#was she a helluva lot more interesting and engaging than anyone since? yes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lizacstuff · 4 years ago

Note

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭🤯🤯😭😭😱😤😭😭😭😭😭😭😭🤬🤬🤬🤬😭 What did you think of the episode? I always look forward to reading your thoughts.

Yep. Your emojis pretty much sum it up, don't they? LOL. I think the episode is decent in terms of quality, it was well-paced, very dramatic, the acting from Hande and Kerem was astounding, but watching it was just like constantly toggling between pain and fury, and that is not that fun.

Part of me wants to say it was a well written episode, because it definitely made me feel and I thought it flowed well, but part of me wants to say it was terribly written because the number of contrivances and character assassinations (spoiler alert, I don’t list Serkan in that number) that had to occur to set it up is way too much. So maybe I'll settle on that the episode was well written, but the nonsense they needed to make it work was hackneyed.

This was the first time I cursed the 2+ hour format. On shows I'm used to, if an episode is hard to take, you just have to suck it up for 42 minutes, 2+ hours was a lot of sucking it up. My apologies in advance if I curse a LOT. I think I'm going to approach this by giving my take on each character in turn. I'll start with the characters on the shit list and it will go from shittiest to slightly less shity. Characters not on the shit list are down below. (spoiler alert: Serkan and Eda are safely on the NOT shit list)

(Keep reading below the cut)

CHARACTERS ON SHIT LIST

Selin - WTF? I've thought she was a huge, pathetic turd since episode 18, and I thought she left in a disgraceful way, siccing psycho Balca on him, and it was frustrating that she never had to answer for any of her psycho moves, but this is a new level of crazy, bitter, fucked up that I could not have imagined for her. The writers really said: how can we make her the worst person ever? Plot wise, at least they made it make sense why he would call her. The last time period he remembers, she was his girlfriend. I get it, and I think I get why they did it. As I've said before, if amnesia Serkan wakes up and finds this amazingly beautiful woman standing over him, and finds out she's his fiancé, even if he doesn't remember her it's not the worst thing in the world. They decided, I suppose, to make their journey back together that much harder and earned. They wanted him in the least receptive frame of mind when he met the amazingly beautiful woman. Enter Selin to manipulate and poison his mind. And lose any last shred of dignity she might have retained from the first time around.

Is there anyone who didn't want to slap the shit out of her every single second she appeared on screen? I have no idea where she got the confidence this episode. The only saving grace is the bitch is going down hard. Piril and Ferit both tried to warn her, as did Eda, but it's not going to be pretty for her. And the only thing I hope is that she actually pays some sort of price other than the utter emotional devastation and humiliation she's going to get. Frankly, I think she should be charged with kidnapping since she was hiding someone with diminished capacity that was the subject of a missing persons case. (Aydan can go down with her for not reporting it) Outside of soap operas, that is criminal. However, I doubt any of that will happen, she'll just slink off once she's found out and Serkan turns on her.

Aydan - WTF? I don't think any of us predicted she'd be a villain this episode, and this is the first of the character assassinations that was required to make the plot work. First, her son was in a plane crash, and is recovering from severe injuries, she gets a call from Selin and she doesn't grab Eda and catch the first plane to where he is? He has amnesia and she thinks he's able to make rational, proper decisions? So she just respects his wishes not to be disturbed and leaves him with his obsessed ex-girlfriend? Who is this woman? Not Aydan. For the first 16 episodes she didn't give a damn about what Serkan wanted, she imposed her will on him and even though he resisted, she never lost him. She thinks she's going to lose him by flying to his bedside and bringing the love of his life? This makes no sense. Second, she allows devastated Eda to continue being in the AGONY of not knowing what happened to Serkan??? FUCK OFF, AYDAN. But again character assassination required to see it work.

The one thing that's sort of in character, I think, is her hedging her bets with Selin and Eda. I've always said her acceptance of Eda was born out of self-interest. True, she saw how devastated Serkan was when they broke up and she wanted him to be happy, but mostly because she found out he was moving away from her and she thought she was losing him. She's a shrewd woman and she saw that the path to keeping him was Eda, so she got on the Eda train. I do think she genuinely cares for Eda, but if the Selin engagement lasts more than a couple days I could see her not fighting it like she should. Because where was she this episode in trying to get through to him? I get that everything happened over two short days, but she could have tried harder to talk sense into him and to probe for what Selin was feeding him. And she could have questioned Selin a whole helluva lot more.

Piril - WTF? What is with Serkan's best friends just accepting Selin back into the fold under these circumstances? How is Piril not furious that Selin knew her good friend and business partner was alive and didn't tell her??? Selin let Piril and Engin continue to mourn him and think he was dead when he was alive, and Piril is calling her her good friend? WHAT THE FUCK? I'm not sure if this is character assassination because Piril is a bit of an odd ball, but this is assassination on just basic human reactions. Who wouldn't be furious? Who wouldn't be repulsed and incensed that she tried to move in on a brain-damaged man who had been about to marry someone else?

Piril doesn't even need to be his best friend or to have participated in all his wedding festivities to know that's fucked up. How was Piril not screaming "BITCH YOU BE CRAZY" at her? Like it takes Olympic level handwaving to accept Piril's conversation with Selin. Especially since she knows Selin wanted to ruin his happiness at all costs! Yes, she at least brought up the subject and very weakly said "You know we all know they are very much in love" and warned her that things might end badly, but it should have been a helluva lot stronger than that, and she should have been furious.

Ayfer - She actually didn't do much this episode, which is the problem, because she also did very little to support Eda. TBH, I can't stand her to begin with so she makes it to this spot on the list, above people who should have been better.

Engin - He gets a few points for telling Serkan the story and trying to bring it up again, however, he just always stopped shy from actually defending Eda or really probing for what Selin told Serkan. Again, there's a short timeline, and maybe he's planning to do it and not overwhelm Serkan, which isn't a bad thing. I just don't feel like he relayed how happy Serkan became after he met Eda. Though, to be fair, I sort of get why we didn't get really heartfelt testimonials for Eda, we want Serkan to start to fall for her again without being told to. I think they're going for a situation where Selin is the only voice in his ear, poisoning him against Eda, but even under those odds, he'll fall for her again.

But his interactions with Serkan are not why he's on the shit list. He makes this list for just seemingly accepting Selin back and not voicing any concerns over her UTTERLY, PSYCHO, BIZARRE, eFFED UP behavior. Everything I said about Piril applies here. How is he okay that she kept the news of Serkan's survival from his best friend and business partner? Engin was the person Serkan confided in, he knows how he felt about both of those women. How is he not calling Selin out to her face?? So I don't need his friends to be in his ear telling him how much he loves Eda, but I do need them in his ear poking holes in the nonsense Selin is telling him and setting him straight on the state of their relationship when the plane went down. And I need them to be calling Selin out to her face.

Erdem - He remains on the shitlist for gargantuan dumbassery not committed this episode. Ferit - Ferit is low down on the shit list, but he still makes it for once again not coming down HARD on Selin. As her ex-fiancé he's in a unique position to call her out, and while he did issue her a warning, trying to soften it in terms of him not wanting her to get hurt was weak and ineffective and it feels like maybe he is still harboring feelings for her. UGH. Man, stop it! What is attractive about this bitter, manipulative psycho? Get in there and battle her on her own terms. Threaten her with the truth, push her, make her feel pushed into the corner so she gets reckless. Threaten to tell Serkan in front of her about the conversation you overheard that made you decide to leave her at the wedding table. Do something, and make it not for her own good.

