on this cream-colored sweater dress that complimented my assets….I was dressed to the nines.  To complete my look, I walked over to a nearby department store and had my favorite makeup artist do a little something to my face.  No one could tell me that I was not cute.  Like, paparazzi could have popped out of the bushes to take my picture because I looked like E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G. 

Make Up Model On Pink

Anyway, I was bouncing up and down the entire day at work ready for the day to be over.  Finally, it was 5:00pm and I grabbed a cab to get to the restaurant.  I walked in the restaurant, waved to some friends from the office who were already there because they left work early, and I grabbed a seat at the bar.  Now, this man was fine, so I wanted everyone to see us [yes, that’s what I get for vanity, but oh well].

I ordered a drink and an appetizer while waiting for him to arrive.  He was supposed to be there at 5:30pm and, at 5:45pm, I started texting him.  Suddenly, this sorta scraggly looking guy in a puffer jacket, tank top, saggy jeans and Timberlands walked in.  It was apparent that this scraggly fella was looking for someone, but I certainly didn’t think he would be looking for me….he was. 



This was the “handsome” guy in the suit from the day before.  [ What happened? Did you just volunteer somewhere and not have time to go home and change before dinner?]  He sat down and the conversation began.

Me: Hi
Him: Um, dis for us? [He picks up a chicken wing from the platter.]
Me: What? The food?  Yes.  But, what happened?
Him: Oh, I got held up.  You look church nice.
Me: Thank you. I dressed for dinner.  Did I misunderstand?
Him: I’m f***ed up, naw what I mean?  I ain’t know this was nice like that.
Me: Did you change after work or did you not go today?
Him: Yeah, you met me when I had on that bullsh*t [as he eats and talks at the same time]
Man chewing hamburger

Me: Huh? [at which time, the bone from the chicken wing that he plucked from the appetizers I ordered, that had been in his mouth and devoured, was returned to the plate WITH THE OTHER FOOD]
Him: My boy told me that the first time you meet your PO, you need to look like something.
Me: What?
Him: Yeah, I got out a couple of weeks ago and they made me stay at this joint until I could get this thing, I don’t know what’s it’s called [at which point he places his foot on the table and displays an ankle monitor].
Me: You just got out of jail??!!!!!
Him: Not just out.  They made me stay in this house…
Me: Transitional housing??!!!!
Him: Yeah, whatever the f*** that sh*t is…
Me:  What?!!!
Him: Hold up…you a lawyer right?  Can they charge me for this?  They talking bout I have to guarantee payment or something.
Him: Yeah, that f***er got me f***ed up if he think I am going to pay for this sh*t!
Him: But, if I wanna be out, I guess I gotta deal with this bullsh*t…

 The conversation continued with him rambling about his brother’s recent run-in with the law [his brother had just gone to prison] and baby mama drama [his brother had section 8 baby mama issues] at which point, I blanked out because a piece of the chicken gristle that he was gnawing on came out of his mouth and landed on my CHEEK…yeah, MY FACE!!!!


Him: My bad shawty.
Me: Excuse me I need to go to the restroom.

I called my best friend and told her to call me back with some kind of emergency. I went back to my seat and waited anxiously for that daggone phone to ring.  When it rang, I told him that there was an emergency at the office that I had to take care of.  He asked me if I was paying for the food, so I handed $20 to the waiter. 

Him: What about my drink?
Me: Umm, what about it sir?  I think I left something in the restroom. 

I had my coat and purse over my arm, saw my waiter in the hallway and told him that I wanted to leave out of the back door.  He laughed and guided me through the kitchen and onto the street.  I gave him another $10 to deliver a message to Mr. Scraggly that I had to leave and that it was a terrible emergency….I blocked scraggly dude’s number.


Looks Can Be Deceiving


What would you do in this situation?  Was she too vain? Would you give him a chance? Would you date a newly release convict with an ankle bracelet?

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