The Nice Guy Experience

I was scrolling along on Instagram, as I often do in the middle of the day at my job, when I came across a meme about women not liking nice guys.  Nice guys finish last.  Women only date ass holes and then complain that all men are the same.  I go to the comments and I saw all of those amazing nuggets of wisdom from men who have been spurned by their love interests.  I remember the first time a guy bragged to me about being a “good man” and told me that I didn’t deserve him because I didn’t want him.  It involves him bringing paternity test results to my job so you want to keep reading.  This is a good story.

I am going to take you back to the year 2003.  I was teaching in a small suburban district in the DFW area.  One of my good friends was an ROTC teacher with over 20 years of experience under his belt.  One day after school I wandered downstairs to chat him up.  Lets just call him Sgt.  When I went to visit him, Sgt was talking to a young man in his classroom.  I apologized for interrupting and I told him I would just come back later.  I never got a good look at the guy he was talking to but Sgt. called me back down because this dude wanted to meet me.  I will call this guy Pete.  I am changing his name to protect his idiocy.

So Pete ended up asking me out that day.  He thought I was pretty and apparently enjoyed listening to my snark.  He told me that he was in the Navy and that he had to go up to Boston for a few days but when he got back he wanted to take me out.  I said, “Sure”. The first date was completely normal.  We went to dinner, saw a movie, and he took me home.  Nothing out of the ordinary happened.  He said he had to go to Boston again for work but would be back and wanted to go out again.  I told him to call me when he got back.  He called me just about everyday that he was gone.  Again.  Everything was normal at this point.

When Pete came back to town he picked me up from my house and told me that we were going to catch a movie and grab dinner again but he needed to go to his grandma’s house first to get something.  I thought nothing about this.  I told him that was fine thinking that I was going to sit in the car until he did what he needed to do.  But when we arrived, he insisted that I get out of the car.  I said, “No. I can just wait for you.”  But then I looked around at the neighborhood, which was kind of rough, and realized I might should follow him inside.  In my head I thought that nothing bad could truly happen if I went with him but if I stayed outside I might get abducted or shot.  I agreed to go inside and that’s when shit got real.

Inside the house there were a gang of people! His grandmother, two aunts, cousins and some other people that I can’t remember.  There was a big ass spread of food.  His grandmother, a short, heavyset woman with silver hair came out to greet me.  But she didn’t actually say hello.  She took one look at me and looked at Pete and said, “When you bring home one that I like, I will let you know.”  She walked away and I thought, “Oh hell!” Guys, I know I am not cupcake.  I know that I am not a peach all of the time.  But that lady didn’t even give me time to say something inappropriate or offensive. If she had given me a few minutes I am certain I would have said something to make her want to fight me.  This was one of the few times that I was completely innocent in a situation.

He had this aunt who had a lazy eye.  She was also a LARGE woman.  Like she took up an entire love seat by herself.  She offered me something to eat and I politely declined and said, “No thank you”.  She promptly mimicked me and laughed and said, “You sound like an old white girl. ”  A second aunt said, “Pete tells us you speak Spanish.  What other languages do you speak?”  At this point, I am irritated.  My guard is up and I am defensive.  I said, “English.”  This aunt glared at me, “Oh! So you’re trying to get smart?”  I said, “I have been smart.  I am just getting here.” All this time, Pete is standing there grinning proudly like an idiot.   The grandmother offered me a plate and I said, “No thank you. Pete and I are going out to eat when we leave here.  We aren’t staying.  He said he just needed to get something.”  I gave him a pointed look.  Did this ass clown just blind side me and introduce me to his family on the second date???? I was shook!  So we left the house and we rode in silence to a Bennigans.  I remember the restaurant because the Monte Cristo sandwich was amazing and that’s what I ordered.  After being teased about the way I talk, the way I look and his grandmother telling him that she didn’t like me on sight, I earned that damn meal. I digress. I was sitting in the car trying to figure out how I was going to get rid of this guy after this date.

At the restaurant, Pete told me what a good woman he thought I was and how beautiful I was.  He said that he was excited that I got along so well with his family.  He was obviously not at the same family gathering because that whole meeting was a hot ass mess.  He told me because of all of that he needed to be honest with me and  had something to say to me. I braced myself thinking he was going to propose or some shit and I started forming my escape plan.   But his news about knocked me on the floor.