NOT SHIT LIST Leyla - Little she could have done, in light of her relationship with one year ago Serkan, but it would be nice if at some point she gets some sort of dig in at him, "You were a better person after you met Eda." Seyfi - It seemed like he was in the dark about Serkan being alive, Aydan must have kept it from even him, so he can be on this list. (Again Aydan would never keep it from Seyfi, so more OOC from her)

Deniz - So far he seems like a genuine, not psycho guy. He might be harboring feelings for Eda, but he didn't do anything creepy and was genuinely there for her more than almost anyone else. Did anyone catch the vibe between him and Ceren when she was leaving his shop? Ceren wasn't even mad at Ferit at that point, but there was a definite... charged moment. However this show does that from time to time, remember when Fifi seemed to have a weird tension-y moment with what's his name, Babaanne's bodyguard in one of his first episodes? That never surfaced again.

Ceren - She was trying her best to be there for Eda.

Melo - She was trying her best to be there for Eda.

Sirius - Good boy! You know who your mama is.

Serkan - Look, Serkan was a grade A asshole (you were right, Kerem) this episode. However, I have so much sympathy for him. He is a VICTIM. The man was in a plane that went down, had injuries including a traumatic brain injury, and lost the last year of his life. He appeared to be having some sort of PTSD with the nightmares. (Also thank you jebus he's sleeping on the cabin couch and that witch was going to her own home at night in Istanbul). It's natural he called the person who he thought was his girlfriend. He was not to know that she's an evil psycho who was going to brainwash him. She is manipulating him, and I'll say it again, he is her victim. Also, I know lots of people think he was out of character and more harsh than he was in the pilot. He definitely was harsher than the pilot, but I don't think he was out of character. In this episode, think of him as episode 3 Robot Bolat, but throw in having amnesia, experiencing trauma, being brainwashed by someone he trusts, and suffering from PTSD.

It's a lot. He was so overwhelmed. I say episode 3 Serkan, because that's when Serkan realized he was starting to fall in love with Eda and it caused him to freak the fuck out and he was so cruel to her. He was a grade A asshole then too and we had that again, but heightened, in this episode. Sounds like he had these inklings of feelings before he even came back (he told Engin) that he didn't know what they were, but clearly they confused and frightened him, just like in episode 3. This is a man who doesn't believe in love. So to find out that he not only fell in love, but he fell so hard he became someone he doesn't recognize, I think made him recoil even faster and further, especially after Selin had brainwashed him into thinking he was manipulated into it by a bad person. So every time that Eda came near him and it affected him, whether it was physically like his heart, or that ineffable pull he felt, it made him retreat to a robotic defensive position. He didn't understand the feelings, they confused him and Selin made him fear them. Plus you add in how emotional Eda was, including the slap, and it was more than he could handle.

It was enjoyable to watch the moments where Eda affected him, (kudos Kerem because you could see it on his face). However, those moments just pushed him into a corner, so he retreated to the place he thought was safe, which is Selin. He said it to Engin, in his retrograde amnesia mind, everything had changed but her (little does he know). It's interesting that the few flashes of Eda he had were from very early episodes. So he's not flashing to when he was fully in love with Eda, and was sure of his own heart and mind. He's flashing back to when he first started falling in love and was also scared, confused and felt out of control. And remember he's a control freak. So I'm sure that a taste of those wild, exciting, out-of-control, confusing first feelings are also fueling his current crazed state of mind.

And that's how the events unfolded, with that state of mind. When Eda kissed him, he felt it, and it scared the crap out of him. And he said it right there in the moment, he wasn't going to let her "confuse" him, and he was going to put an end to it. And that's what he did, try to put an end to those very confusing feelings for a person he's been told is trying to manipulate him and take advantage of him. So to make the out-of-control feelings stop, the robot malfunctioned and did the one thing he thought would get Eda to stop pushing him and shut all of it down. He proposed to the person who currently represents safety and for whom there are no confusing, wild, uncontrolled feelings. He doesn't love Selin, so there are no scary emotions attached. But did you see him when he made that speech? He was confused, and stuttering, and stumbling and looked dazed af. That's someone in acute crisis. And that shot of his face when he's hugging Selin? He looks like someone just shat on his head. Could he be more miserable? Poor baby.

Eda - THE REAL POOR BABY! And the other victim in all this. Hande knocked it out of the park! She was so good. How many times did she break me this episode? A bunch. I loved that Eda was unwavering in her belief that Serkan was alive, even though everyone else had given up (except Aydan the lying sack of shit). I'm glad we know that Eda was so upset she wasn't leaving her room or eating, but I'm also glad we didn't see that. It's enough to know she started out devastated without the viewer having to wallow in it in an already upsetting episode, it was a smart move to immediately time jump 2 months. However, she wouldn't be Eda if she wasn't able to pick herself up and do what needed to be done. Which in this case was take care of Sirius, take over the firm, and keep track of the manhunt for Serkan. That's a lot on her plate, and of course she thrived.

It was nice the whole company was behind her when she brought home the award, too bad they couldn't have backed her up like that when it came to Selin! (pick a side, Piril!) They all need to stop acting like it's normal what Selin did! It's not normal!!!! Stop normalizing it and her! It felt like Eda was being gaslit at times, like none of the people Serkan remembered cared that Selin had obviously been preying on someone sick and injured and with diminished mental capacity. Why were they all like that!?!?! I know, because if they’d reacted like a normal person would, Selin couldn’t have continued the charade.

I was wondering how their first meeting would go down and Eda fainting seems entirely appropriate. And of course, he caught her without even knowing it's his job, “If you fall, I’ll catch you.” *sob* Eda pulling out the old classics to get him to remember was the best. Even through the pain and fury, I thoroughly enjoyed many of those moments. I, along with everyone, was thrilled to see the handcuffs back. Good move, Eda! And they fell right back into bickering and bantering. Though I think they should have taken his car, because all their memories are driving together in that car.

Bless her heart, she was doing everything to jog his memory, and I applaud that. But on one hand I think maybe she made a critical error in being so emotional (not that she could help it) because he was really freaked out by her, and I know she had been put through the wringer and Serkan not remembering her was the blow to end all blows, but she sort of lost it during that first meeting. And he was so overwhelmed that of course he shut all the way down. The truth is it's not his fault he had amnesia, he's a victim. She's totally entitled to those feelings, and the anger at him and the situation and the universe, but in trying to get through to him the heightened emotion might have been a critical error, because he just wasn't receptive to listening to her after that. On the other hand, that's how their relationship has been from the start. She's emotional and spontaneous and fiery and he navigates it. So one might hope it would spark something that he would remember.

Same thing goes for the confrontation at his house. He was such a dick, and she broke my heart, but she was so overwrought that I don't think Serkan of a year ago, who has now been traumatized and manipulated, could handle it and it caused him to become the worst version of himself. Again I don't fault Eda, most of us would have collapsed due to the sheer weight of what she'd been through, but her approach, coming in hot, did fuel the situation and I can see how Serkan got to that emotional place.

At least they gave me one thing I asked for! The password. Serkan, maybe stop saying it's something you would never do, when you demonstrably did it. You bought her a star and then the coordinates were your password. At some point your brain needs to put two and two together here. But actually I want him to check and see that he really did name a star after her. Her stealthily leaving so she didn't have to give it to him, and thus not be able to change the password, was great.

As for the last scene, girlfriend was looking FIIIIINE when she walked in that restaurant and boyfriend was having to command himself to stop looking at her. The kiss was a big swing, but she had to try and I'm sure we all wanted to hug her when he malfunctioned and did a crazy thing out of sheer panic.

We, along with Eda, were put through the wringer this episode, but we survived and it can't get worse... okay nevermind, I'm not going to say that. Instead I'll just say, it WILL GET BETTER. There will be a reward for this pain. It's coming. We will see his awakening feelings in the next episode, I know it! Just hang on!

