Love in the time of Cholrea.....................and texting

I hate texting, hate texting, hate texting. Sorry ladies and gents, but I am still in my man hating, man loving, man hating phase, continuing my tragic routine of dating men I hate to love and others I love to hate. For the life of me I cannot figure out why men, (or as I have come to know them “tall boys with three legs”), will ask you on a date and then on the day of the date, THAT THEY SCHEDULED, text you the 3 letter word that I have come to hate more than the illusive facebook poke………….”SUP”. Thinking in my head, “DAMN, DAMN, DAMN here we go again with da dumb shit”.

Inevitably, “Sup is followed by “what you got planned for tonight”. Let the eye-rolling, teeth sucking commence. In my head, I’m thinking, “Well, like a fool I thought I was planning to meet you, since you asked me on a date, which is why, like a bigger fool, I got a haircut on a damn Tuesday (which no black man in his right mind does) which was much earlier than I needed, told my “he in to me but I’m not in to him boyfriend” I had plans and _______________ (things I can’t say on this blog but gay boys can read between the lines).

But for fear of being called “bitter” or even worst “jaded”, which I may one day find out to be true (once I get some health care, a psychologist and some medication), I texted ever so politely, “nada, sup with you”.

Does it really have to be this hard. Promise next post will be lighter. (Thinking to myself, “Lord make me White for a day”).

Sorry My Post are so late, I’m traveling.