Him: I might have a child.

Me: Excuse me????

Him: I might have a kid on the way.  See I was in Boston and I met this white girl. A bunch of us went out and we all had sex with her…

Me: What????? Like you had sex with her at the same time????

Him: Yeah so we all had sex with her so it might not even be my child.

This revelation did not upset me.  It made me soooo happy! I quickly told him that I wasn’t interested in dating him because I didn’t date men who had kids.  He insisted that this probably wasn’t even his child.  He told me he was a good man and thought I was a good woman and we needed to be together.  I explained that not only do I not date men with kids, but I also don’t date men who run trains on chicks and the fact that he was even in this situation wasn’t cool.  I told him to take me home.

I didn’t hear from Pete again until about six months later.  I took a personal day one week and I went back to the school to pick up some things when all the kids were gone.  Sgt saw me in the hall and stopped me.  “Pete was here looking for you today.  He made a beeline for your classroom and was upset that you weren’t here.  It turns out that baby isn’t his.”  My heart dropped.  “Can you tell him not to come back?  I am not interested! Tell him not to come back here!” Sgt told me he wasn’t going to get in the middle but wanted to give me a heads up so I wasn’t caught off guard when he comes back again.

The next day at work I was on edge all damn day.  I kept my classroom door closed.  When I got to my last class of the day, I thought I was free.  School let out at 2:30 and it was 2:00.  My elation was short lived when one of the kids in my class said, “Miss?  Someone is at the door”.  My whole body tensed.  Another kid said, “Who is that?  Is that your boyfriend?”  I didn’t respond.  I turned to see him peering at me through the window on my classroom door.  He opened the door and I held up my hand to stop him.  I gave the kids something to do while I went and dealt with this fool.  I promise you that was the quietest that class had ever been.   I went outside into the hallway to talk to him and closed the door behind me.  The class was dead quiet because they were nosey, petty little jokers and I am sure they saw my body tense when I saw him.

Me: I am at work! What are you doing?

Him: I have some good news!

Me: It’s news you couldn’t have just called me with?  This is my job! I work around kids! You can’t just show up here like this!

He seemed to not hear a word I was saying.  Instead of apologizing and asking if he could talk to me later he pulls out this piece of paper and hands it to me.  The piece of paper was *drum roll* paternity test results.  There was a picture of him, a woman, and a picture of the baby on the paper and results that said 0.000000% chance that he was the father.  I was seething.  He chattered on, “See! Now we can be together! That baby is not mine!”  My sharp reply was, “NO! We can’t!” LORD! WHYYYYYY????  I hadn’t changed my mind.  I told him I wasn’t interested and not to come back again.  I couldn’t even believe he brought that bullshit to my job.

I don’t know if the kids in my class knew what was going on or if they heard any of that conversation.  I know you could have heard a pin drop in that classroom because they were trying to listen. I was visibly irritated. My irritation continued over the next few weeks as Pete continued to call, send text messages (it was 2004 so text messages cost money.  He was running up my phone bill on top of being a pain in my ass)  and sent me gifts.  He wrote me poetry. He showed up at my job at least two more times after I told him not to come back but he claimed was there to visit Sgt. He would make a lap by my classroom though.  He finally got shipped off to Japan. But he didn’t go quietly.  He had to get one last jab in before he left.  “I talked to my aunts and they said that I can’t force you to be with me.  So I am going to leave you alone.  You clearly don’t want to be with a good man and don’t deserve one.”  Jesus, take the wheel and drive the truck off the damn cliff.

So he had unprotected sex with a woman.  He performed this sexual act with a group of his peers and they all experience an epic pregnancy scare.  He shows up to my job uninvited with paternity test results and proceeds to practically stalk me after I told him to go away forever and he is a good guy? Why in the world would I waste my time on a guy like that?  If I was a bitch for not wanting any part of that foolishness then I will gladly wear that title proudly.   Sometimes these “nice guys” and “good guys” aren’t as nice as they think they are. I will go so far as to say that if you have to tell a woman that you’re a nice guy or a good man then you probably are a train wreck.  Your character should be evident through your conduct.