#Sen Çal Kapımı #Sen cal kapimi #edser #serkan bolat #eda yildiz #sckask #sck episode discussion #edser discussion #sck 1x29 #asklizac #anonymous #Anonymous

44 notes · View notes

scumbagsblog · 8 years ago

Photo

6) "Is there a reason you're naked in my bed?" (A/N: This one ran really fucking long but I'm proud of it so here you go anyway.) She'd only had Mark over to her place a few times. The first one or two were excruciatingly awkward, mostly because they'd only been talking for a couple of weeks, and they were still trying to figure out each other's social nuances. Mark, for his part, was extremely open to talk about whatever was on his mind, and he would happily go on for hours about things he was particularly passionate about. Amy, on the other hand, was a lot more reserved; it wasn't that she didn't want to talk about things for hours, she just felt she didn't have nearly as much to say. Sometimes this came off as standoffish or shy, which only made things harder--and Kathryn, for all her efforts to encourage the relationship by contributing to the conversation and bringing out snacks, was only making things more painful. At this point, Amy was beginning to wonder if this would work at all. Sure, she'd known Mark for months prior, but only ever as his editor. Apparently, transitioning into the girl that he was "talking to" (neither of them had yet worked up the nerve to define their relationship) wasn't as easy as they'd thought. She'd told Kathryn and Ethan as much, to which both of them had decided having the whole crew over for drinks and board games was exactly the springboard their relationship needed. Amy failed to understand how, but she figured it would be fun regardless of whether or not it worked, which is how she ended up sitting next to Mark on her sofa with a half-drunk mimosa in her hand while he enjoyed a can of Diet Coke over a particularly intense game of Heads Up. "They pop up out of the ground, Ethan!" Tyler was basically screaming. "They're long and skinny and they look like little cats!" "I...I don't--" Ethan laughed nervously. "They're in Lion King!" Amy intercepted. "You know the song, 'Dig a tunnel, dig dig a tunnel...'" "Oh, a meerkat?" "YES! JESUS CHRIST!" Tyler cried. "Next!" Mark was laughing--apparently while drinking, because he began to cough up a storm. Amy clapped him on the back in an effort to help. "Take another drink," she suggested. "It helps, trust me." He nodded, gulping more soda, and flashed her a smile. "Thanks. Never did learn how to drink and breathe at the same time." "You're not supposed to, you moron," she laughed. They looked at each other for a moment, and they simultaneously seemed to realize that Amy's hand was still on his back. She pulled it back, feeling a blush on her face. Kathryn was watching them intently. Amy flashed her a look of slight annoyance, to which Kathryn unsubtly flicked her eyes at Mark with an expression that said "what the hell are you waiting for?!" Amy shrugged helplessly, and Kathryn rolled her eyes. "Why don't we have Mark go next?" she suggested loudly. Mark looked up, blinking a few times. "But it's my turn--" Ethan protested. Kathryn snatched the phone away from him and grabbed Mark by the wrist, pulling him into the hot seat. "Yeah, but it's late and he hasn't gotten to go yet and YOU NEED TO LEAVE SOON, RIGHT?" she said pointedly to him without breaking eye contact. Amy wondered if anyone would notice if she crawled under the sofa. "Uh...yeah, okay," Ethan replied, withering under Kathryn's glare. He took Mark's former seat and happily accepted a swig of Amy's drink while Mark held the phone up to his forehead. The first animal up was a whale. Ethan did a marvelous impression of one that made everyone laugh. Next up was squirrels. "Oh, it's the animal you're king of!" Amy suggested. "Squirrels!" he said immediately, flipping the phone up. "I didn't know you'd seen that video!" "Yeah, I watched a lot of them when I first started editing for you," she replied, and she was surprised to see how flattered Mark looked. The game continued without further incident. Shortly after Heads Up and a round of Sorry! that Ethan won (based on pure bullshit, according to Mark), Tyler and Ethan both got up to go. "Oh! But we're still on for the zoo this Friday, right?" Amy asked Ethan, who nodded with a smile. "Yup. Wear your tiger hoodie. I'll wear mine, okay?" he requested. Amy laughed. "Duh. What else did we buy them for?" Mark grabbed his keys and wallet off the table, standing up himself. "Yeah, I think I'll head out myself," he said. Amy looked up sharply, her smile fading. "Oh! Um, okay, sounds good," she said, trying to hide her disappointment. She deliberately ignored Kathryn's stare while she hugged him briefly and he stepped out after the other guys. --------------- Mark jogged a little to catch up with Tyler. "What else are you guys doing tonight? Wanna see if Cracker Barrel's still open?" Tyler whirled 180 degrees and stared at Mark confusedly, making him stop in his tracks. "What the hell are you doing out here?" Mark stared at him open-mouthed. "Uh...going home?" "What is wrong with you?!" Ethan cried, jogging up the steps leading out of Amy's apartment complex. Mark frowned. "Well fuck, I didn't realize you all didn't want to see me that badly." "You can't go home yet!" Tyler insisted. "We all came over tonight so that you and Amy could spend time together!" "Wait, THAT'S why you invited me out tonight?" Mark asked incredulously. "What makes you think I need your help getting Amy to like me?" "Because you're standing out in the hallway like a dumbass instead of brewing her coffee and finding a movie to watch like a GOOD date?" Ethan shot back. Mark was about to shoot back just what he thought of a 20-year-old beanpole telling him he was a bad date, but Tyler grabbed his shoulder and steered him back around to the door before he could. "Look, the longer you wait to do something more than just make jokes with her and chicken out of flirting, the more she's going to think you don't like her," he advised, marching him back to the door. "You need to do something drastic, and NOW, because she's already been talking to Kathryn and me about how she doesn't think you're interested in her." "Wait, really?" Mark demanded, a good deal more worried than he was a minute ago. "Then what do I do?" "I don't know, you're a smart guy! Well, soft of. Just make it good. I'll see you tomorrow morning." And with that, he opened the door and shoved Mark back inside. --------- Kathryn looked up from putting cups in the dishwasher to see Mark standing in the living room again, looking dazed and confused. "Uh...welcome back?" she called out. He turned to her and reddened, running the back of his neck sheepishly. "Hey...do you know where Amy went?" he asked. "I need to...talk to her, I guess." Kathryn's lips pursed. The poor boy was hopeless. She'd be willing to bet her left boob that Tyler had bullied him back in here. "She's taking a shower," she answered, which was true. "You can wait for her in her room." Mark's eyes widened. "Her room? But she's never taken me in there before--" "She won't mind, Mark. Just go." After a moment of hesitation, he nodded and turned to go. Kathryn watched him sharply. God, hopefully THAT would ignite something. She shook her head and went back to loading the dishwasher. Mark and Amy were just lucky that they had her and the other guys, because Lord knew they'd never be able to do this themselves. ---------- Mark let himself into Amy's room anxiously. She wasn't in here, but he could hear the shower going in the next room. He sat on the bed, tapping his feet reflexively. He had no idea what he was going to say when she came out. "Hey, just thought I'd drop into your bedroom and say goodbye one last time?" No, that was idiotic. "Listen, I know it's been rough these past few days, but I really do like you and I want this to work?" Too direct; he didn't want to seem too serious. She said she'd liked him because of his "bombastic personality", a compliment he'd been turning over in his head ever since. How was he supposed to capitalize on that? Well, if he knew Amy like he thought he did (which wasn't exactly perfect, to be fair, but he thought he knew her well enough), then the fact that he liked his cockiness and off-key sense of humor meant that he needed to do something really stupid in order to win her over. In the distance, he heard someone turning off the shower head and knew he didn't have much time. Without letting himself think about it anymore, Mark jumped up and unbuttoned his jeans. --------- Amy stared at herself in the mirror, arranging her towel into a turban that sat high atop her head. She wiped the last of her makeup from her face and brushed her teeth, letting the toothpaste dribble down her chin while her thoughts ran wild in her head. Was she doing something wrong? Was she too boring, too awkward, too serious? She'd never really considered herself to be a "mature adult", especially not in this stage of her life, when her mother would have preferred her to be engaged with a nursery under construction rather than living with a fellow single woman in an apartment without doors, working for a man who made a living screaming at video games. Had she made some fatal error along the way that had messed up her life? She'd always been confident in her life choices, unusual though they were, but lately... Shaking off her doubts, Amy stepped into her pajamas and walked out of the bathroom, ready to flop into bed with a good book. She flicked on the overhead light and hadn't even taken a good look around when she heard: "Oh good, you're back. I've been waiting for you." She looked down and made eye contact with a man's bare thigh...and then some. Way more than what she'd bargained for, and a helluva lot more than she'd expected to see that night in particular. Her eyes flicked up to Mark's shit-eating grin, and she yelped and covered her eyes, backing up into the doorframe and knocking her head against it loudly. "FUCK! IS THERE A REASON YOU'RE NAKED IN MY BED?!" she couldn't help screaming. "Wait, what, I--hold on--" Amy opened her eyes again, just in time to see Mark rolled over and reaching for the floor, his ass high in the air for the world to see. She jerked to one side to look away and managed to hit her head again--this time it was her nose on the bookshelf by the door--and she cried out in pain. "Oh God, are you hurt?" Mark asked. Amy could hear him coming closer. "I'm fine, I'm fine, get dressed!" she cried in distress, even though she could feel her nose beginning to bleed. "Okay, okay!" There were more thuds and grunts of exertion as she assumed Mark was pulling his pants back on, as well as mutterings to himself about being an idiot, something she couldn't bring herself to disagree with at the moment. She squeezed her eyes shut and tilted her head back, pinching her nostrils and praying for God to smite her right then and there. "I'm dressed, you can loo--oh, you really are hurt, fuck Amy why didn't you tell me?!" She felt him take her by the arm and lead her to the bed, sitting her down and pushing a tissue box into her lap. "God dammit, I'm so sorry, I don't know why I thought you'd think that was funny...." "N-no, it's okay," she assured him, hazarding to open her eyes and seeing that he'd caged the beast in a pair of jeans. He hadn't put his shirt on yet, but she decided she could deal with this for now. "I was just surprised, that's all." "Yeah, but it was still dumb. I didn't mean for you to hit your head. Keep tilting your head back." Gently, he lifted her chin and held the back of her head in the palm of his hand while Amy kept a tissue pressed to her face. "Is it broken?" "I doubt it," she replied, sounding stuffy. "I just bruised it, probably. I'm too clumsy for my own good." "Shut up, it's not your fault. If I hadn't been an idiot, this wouldn't have happened." Mark sounded surprisingly angry with himself, so Amy tried to give him a smile. "You're not an idiot, Mark. At least, no more than I already thought you were." He smiled back. "Your opinion of me was already this low?" he joked, and she laughed. "Oh, good, at least I'm funny. There's hope for me yet." Amy eventually lowered her head and let Mark throw away the bloody tissue. She sat embarrassedly with her hands folded in her lap, and when Mark turned around she couldn't quite bring himself to look him in the eyes. "I like your pajamas," he offered awkwardly. Amy giggled at her alien-themed nightgown. "Thanks. I've had it for years." She was quiet for another moment before saying, "You can sit down, you know." After another moment's hesitation, Mark lowered himself onto the bed a healthy distance away from her. "Listen, Amy, I really am sorry," he said sincerely, and Amy went to tell him he was okay, but he plowed on, "I just thought I needed to try something crazy to get you to laugh or be flirty or--or something else, I don't know, Tyler just told me to do something drastic before you got bored with me--" "Wait, this was based on TYLER'S advice?" Amy interjected, unable to keep from laughing. "Come on, Mark, Tyler doesn't know anything about girls." "Yeah, I know, and I'm gonna punch him tomorrow for getting me into this shitty situation." "Did he TELL you to greet me naked on my bed?" "No, uh...that was kind of my idea," he mumbled, making her laugh more. "Why did you think I would get bored with you?" she pressed, scooting closer. Mark was staring sheepishly at the floor and wouldn't look up, so she put her hand on his arm. "If anything I was afraid you were bored with me." "Really?" he said, sounding shocked. "But I love being around you. That's why I hired you on in the first place. That's why I'm here now. I'm just worried that I...I don't know, that you're not interested in me as anything more than a friend or something, and that if I didn't do something super forward you'd just give up." "No, Mark, you don't need to greet me buck-ass-naked to make me like you," she laughed, making him smile. "I ALREADY like you. I'm just not...I guess I'm not as forward as you." "Yeah, clearly fucking not," he said dryly, gesturing to himself as if to reiterate what he'd just done. "So...what do we do?" Amy shrugged. "I dunno. I never know. I guess maybe we could...try going on an actual date or something, instead of sitting around in my apartment." "Yeah, that could work," Mark said thoughtfully. "Where would you wanna go?" "No clue. I'm kinda hungry. Where do you like to eat?" "Do you like Cracker Barrel?" Amy grinned. "Yeah, I could go for some eggs. You wanna go now?" She stood up, and Mark chuckled at her. "Yeah, sure, but not before we both get dressed." ---------- Mark and Amy passed the kitchen hand-in-hand, where Kathryn stood reloading the dishwasher. She looked up at them and raised an eyebrow. "Are you two okay? I heard screaming." "You heard screaming and didn't come to check on us?" Amy asked incredulously. Kathryn shrugged. "I heard something about Mark being naked, so I decided to let you two work it out amongst yourselves." Mark burst into laughter while Amy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, we're good. I'll be gone for a bit, don't wait up for me." Kathryn grinned lecherously behind Mark's back. Amy stuck her tongue out at her on her way out the door. Kathryn practically rubbed her hands together with glee. Finally, some progress! She pulled her phone out of her pocket to text Ethan. No more requests for now please, I've got plenty and I'm about to go to work!

#Amyplier #fic #my fic #prompt #submission #funny #fluff #crack #cute

55 notes · View notes

cynthiajayusa · 7 years ago

Text

Sandra Bernhard Still Has Her Blunt AF Opinions

Before unloading her candid thoughts on TV co-star Roseanne Barr’s alt-right politics and fellow comic Kathy Griffin’s viral Trump-beheading pic (“It just wasn’t funny”), Sandra Bernhard proclaims herself, quite aptly, to be “no-nonsense.” That has been, after all, her way since the ’70s, when lambasting Hollywood’s who’s-who first became a calling card for the fearless comedian, actress, and musician.

Then, from 1991 to 1997, she famously put a face to bisexuality not just as herself — Bernhard was out from the get-go — but also as Nancy Bartlett on ABC’s hit sitcom Roseanne. Introduced in Season Four as the estranged lesbian wife of Arnie Thomas (Tom Arnold), Nancy, who later came out as bisexual, gets chummy with Roseanne Conner and Roseanne’s younger sister, Jackie Harris (Laurie Metcalf).

Bernhard, 62, will revisit her groundbreaking character during the show’s revival. As for the controversy regarding Roseanne and her TV alter ego’s support for President Trump? “Roseanne is gonna be another round of really fun and really smart television,” Bernhard tells me. “Roseanne has never turned on the gay community. Roseanne likes to stir the pot. She always has. So, I guess that’s the way she’s doing it now, and I don’t agree with any of the Trump shit, but I think she’ll transcend that, and the show will still be amazing.”

What can we expect politically from the Roseanne reboot?

I think they’re gonna do a deep dive into where the working class is at right now. I mean, maybe not as deep as you would need, considering that half of the working class who don’t have their industrial-ass jobs anymore are strung out on opioids. That’s not very much fun; I don’t think they’ll go there. [Laughs.] But I think we’re in a real crossroads in this country, and Roseanne has always been good at revealing that — and at the same time making it funny and moving and insightful. I’m only in the last episode, so I don’t know exactly how they’re approaching it. I know there will be very personal stories like there always were, as opposed to globalizing it. I think that’s what makes the show special.

I imagine you’ve been hearing about the backlash Roseanne’s politics have ignited since the reboot was announced.