He contacted me ten years later on Facebook and asked me why I didn’t want to be with him back then.  He started beating the dead horse about women not liking nice guys again.  I was NOT nice in that conversation at all.  He blocked me shortly after that.  Oh well…

 

Tis the Season for Access and Possession Fights…

Around this time of year, I start getting calls and texts from “friends” that I don’t hear from all year long because school is going to be let out for Christmas break.  These seasonal friends expect me to come out of retirement and dust off my bar card to go to battle with their baby mamas, baby daddies, ex-wives, and ex-husbands over who gets to have little Emily for the holidays and who gets to pick up Ted from school on the day that school lets out. It’s either that, or they want me to scheme with them so that they can come up with a devious plan to keep the other parent from seeing their children.  That’s right.  This girl is not only a former teacher, but also the owner of an active license to practice law in the State of Texas.  Today’s blog is a blanket attempt to address these issues without having to directly talk to anyone.  Let me also throw it out there that when I get these calls, none of my seasonal acquaintances ever have any money to pay me for my time or knowledge.  They say things like “lawyers charge too much” which is why I usually ignore their calls. I am still paying for this law degree.  I don’t normally shell out free legal knowledge but I am feeling the Christmas spirit  right now.  I want to save everyone some headaches so here is my Christmas gift to the mommies and daddies out there with unnecessary drama.  So are here are the most popular hits I get every year during the Holidays since I crossed over to the dark side after taking the Bar Exam:

1. My ex-husband never pays child support so he doesn’t get to see my kid.

So first of all, that’s not just your kid.  Rephrase that to say “our kid” because when the two of you got together to do the horizontal polka and he didn’t pull out or wear a condom and you weren’t on birth control, you took the risk of getting knocked up together.  So let me put this as plainly as I can: YOU WILL GO TO JAIL FOR NOT OBEYING A COURT ORDERED VISITATION SCHEDULE.  Also, you can be fined up to $500 dollars for each violation of the court order.  So if you didn’t let the kid go to see his dad six times, that’s $3,000.00 in fines you would potentially have to pay.

So with that said, moms and dads, the first question is whether or not you have a decree or a court order that says who gets to see your precious ankle biter and when they get to see him/her. If you have a piece of paper signed by a judge, you don’t have a choice but to let the kid go when it’s the other parent’s turn.  I don’t care if they haven’t paid child support in 10 years and the kid is 11 years old.  You have to let them go and follow that court order to the letter.  Does that mean that your former significant other, sperm donor or side dude/chick is off the hook financially?  Absolutely not.  There is an appropriate remedy for a person who is owed child support.  You file the appropriate motion with the court, have the other party served, set a hearing and watch the judge do his or her magic.   However, what custodial parents don’t understand is that the same consequences apply to them when they willfully keep a child from seeing the other parent. The non-custodial parent gets to see their child whether or not they are meeting their financial obligations.  So if you’re not letting the other parent see the child and he isn’t paying child support, you guys are going to be cell mates.  Have fun with that.

2.  My ex’s new girlfriend is a bitch and I don’t like her.  I am not sending my kid over there.

Cool. You’re going to go to jail.  You’re going to pay fines. You’re going to pay attorney’s fees. If your ex’s new girl cooks meth next to your child’s spaghetti-os then you are probably right not to send the kid over there but you need court intervention/permission to stop the visits.  Not liking your former lover’s younger, hotter new bedtime partner is not enough reason to disobey a court order.

3.  My kid refuses to go to the other parent’s house! I can’t make her go!

Tell your darling baby that she has to go for her visit and if she doesn’t she is going to have to live with the other parent while you serve your six months in jail because she won’t obey the court order.  So ask yourself who is running the show.  Is it you or little Brittany?  Who is the parent here?  Don’t let your kid get you locked up.  Follow the order. Even if it means you get her in the car and tell her that you’re on your way to a Backstreet Boys concert and you push her out of the car while it is still moving in front of her dad’s house.  Do what you have to do.