I was hearing about that way before they announced the reboot, and I just dropped out of the conversation because I don’t want to get into that on Twitter. You can’t do that; it goes nowhere. And everybody who makes political decisions also has to live with the fallout. That goes for famous, successful people and for people on the street. If you voted for Trump and you thought it was gonna be a lark and funny, the results are right there in front of you every day.

youtube

My hope is that it might bridge some severe societal gaps, perhaps open some minds, maybe even my own. But it’s been very difficult for people who didn’t vote for Trump to even begin to understand or empathize with someone who supported him.

I don’t have any empathy for people who voted for him. Honestly, I really don’t. It’s obvious that he didn’t know anything about the working-class population; he just exploited it, and [his supporters] were naive and unwilling to read or to know what was really going on. He played them — and to a certain extent, the few people who are still in his corner. He still plays them. So it’s just kind of a bummer.

A lot of people have strong opinions about the liberal-minded cast returning to a show led by a Trump supporter.

I’m glad they do. She should hear it. And it’s better for her to hear it from the people that have supported her and watched her show than it is from me. I mean, we’re friends, we’re friendly, and I’ll continue to do the show. But it gets underneath your skin when 20 million people who used to watch your show are like, “What the f*ck?”

She seems to know how people feel about her politics. At the Golden Globes, presenting with co-star John Goodman, she said, “I’m kind of known for creating some great drama.”

Of course she knows.

WATCH:

youtube

Well, I’m excited to have Nancy Bartlett back. You told me in 2013 that you didn’t think Nancy would have a place on the show if it ever returned.

It’s not that she didn’t have a place. But I didn’t think they’d be able to fit her story back in because of all the new characters, and the family, and reestablishing what’s been going on politically. So, when they added the extra episode and wrote me in, I was thrilled.

Nancy was one of the earliest portrayals of bisexuality on TV. What surprised you most about how her sexuality was treated on the show in the ’90s?

I mean, she was fun, and it was a fun concept that she ran from being married to Tom Arnold into the relationship with Morgan Fairchild. It was sort of a lark at first, and of course it evolved. They wouldn’t let me kiss Morgan Fairchild under the mistletoe — we had to cut the kiss — so that’s how far we’ve come in terms of what you see sexually on TV.

But yeah, she was a funny, kooky, free-spirited character who got to do things and say things that were part of the evolution of sexuality on TV. It wasn’t intentional — it wasn’t like we were trying to do something groundbreaking. But that is how Roseanne is and was. She just did things that felt organic and authentic. She ended up having the actual kiss with Merle Hemingway [at a gay bar that Nancy took her to]. But nonetheless, Nancy’s fun, and if they picked up the show again, they’ll expand her story.

We’ll get more Nancy if there’s another season?

Oh yeah, absolutely. For sure, yeah.

Roseanne will have a genderfluid grandson, Mark, played by newcomer Ames McNamara, on the show as well.

Yes.

What are your thoughts on the show continuing to be inclusive?

I just think there has to be a little bit of everything in all the shows now, and I don’t know. I’ve gotta see the show before I can comment. He’s in my episode, but to the extent of what they’re trying to do with that character, we’ll have to see.

Speaking more generally, how do you feel about representation as far as LGBTQ people go on TV?

It’s certainly gotten a helluva lot better than when Nancy first came on the scene. And I think with each year that goes by, especially with the advent of Hulu and Netflix and Amazon, there’s been major breakthroughs.

Are you currently enjoying any shows with LGBTQ characters?

I watch 9-1-1 just because I think it’s a ridiculous show. Everywhere you turn there’s new, interesting gay characters. But I don’t go to a show for that. For me, my life has never been informed by that. I’ve always been comfortable with who I am sexually. I’ve been sexually fluid, I’ve broken all the ground rules since I was 17 years old. So, I’ve never had any need for somebody to be my role model. I’ve been my own role model. So, it’s a non-issue. But I think for the public at large it’s been a great time and a revolutionary time for people to see all kinds of characters — racially, sexually, women, men — come to life in a new way.

Have you heard of the very gay-centric Schitt’s Creek?

Honey, I was one of the first people to be hip to it!

Oh, snap.

[Laughs.] I know, yes. But yeah, of course. Love it. Dan Levy is terrific — super funny and smart.

What can we expect from you in the future?

I’ve got three scripted projects I’m trying to get off the ground right now, so that’s a lot of my focus, and it’s a lot of hard work. So, I’m chipping away at that and, of course, continuing to go up for roles as an actress and do my live performing.

What kind of scripts are you working on?

They’re all comedic. One is based on my early years in L.A., when I started off as a manicurist. One is a project with [performance artist] Justin Vivian Bond. We wrote a musical about six years ago called Arts & Crafts, and we’re trying to make it into a TV series.

I remember you telling me you’d never stoop so low to do a reality show. Still out of the question?

Yeah, listen, if I haven’t done it by now, I’m certainly not gonna do it at this late date.

How do you feel about the way comedy has addressed the Trump era?

Everybody’s speaking about it and being funny and creative about it. And, obviously, people like Bill Maher and those types do it in a more political way. I think it’s been really interesting.

Has your recent comedy reflected current politics?

Sort of, kind of through the back door. I don’t hit people over the head talking about that stuff because so many people are good at doing it verbatim, so I try to keep it more global than just obvious.

Did you think Kathy Griffin went too far with the picture of her holding Trump’s decapitated head?

It’s not about going too far — it just wasn’t funny. And she’s not political. Why is she suddenly jumping on the bandwagon? That’s not what she does. And it wasn’t smart enough or interesting enough. That was the biggest crime.

But Kathy Griffin has been politically engaged and an activist for the gay community.

She’s an activist? I don’t know. I don’t think she’s an activist, frankly. I mean, that’s — she certainly takes advantage of the gay population in her own way, but I don’t think she’s done anything earth shattering for… I mean, I don’t agree.

Who would you consider an entertainer and an activist?

I mean, I’m an activist for being a human being. There’s bigger fish to fry, and my work is inherently political, and it’s been inherently LGBTQ-informed because it’s who I am; it’s what I’ve done from the beginning. I don’t call my audience “my gays.” My audience is my audience, and everybody in it forms an alliance every night. You perform for the entire crowd — it’s not about singling anyone out. And if your work is very, very daring and interesting, then smart people come to it, whether they’re gay, straight, black, white, men, women. I mean, you gotta be able to get underneath what’s really going on culturally, and then you’re always gonna have a smart audience sitting in front of you.

Who else in the comedy world can really dig into the cultural zeitgeist?

I don’t have a litany of people I’m sitting here thinking about. I’m sorry. It’s, like, too hard to do that. Right now the people who are impressing me the most are all these kids from the school in Florida. They’re activists. Went through a terrible trauma, and they’ve been able to transform it into total activation, and that to me is really impressive and exciting. To talk about entertainers and people — it’s easy for all of us to do all that stuff because we’re not under duress. But when you’ve been practically severely injured or murdered [and you speak out about it], yeah, that’s something to really applaud and stand by.

source https://hotspotsmagazine.com/2018/04/26/sandra-bernhard-still-has-her-blunt-af-opinions/ from Hot Spots Magazine https://hotspotsmagazin.blogspot.com/2018/04/sandra-bernhard-still-has-her-blunt-af.html

0 notes

demitgibbs · 7 years ago

Text

Sandra Bernhard Still Has Her Blunt AF Opinions

What can we expect politically from the Roseanne reboot?

I imagine you’ve been hearing about the backlash Roseanne’s politics have ignited since the reboot was announced.

youtube

A lot of people have strong opinions about the liberal-minded cast returning to a show led by a Trump supporter.

She seems to know how people feel about her politics. At the Golden Globes, presenting with co-star John Goodman, she said, “I’m kind of known for creating some great drama.”

Of course she knows.

WATCH:

youtube

Well, I’m excited to have Nancy Bartlett back. You told me in 2013 that you didn’t think Nancy would have a place on the show if it ever returned.

Nancy was one of the earliest portrayals of bisexuality on TV. What surprised you most about how her sexuality was treated on the show in the ’90s?

We’ll get more Nancy if there’s another season?

Oh yeah, absolutely. For sure, yeah.

Roseanne will have a genderfluid grandson, Mark, played by newcomer Ames McNamara, on the show as well.

Yes.

What are your thoughts on the show continuing to be inclusive?

Speaking more generally, how do you feel about representation as far as LGBTQ people go on TV?

Are you currently enjoying any shows with LGBTQ characters?

Have you heard of the very gay-centric Schitt’s Creek?

Honey, I was one of the first people to be hip to it!

Oh, snap.

[Laughs.] I know, yes. But yeah, of course. Love it. Dan Levy is terrific — super funny and smart.

What can we expect from you in the future?

What kind of scripts are you working on?

I remember you telling me you’d never stoop so low to do a reality show. Still out of the question?

Yeah, listen, if I haven’t done it by now, I’m certainly not gonna do it at this late date.

How do you feel about the way comedy has addressed the Trump era?

Everybody’s speaking about it and being funny and creative about it. And, obviously, people like Bill Maher and those types do it in a more political way. I think it’s been really interesting.

Has your recent comedy reflected current politics?

Did you think Kathy Griffin went too far with the picture of her holding Trump’s decapitated head?

But Kathy Griffin has been politically engaged and an activist for the gay community.

Who would you consider an entertainer and an activist?

Who else in the comedy world can really dig into the cultural zeitgeist?

from Hotspots! Magazine https://hotspotsmagazine.com/2018/04/26/sandra-bernhard-still-has-her-blunt-af-opinions/ from Hot Spots Magazine https://hotspotsmagazine.tumblr.com/post/173324824080

0 notes

mystorymylifemywords · 7 years ago

Text

In His....

In His Head

What am I doing here? I don’t belong here. Why did I even get out of bed, put on this suit, and get into this car? This is a waste of time. She doesn’t give a good gotdamn about me, but my ass is sitting outside this church like a stooge to be a witness of something I shouldn’t be seeing.

She was a crush, that's all. A life-long crush, but nothing else. She likes to call herself a "friend," but she's nothing but an acquaintance. She usually doesn’t give me the time of day, but I jumped at the chance to come to her wedding despite not wanting her to be happy. Damn, that sounds contradictory. How can she not give me the time of day and still find it within herself to invite me to her wedding? What the hell am I doing here?

I'm so in my head, right now. Look at all these people. They're smiling and happy for the couple and their forthcoming nuptials. I'm trying not to show the pettiness I feel in my heart, thank God for sunglasses. I know my eyes and facial expressions would be snitching on me.

I'm here for her and only her. I don't know what's so special about this dude. What does he have that I don't have? Shit, that's a question I've asked myself my entire life. I've always come second to my friends when it comes to women. I've always been the other dude. Women have always looked at my boys and been like, "What up, though!?" while looking over at me and quietly saying "Hi...." as if saying it too loud would attract a shocked reaction from the surrounding masses. They would never say my name, either. They probably didn't know it. I was the nameless, faceless friend whom women tried to avoid or discretely acknowledge, like a homeless man panhandling for money. I used to beat myself over that shit, I guess I'm still doing it.

Alright, where am I going to sit and why don't I see anyone I know? Is this some kind of joke? I'm always thinking someone is trying to play me. This girl always has so many people trying to be around her, you would think this place would be flooded with “her people,” but the turnout seems intimate. There's no way she meant to invite me. This had to be a mistake. Everyone here looks like family or people who have grown up with him or her. None of her partners from school are here, well, I see couple of her line sisters. The only reason why I noticed them is from the pictures she's always posting on social media. Her social media presence annoys the shit out of me. She can say the most benign thing on social media and people who want her attention will "like" it just for an off chance that she engages them in a marginalized conversation. Hell, I must not be any better than them. I showed up at this wedding with my inner conscience believing I'm going to have a Dwayne Wayne moment. “Please, baby! Please!” Ha! I'm so lame. I'm comparing my life to an early 90s sitcom. She's no Whitley, though. Jasmine Guy would probably say that's a good thing. A Southern Belle she is not, but she sure does have her ego. For all that, I'm no Dwayne. He had a cool, nerdy, calm confidence about him. I’m just awkward and shy, expect when it comes to video games and obscure literary and hip-hop figures. Those are the only times I come out of my shell. I still think Pharoahe Monch is the most underrated hip-hop artist of all-time. He takes a little Melle Mel, a little Rakim, a little

Grandmaster Kaz, and a lot of his own flavor to create lyrics that are existentially mind-blowing. Dude said, “Lights flash, if I could only put the past on a flash drive...For peace of mind, install an external drive…So I’d be more driven internally to survive.” That shit’s talking to me, right now, son. I wish I could download my past and put it on some other shit so I can do some other shit because this shit right here is some bullshit.

What was I thinking about, again?

Oh, yeah, this damn girl and this inevitable wedding….

The longest conversation we've had was right after I broke up with Jessica. No lie, I honestly believed she only reached out to make herself feel better. I don’t even know how she found out about the split. I didn’t say shit to her, but she slid into my DMs asking if I was okay, if I wanted to talk, and gave me her number. Instead of resisting, I gave in and made myself feel foolish for even thinking I was anything more than a boost to her self-confidence and self-esteem. I was her charity case and she decided, after 20 plus years, to throw me a bone. She texted me a few times over a couple weeks to see how I was doing, but I still looked at those messages as pity. She would never engage when I responded. It was like a chore to her and a fucked-up way to treat a person.

Aside from that call, I’ve texted her to see how she’s doing, just attempting to be a decent human being while giving her a chance to save face. The messages were typically met with deafening silence. I had to delete her digits. I can’t deal with flaky people. No one deserves to be ignored. It’s just rude. Like, if you don’t want to talk to someone, be straight with them, and tell them! When she did respond, she had the temerity to passive aggressively say we are only friends and only going to be friends. Don’t use a roundabout way of saying you aren’t interested! I’ve known you weren’t interested since we met in high school! Why the hell would things be any different, now?! Nothing I’ve said to her showed anything aside friendship. I never said, “Hey, sweetheart! I’ve been thinking about you all day. I’m going to come scoop you so we can chill,” or asked her to send me suggestive pictures or attempted to engage in any conversation that even alluded to anything more than friendship. On top of that, you don’t respond to my fucking texts, so how can I get your ear for you to even think I want anything else? She must think, since she’s so attractive, everyone wants her. Yes, she’s very pretty girl, but fuck man! A nigga is simply trying to make conversation, that’s all! All of this brings up my fear of rejection. Going any further with her would simply do myself more harm and she invites me to this dog and pony show, but for what reason? I don’t think she knows the meaning of friendship. If she did, she wouldn’t use it to describe whatever this thing is we have between each other. I hope this dude knows what he has coming. All of this happened well before she allegedly met him. I’m not the one to step on toes, so I always ask if the women whom appear to want to converse are talking to someone. Maybe she took that as me seeing if the coast was clear to holla. That’s some simple Simon assumptions, shit…

I gotta breathe, man….

I’m running a full dialogue in my head and jump from telling a story to myself to screaming on her. I need to calm down. Seriously, why am I so angry? I mean, really? Why am I pissed? Did she do anything to physically hurt me? Nope. Has my life moved on without her? Yup. Hell, I have a lady of my own, but I’m up here thinking about his girl like she’s some goddess, like she’s Aphrodite from around the way and we’re in this holy place to praise Hymen while my mind is being controlled by Pothos and Eris. I need to get a grip. Plus, I know good in hell well that I would never scream on her like I do in head. It’s just so damn frustrating when you don’t understand a person’s actions.