4. These are my kids and nobody is going to tell me what to do with my kids

Let me reiterate that failing to follow an access and possession order in Texas may result in up to six months of time in jail.  I had a client once who had three kids. His ex wife liked to play these games with visitation where she would show up late to drop the kids off for visitation when it was time for the kids to go to bed or she would come early and when he wasn’t home from work yet to meet the kids and she would just leave with the children and say she came but he wasn’t home. She would also conveniently forget that it was his weekend or his night.   He didn’t have a lot of money but he had some fierce documentation. He had emails, text messages and screen shots of conversations on Facebook messenger. He had her social media posts where she bragged about the trifling stuff she was doing. He recorded conversations where she demanded more money outside of the child support he was already paying faithfully.  “If  you want to see your kid, you need to give me $200.00”. I charged him a nominal fee and I ran into that court room like I had just won a $100,000.00 on the Price is Right and showed the judge my pattern where his ex-wife was denying access.  I introduced all of my pretty evidence. We had a full blown hearing where I made that twat waffle cry on the stand because she said, “You didn’t give birth to my kids.  I did.  Nobody is going to tell me what to do with my kids.”  In my closing statement I reminded the judge that this woman said that the Court couldn’t tell her what to do because those were her kids.  “Judge, she thinks what she says trumps what you say because you didn’t give birth to her kids! The only way you will show her otherwise is if she is punished to the fullest extent that the law will allow.” I am petty. She was a dummy. My client left with his kids.  His ex-wife left in handcuffs.  Because I believe in pursuing criminal contempt.  Go big or go home, I say. Easiest case I ever had to do.

My Christmas wish is for all custodial parents to stop being ass holes to the non custodial parents.  Non-custodial parents, you’re welcome for this blog.

 

 

 

Teacher Disclaimer: I will fight your child.

I haven’t blogged in awhile.  I just watched a video on Facebook that has compelled me to write today.   A teacher in California was caught on video fighting one of his students.  According to media sources, the teacher asked the student to leave his classroom.  The kid refused and proceeded to curse at the teacher and use racial slurs towards him. This student also threw a basketball at this teacher.  The teacher is in jail and I want to find his Gofundme account so that I can donate money to it. I am not saying this teacher was right, but I am saying I understand. I was a teacher.  I clawed my way out of the profession like Andy dug his way out of prison in “The Shawshank Redemption”. Teaching is rough.

I am not concerned with why the teacher was kicking the student out.  I am more concerned with two things: why this kid refused to leave when he was told and why he thought it was okay to throw something at a grown ass man and expected not to get molly whopped.  I am also concerned and amused with some of the comments from parents underneath the video.  One parent said, “I don’t care how disrespectful my kid is.  If a teacher puts their hands on my child I will personally…” and that’s where I stopped reading.  I am a “retired” educator.  I taught high school and middle school Spanish.  I stopped teaching after ten years in the profession because one day I was going to need bail money.  Sometimes those kids made me want to tie explosives to my uterus and light a match.  I was good at my job.  But I used to make it clear from the first day of school that I come with a disclaimer:  I fight kids.  If you step to me like you’re going to hurt me,  you make the threat that you are going to, or get brave enough to take a swing at me, I will open a T-Rex sized can of whoop ass on you like you have never seen.  You might have walked into my classroom but you’re going to bleed out. I don’t advocate violence.  I advocate self defense.  And here is a message for the parents who say “not my kid…” :  If I will fight your kid, imagine what I might do to an adult. Because an adult is allegedly my equal in size and strength.  You and your precious baby could catch these hands. Teach your offspring to keep their hands and all objects to themselves and they won’t have any problems.  When I was a teacher, I wasn’t there for physical or verbal abuse from your spawn.  I didn’t get paid enough for that.

I am trying to figure out how we got here.  I went to school in a small East Texas town and I don’t remember any student ever trying to fight a teacher or throwing something at a teacher.  Ever.  Back then if we fought each other as students, they called the cops.  Imagine what would happen if one of us attacked a teacher.  But now it seems like every couple of months a video surfaces of a student attacking a teacher.  Sometimes the teacher fights back and sometimes they don’t.  I tip my hat to the teachers who have the self restraint to not fight back.  The Lord hasn’t delivered me from my violent tendencies yet.  In fact, I have been known to take the stance that even Jesus flipped a table once.  That means once a year I get a freebie where I can lose my cool and stomp mud holes in people when it is warranted.  Those freebies have rollover like the old AT&T cell phone plans.  If I don’t use my freebie, I can keep it the next year and have two to use.  I am just following the example of Jesus as set out in the book of Matthew chapter 21 when the people turned the temple into a Walmart Super-center. I try to follow His ways in all that I do.  But I digress.