The ceremony is about to begin and I don't want dude to show up. I don't even know the guy, but I don't like him. Jealously is a helluva drug. It makes you think irrational things like all that stuff that got me all riled up a few minutes ago. He's probably a nice fella with a good family and whatnot, but he's going to get what I've wanted for years. What did he do to get her? Was it his confidence? His job? His personality? Was is something shallow like his looks, the size of his Johnson, or his money? I wouldn't put it past her. She’s always had a type. It was always some guy from the other side of the tracks, a "bad boy." Those dudes were a joke. I wonder how many of them stayed out of the system? She was their arm candy, nothing more. They paraded her around like a trophy and always kept her pockets padded. She was only around them as payback to her father for being too controlling over her life. He’s a hardworking man, and from what I’ve seen and heard, only wants the best for her and loves her, a lot. You usually hear about these things when the father is absent, but he was always at the school functions and is still married to her mother. It’s probably single-child syndrome, but I’m not close enough to her family to know the real story. When you go behind the curtain, you see a lot of skeletons.

Man, I know way too much. If the people in these church pews knew what I know, they would think I was stalking her, but when you want attention, people start to talk, and your business becomes everyone's business. She was always fueled by attention while we were in school. That's probably something that plagues the prettiest girls in all the schools across the globe who are also only-children. It's like a superiority complex. "I'm attractive and don’t have any siblings, so you should give me your attention when I want it." When she's done with you or she bores of your conversation/company, she discards you like old rubbish. You dance to her drum or you don't dance at all. She lives in a solipsistic world and my dumb ass still wants a part of it. Knowing me, I probably think I can fix her.

Here she comes. Her Pops is smiling from ear to ear and she looks breathtaking. I need to leave. I don’t want to watch this and I haven’t felt comfortable since I woke up. My stomach is in knots. You would think I’m the one jumping the broom. I suppose this ceremony is the end of any possibilities of a future with her and she wanted me to witness the demise of something that never existed. Damn, just damn! I’m extra as hell. People aren’t that conniving; at least I don’t think they’re that evil. I can’t leave, though. If I leave, now, people will turn and look to see who was so insolent to walk out in the middle of a wedding. I’m a no-name, though. People will forget I’m even here even if I stay. I’m certain she won’t give damn. She didn’t want me here from the start.

I’m out….

In His Car

I'm glad I got out there. I couldn't take seeing that shit. It was breaking my heart seeing her smile because I didn't cause it. I know that's selfish as fuck, but when you see your dream girl walking down the aisle and she isn't walking toward you, it fucks with your head. Shit, I don't think I've ever made her smile. It's whatever. I know I'm going to hear from her. I didn't do such a good job of leaving without being noticed. I know I said it wouldn't matter, but the attention shouldn't have been on me. People were whispering and everything as I got up. I hope I didn't cause some sort of scandal and ruin her day. I don't care if I ever talk to her again. She doesn't give a shit about me. I'm her charity. We did make eye contact as I was leaving, though. Fuck man! I'm all over the place with my emotions. I don't know what I want. Do I want her to care, or don't I? I should've stayed my ass at home....

Now I'm back in my car and I need to figure out what I'm going to do now. I mean, aside from feeling like I shouldn't be at this wedding, I shouldn’t be in this area, period. I lied to my girl on the off chance something dramatic would happen and my fantasy would come true. She thinks I'm in Chicago for business. She doesn't pay too much attention to what I'm doing, though. Seriously, who drives from Philly to Chicago? I know I don't like planes and airports, but only a fool would make that drive, especially in his own car. It's sort of funny, too, that she would believe that story. She has ridiculous trust issues. That's the story of my life. I'm always falling for the girl with trust or daddy issues. It's bullshit, man! It's not my fault your father called you names and hurt your feelings when you were younger. It's not my fault he ran out on you and your mother because he didn't know how to handle his responsibilities. It's not my fault that dudes have cheated on you and put you down. Your past isn't my fault, but all those girls felt it necessary to take it out on me. I've never cheated on someone. I've come close a couple times, but my conscience is too strong and I'm too big of a believer in karma. What goes around comes around. I'm afraid I'm going to slip my dick in something and I catch something that can’t be cured, regardless of if I'm strapped up.

I shouldn't stress about lying to her. She's been lying to me for months and I just let it go. They aren't even good lies, either. They're the type of lies to you tell when you're not even trying to lie, you just don't want to tell the truth. You know, those lies you would tell your mom when you had silverware or dishes in your room. You couldn’t give a shit, but telling the truth would take way more effort.

Where the hell is my GPS? Aww, damn! This shit slipped under the passenger seat! Argh! That’s what I get for putting it behind the seat like a lazy ass and not disconnecting it and putting it in the glove box. I don’t feel like getting out of car so now I need to do that uncomfortable lean and reach to grab it from under the seat cavity. Each time I do it, I feel like my shoulder is going to pop out of the socket. My shit is mad sore, afterwards. I remember dropping a condom wrapper back there when I first bought the car. My ex and I were breaking in the leather and I just threw the wrapper on the floor. Unbeknownst to me, an air conditioner vent is under the seat. When I turned on the air a few days later, I heard something rattling and it was the wrapper….

I wonder how many people these long dialogues with themselves in their head. I’m going on and on to myself, about myself. I hope this normal. It’s one of those things you don’t want to talk about because you don’t want other people to think you’re crazy. It’s like asking someone about how they shower or bathe. Once you find out someone’s technique, you won’t look at them the same. I remember in elementary school, one of my friends said he sticks a bar of soap up his butt to kick it clean. That sounds very questionable, right now. Ha!

Now what story was I telling myself before the thing got lost under the jawn? Oh, yeah, my lying ass other half….

She's always working, always. No matter what time of day, she's working. I'm not knocking her hustle, she should get her bread, but no one works all day and all night. She has this rule that she won't respond to my texts from 8-4. I don't want to get in the way of her work, so I respect her wishes. Here's the thing, she has two phones, a work phone and a personal. The work phone is a Blackberry. Who the hell still uses Blackberrys? What kind of cheap ass company still gives their employees obsolete technology? Her personal is an iPhone, so they have two distinct tones when texts are received. I should know because I had the same Blackberry, 3 years ago, and I currently have an iPhone. So, I took a random day off from work and she decided, unbeknownst to me, to work from home. She wanted to act surprised when I didn't leave the house. It's my house, witch! I'll do what I want! I don't need to explain why I took off from work. I'm a grown ass man who pays all the bills, even some of yours. Don't give me the side eye because I'm living my life in my own space. You could take your ass to your place, but as you say, "You have faster wifi and a more comfortable environment." Yeah, whatever. Anyway, tell me why that iPhone was going off, again and again and again!? I didn't realize which phone was going off for a few minutes, but it kept happening. I turned, looked at her, and gave her the "what the fuck" face. She just smiled at me, sheepishly. Yeah, you got caught doing dirt. That fucking phone goes off early in the morning, too. If you're in bed with me, who the hell is texting you? Don't text another dude in my bed, nigga. I need to catch her. I had the idea of doing some Michael Weston, Burn Notice shit. I wanted to take her fingerprint off a glass with a piece of Scotch tape and then putting it over her phone when she gets up to go to the bathroom. The wild part, she takes that phone everywhere! Even in the middle of the night, she takes the phone with her. I know she's doing dirt because why would you need to your personal phone on you all the time, in the place that you call comfortable, but not your work phone? The work phone should be more important because you don’t want to miss an email or phone call. I swear a heard the camera go off while she was in the bathroom. Light sleepers hear everything. This nigga was texting her pussy on my toilet and using my light. I should’ve dropped her ass right then and there, but I didn’t have physical proof. I’m a paranoid type of dude. I can’t let my paranoia win the day and unnecessarily cost me. I guess that’s why I stay with her. I fear myself….