I have noticed a growing trend of students being disrespectful and violent towards their teachers.  Parents and administrators don’t want to hold these kids accountable for their actions but in the same breath want to complain about teacher shortages and not having qualified teachers to work in their schools.  They even have the nerve to complain that most teachers are there for a paycheck only and don’t care about kids. Newsflash: schools will not recruit and retain qualified educators whose passion is educating and molding the youth if when they come to work their safety is guaranteed to be in jeopardy on a day to day basis.  Some people will argue that at no point should an educator lose their temper or physically strike a student.  If it gets that bad, then the teacher should call for administrator.  These might be teachers but they are also human who have very human reactions when they are being attacked. I can tell you from personal experience that sometimes when you call for help from the office,  no one comes.  Or if the administrator comes, that kid who threatened, cursed, and assaulted you will be right back in your class the next day if not within minutes.

I have ten years of experience as an educator, a master’s degree and a doctorate.  I was fun, engaging, and creative.  Most of the students that I taught would tell you that I was likeable and one of the best foreign language teachers they had (but would also tell you I was crazy and that they wouldn’t mess with me).  Several of my former students went on to study Spanish after they graduated high school and are fluent in the language.  A few of them became Spanish teachers themselves.  Others are thriving in other professions using their foreign language abilities.  But you wouldn’t catch me back in a classroom if Jesus Christ himself were there serving Tiff’s Treats and hot chocolate because these kids have lost their minds.  I would be like, “Nah, God. I have diabetes.  I don’t need any cookies and hot chocolate.  I’m good.”  I don’t really have diabetes though.  I also love Tiff’s Treats cookies.

While I was good at my work, there are tons of other teachers who are far more talented than I was and will ever be.  Guess what?  I have conversations with them and they always want to know how I got out.  They want to get out of the classroom.  On top of all of the grading, teacher conferences, ARD meetings, professional development and other duties, they also have to be a punching bag for your kids for around 40k a year?  It’s sad that those dedicated and talented people are leaving education but I can’t blame them.

 

I forgot that it was Valentine’s Day but when I remembered, it was EPIC

If you were upset that you were alone on Valentine’s day, I want you to relax.  Chill.  It’s not a big deal.  I will tell you a secret: I have never received a gift on Valentine’s Day.  In my 37 years on this planet, I have never even gotten a card from a guy.  When I was younger, it bothered me.  Now, not so much. I don’t buy into the hype of the holiday.  Single Awareness Day?  Please.  I am aware that I am single all of the time.  It’s not a Greek tragedy.

But this year I LITERALLY forgot about the holiday.  I went to a restaurant after work on V-day and the hostess shouts at me, “Happy Valentine’s Day!”  I stood there with a deer caught in the headlights look. All I wanted was a glass of sangria and some happy hour appetizers.  I didn’t need this grief.  So I awkwardly said, “Thanks?”  The manager of the restaurant did the same thing.  She ran up on me like she wanted to steal my wallet and shouted, “HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY! I AM SO GLAD TO SEE YOU!”  Listen, she is lucky she didn’t catch a left hook because she scared the hell out of me.  

While I was sipping my adult beverage and people watching,  I remembered that I had made a plan a few days earlier for Valentine’s day.   I even posted it on Facebook.  I decided to go to Wal-mart and stand in their seasonal aisle and watch men frantically search for gifts for their boos, side chicks and wives. I was going to give unsolicited relationship advice.  For free.  So I went.  It was great.  

As I stood in the middle of an aisle with scraps of candy and sad stuffed animals on the shelves, a tall black dude walks up.  We made eye contact and I smiled really big at him.  It doesn’t take much to encourage men or stroke their egos so he took the smile as a cue that it was safe to talk to me.  No one told him that stranger danger is real. 

Him: Hey, there! How are you?

Me: I can’t complain.  How about you?

Him: (looks embarrassed) Oh! I forgot about Valentine’s day.  I am shopping at the last minute.  

*He picks up a stuffed dog*

Him: What do you think about this?  Do you like this? 

Me: Ummm…Is that a gift for your daughter?

Him: No…

Me: Oh. Because grown women don’t like toys as gifts.  At least not that kind of toy…

He laughed.  But I could tell he wasn’t here for my nonsense.  He walked away before I could give him directions to the Wal-mart jewelry section.  Cubic Zirconia’s are a girl’s frenemy.  Sangria makes me brave. I flirt with strange men in Wal-mart when I am tipsy.  

Happy Belated Valentine’s Day Everyone! 

I don’t end friendships because of a difference in political views. I end friendships with people who are dumb.

I want to put this out there for people who are shaming people for deleting friends on social media for “political views”.  If you were deleted from my friends list on social media, it was not because you have decided to vote for one candidate or the other.  I give people the ax for saying bigoted things and/or saying things that are indicative of the fact that they have shit dust for brains and the maid came by and did a half ass job of sweeping in their head.  So as a result, there is just shit dust residue in their cranium.

I am going to give you an example.

One of my high school teachers hates Hillary Clinton.  That’s fine.  I don’t really like that fool either.  I didn’t vote for her the first time that she ran for President.  He likes to go on these diatribes about how if you vote for Clinton you must be brain dead.  According to him, you are going to burn in the lake of fire if you vote for Hillary Clinton.  He will follow this up with some scripture that is either inapplicable or twisted to align with his agenda.  One day, this particular gentleman posted an article with a picture of a blonde woman on stage grabbing a male exotic dancer by the crotch.  The caption alleged that the woman was Hillary Clinton. My dear old teacher posts, “Pictures don’t lie!”  Someone immediately commented, “That’s not Hillary Clinton.  That’s Florence Henderson.”  I laughed so hard that I thought I would need someone to come and resuscitate me.  He immediately challenged the young woman who corrected him.  She quickly substantiated her claim with a link from snopes.com.  This made me laugh harder.

Friends, if you are in your 60s and you can’t tell the difference between the mom from The Brady Bunch and Hillary Clinton, we can’t be friends.  I can’t allow myself to be associated with that level of stupidity.   The disassociation has nothing to do with political views.  It has everything to do with the fact that you either need cataract surgery or you need a psych evaluation and refuse to do something to help yourself. Either way, if you can’t distinguish Carol Brady from Bill Clinton’s wife, you probably eat paste and think that it is melted ice cream.

Additionally, statements that begin with, “Blacks just need to…” or “Black Lives Matter is a terrorist group that…” will likely get your feelings hurt.  People have the right to their opinions.  However, when an individual makes gross over generalizations about certain groups of people, I tend to Hulk out and rage a little bit.  Such statements will likely cause me to quietly end our friendship.

My point: I can be friends with someone who disagrees with me politically.  I can’t be your friend if you are a bigot or just plain dumb.

I Wish I Could Get You Drunk Enough That You Would Forget I am Married…and other lame lines

I haven’t written anything in awhile.  I have had some huge changes.  First, I moved to Mississippi because I took a job here.  I am actually shocked that I was offered the job because I blew the interview over the phone.  The Vice President of Human Resources interviewed me over the phone and in the course of the interview he was really nervous that I wouldn’t relocate to Mississippi from Texas and he asked me various questions about why I would be willing to move.  I knocked all of his questions out of the park.  And then he asked me a question that stumped me.

Him: So what do you know about Mississippi?

Me: (*long pause*) Well… not much.  I only know what I learned from that movie Mississippi Burning and what I read in John Grisham novels.

Guys.  I wouldn’t have hired me.

My move to Mississippi has been an adjustment.  One of the things I have noticed is the men here are a bunch of cornballs.  I am thrilled about this.  I was running out of victims in Dallas.

Just so that we are clear, you need to understand that I don’t date.  I don’t bother to try. This love shop has been closed for some years now.  I am the president of the Iron Panty Club.  Nobody is sticking their hand in this cookie jar because there is a pirana waiting to take your hand off if you try to take a sugary snack without permission.  But since I have moved, I actually have been out with a couple of people.  Neither date went well.  That’s a topic for another blog though.  Trust me, those blog posts are coming.

A new friend I made decided she wanted to help me make some friends and professional connections so she introduced me to some guys.  One of them, let’s call him John, invited me for a cup of coffee.  I meet John at a local coffee house and shit rolled down hill really fast.  Just as I sat down he said, “I just want to put it out there that I am married.”

WHOA, PAL! Calm down! I looked around the room, confused.  I looked down at my blouse to see if I was wearing a sign that said , “Tasty” across my chest or some other signal that I was on the prowl and open for business.  I reassured him that I was under the impression that this was strictly networking and had no plans on trying to awkwardly seduce him.  Do you know that this fool looked disappointed?  He tried to explain why he opened with that.  He told me that he met a woman on LinkedIn and she was really angry when he didn’t disclose that he was married when he met up with her.  He went on to tell me that LinkedIn is a hookup site for professionals. Yeah.  So I am sure there was way more to that story but I wasn’t interested in pursuing it.  During the meeting, he was flirtatious to say the least.  I had to reiterate that I wasn’t interested.  We finished our overpriced beverages and went our separate ways.

A few days later I get a text message that said, “I wish I could get you drunk enough that you would forget that I am married.”

I should have been outraged.  Instead, I was amused.  Who did this joker think he was?  My reply:

“That’s too bad.  There isn’t enough alcohol in Ireland on St. Patty’s day to get me that drunk.  But there are plenty of women out there that don’t need to get drunk to sleep with you and some of them take American Express.”   #savage #hewasnotready

He tried to deflect and say he was just kidding.  His number is blocked now.  I don’t need that drama in my life.

I share this with you, my friends, because some of you may be all wrapped up with someone who is married or you feel like you don’t have any options and that someone else’s spouse is the best you can do right now because no one else is knocking. I don’t know about you but my track record on the dating scene is way too crappy to add seeing another woman’s husband to my karma.   I am a firm believer that the root of infidelity is people not respecting other people’s relationships.   We can stop extramarital affairs one cheating bastard at a time if we all stick together and hold these fools accountable.  The End.  (Not really the end! I have more awesomeness coming for you!)

 

Fairy Odd Parent

I am a godmother people! I am a little pumped about it too!  One of my best friends had a baby girl three weeks ago.  She asked me, “So I want to talk to you about you being my baby’s godmother.”  I answered, “Absolutely.  Just send me a job description and a list of duties and I am all over it!”

There is no job description.  I am going to make this up as I go.  This is going to be so awesome.

I get to share this baby.  I get the benefits of a kid without stretching out my lady parts and whipping my boobs out in public to breastfeed.

My mother was concerned when I told her.  She said, “Did she not have any other friends she could ask????”  My mom is questioning someone’s parenting decisions.  This is hilarious.  This is the woman who sent me to stay with her sister, who had no rules or boundaries at her house, every summer.  The sister who told me that gorillas wanted to hump me at the zoo.  But I bet you didn’t know that my aunt Edna gave me my very first piece of lingerie.  When I was nine.  I thought I was a little older but my mother confirmed it.  I was nine years old.

One summer, I was poking around in my aunt’s dresser looking through her clothes.  I came across a red negligee. It was lacy and part of it was see through.  I pulled it out of the drawer and held it up in the air like Rafiki held Simba up on The Lion King.

Me: What’s this?

Aunt Edna:  Oh! That’s my sexy wear.

Me: Cool! Can I have it?

Aunt Edna: Sure!

I was so excited.  I ran to my room and tucked the new piece of clothing in my bag.  And then I forgot about it.

When I got back to east Texas, my mom was unpacking my bag and she shrieked when she saw my new wardrobe addition.  “Where did you get this?!?!?”  My poor mother looked as white as a sheet.  Can you imagine going through your nine year old’s bag and finding honeymoon wear?

“Oh! Edna gave me that! She said it’s her sexy wear!”

Friends, it is inappropriate to give a child clothing that is only appropriate for her wedding night.  I know this.  I learned from the mistakes of my foremothers.  So sweet little god baby, I swear to only give you pajamas that have feet in them until you turn 30.  I will also take you to the zoo and not scare you about gorillas escaping and trying to have their way with you.  I am going to do such a good job that no one is going to even know that it is me.  You can also have a cabbage patch doll because they don’t really give you cancer (another blog for another day, guys.  My parents were such liars.)

*Maniacal Laughter*

I am a Fairy Odd Mother.