I better not sit in this car for too long. That service going to let out, soon. I don't want people coming over here and staring at me. I just don't have the energy to drive to the hotel. I don't get how this day was so draining. That’s a lie. I do know why with my sensitive ass. I became too emotionally invested in something that was merely a pipe dream. I do that shit too much. I try to see the positive, see the possibilities, but reality gives me a knife-edged chop like Ric Flair, and then gives me a long, exaggerated, wide-eyed "Woooo!" Reality is constantly styling and

profiling on me. I wish I could do the same thing, but my proverbial limousine is stuck in park and covered in bird shit. I need to stop feeling sorry for myself. I'm annoying myself with my pity party.

I love how my thoughts get me off topic. My conscience has ADHD. Ha! What was I thinking about? Oh, yeah, my "girlfriend." Ha! Even in my head I don’t say her name! That’s how I refer to her when people ask. I call her “the girlfriend.” I use air quotes and everything. That’s kind of disrespectful, but her crocodilian ass earned it.

I should’ve left her ass when Karlos was killed in a car accident while on his way to visit me for a weekend. He was making the drive from our parents’ home and lost control of his car when he hit a patch of black ice on I-95 South, just outside of Philly. He never wore his seat belt, so he was thrown from the car, and shattered his neck and the base of his skull on impact. To say I was devastated would be an understatement. I think I cried for 2 weeks, but I was alone. She was traveling for work, but couldn't make time for me because she didn't know what to do. What kind of lame ass accuse is that? You're too busy fucking one of your co-workers, or whomever is texting you at 6am, to show any type of common human decency? Come on, now! What kind of person are you? I blocked that shit out, though. During that whole ordeal was when I came closest to cheating on her.

At the funeral, I reconnected with Kenya, an old friend from high school. People were asking me about Keyna….

Yeah, I said her name in my conscience, but it’s probably because after what happened, I was afraid of calling Keyna, Kenya, and ending up like John Wayne Bobbit. Now that I think about it, Dad messed up one day and called one of Los’ girls by the wrong name. He called Cristina, Kristin. It would’ve been cool if Los didn’t date Kristin before Cristina came around. On top of that, there was Crystal, Crystal, Krystal, and Christina. Dad was always as nervous as a hooker in church when different girls would come through. He never was good with names, but luckily, she didn’t hear any of those conversations, so I didn’t have to share that I had a girlfriend. Also, you would think your significant other would show up to the funeral of her boyfriend’s sibling, but she just a selfish person. Shit, I should’ve dropped her ass after she said she wasn’t coming.

It’s crazy how emotions get out of kilter when something tragic happens. My brother just fucking died and for some reason, I needed to get my dick wet to get over it. Yeah, that's weird as hell, but men hold their emotions in certain ways. I guess I just wanted to be touched and held. I wanted someone to be there for me since my so-called girlfriend was too busy getting her hairy bush waxed by Keith or Cali or Brandon or Tim. I guess it was the moment when time, space, and opportunity met. I’m glad that moment happened. It was a real-life fantasy played out in front me. I’ll never forget it.

I shouldn’t call her an old friend. Friend isn't the correct word to use to describe her. We weren't friends in high school. We were barely acquaintances. Hell, when I found out who she was related to, I was surprised because I never made the connection. I was friendlier with her sister whom I didn't know was her sister. Honest to goodness, they didn't look alike, to me. One was cinnamon complexion with dark brown hair and kind of slim, while she was the color of almond milk, with freckles, body for days, and reddish-brown hair. I also didn't remember seeing them in the same place at the same time. You would think sisters of the same age, like my brother and me, would be around each other, frequently. Hell, the girl who I thought was her sister, same body type and same round face, was nothing but a self-created red herring.

Years after we graduated, she asked my brother about my podcast. She went to an after-school program with him, so they were relatively close. I never knew if he smashed. My brother didn't talk about his women because, as he liked to say, "Niggas who talk on their dick don't let their dick talk." I guess he inherited that type of boorish conversing from our Dad. When Dad tells stories about Mom from back in the day, he always says she was, “Built like a brick shithouse!” After he lost his job as a chemist due to downsizing he laid this gem on me, “Fuck ’em and feed ‘em beans!” I still don’t know what the hell that means. My brother was a crass dude, just like Dad. Damn, I miss you, bro. Mom and Dad are still going through it. He never could get on his feet. He jumped from job to job, but couldn't find something that held his attention. He loved to read and could go on and on about literature for hours and hours. He found zero use for his communications degree from Rutgers or his masters in communications from Villanova. He did have a serious passion for writing, though. Dude had some words, but he didn't know how to get into the industry. He has the same problem as me. He never thought he was good enough to be recognized by someone who mattered, so he kept his talent to himself. I would like to do a data transfer on his Mac and look at his collection of work, but I feel that's an invasion of privacy. He deserves to rest in peace. Plus, I don't want to find anything that would make me view him differently. Being only a year apart, so we did almost everything together, but everyone has their secrets. He deserves to keep his secrets secret. Anyway, when he told me she asked, I was perplexed. Why was she even thinking about me and who told her I had a podcast? It sounded like some stalker shit.

Aww, shit! The wedding is letting out. I can't be here. I'm in my feelings, right now. I know my eyes are red, thinking about Karlos. I’ve been on the verge of tears for I don’t know how long. Let me peep my game in this mirror. Yeah, I’m the vain motherfucker who moves his rearview mirror to look at himself. I catch myself doing that on the road, sometimes. I need to cut it out before I get hurt, or worse. Yup, they're red and I haven't even been crying. Just the level of emotion I'm feeling right now has overcome me. My bro, this wedding, sneaking away from my lady. What did Ron Burgundy say? I’m in a glass cage of emotion! Where are those damned sunglasses? Shit! Where the fuck did I put them?! I had them on my face when I got into the car. Where are they?! Calm down, dude, calm down. It's okay. Your heart is racing for no reason. Here they are, in the middle console. Let me jump on 95 and get to my hotel. I'm feeling like eating pancakes for some reason. Yo! I can go to Eggspectations! The one in Ellicott City isn't far at all! I'm going to tear those joints up! I glad I got my mind off the situation at hand but I know it will wander back while on the road. It always wanders back....

I-95 is an interesting highway. It literally hits every major city on the east coast. Boston, New York, Philly, Baltimore, DC, and Miami. In 300 or 400 miles, you could see 3 of the 5 largest cities in the country without deviating off the beaten path. That’s extremely cool. Damn, I’m a nerd. I’m up here thinking about cities on an Interstate. Who does that? Probably the same guy who can recite every lyric to every song ever released by Mos Def. I’m never going to call that dude Yasiin Bey. It’s not on some disrespectful, Floyd Patterson not calling Muhammad Ali, Muhammad Ali, shit. I just forget he changed his name. That dude is so talented. It’s messed up that he’s retiring, but that’s a selfish comment on my part. Every man has the right to live his life in the way he best sees fit. Do your thing Flacco Bey aka Pretty Dante, do your thing! I wish he did more movies. I use his sheepish line from Brown Sugar about champagne flutes, all the time. That joint cracks me up! I need to watch that movie when I get home. Richard Lawson! My divorce! HA!

I think I was playing Mighty Mos on my podcast the day the girl reached out to me. I’d forgotten she asked Los about it. It caught me off-guard because we didn’t communicate, often. I still didn’t understand why was she thinking about me? My Facebook account was in its infancy, so I hadn't said much to anyone or had the chance to offend anyone with my sarcastic way of speaking. I'm so to myself, no one noticed me, at least that was my belief. I figured she was like those girls who acted like the wrath of God would come down on them for even looking my way. Anyway, I gave her the link to the site and eventually we started texting back and forth with a couple phone calls sprinkled in. I was the one who stopped responding. I moved away from North Jersey and left everything in my past behind. I was happy to see her familiar face that Cimmerian morning, though. For some reason, her face ingrained itself in my soul. It was like when Mike saw Alicia at Roland’s wedding in The Wood. I was sort of struck by her, but not in the same way because we didn’t have much of a past. In the shadow of death, she provided the luciferous moment my soul needed. She came over to me at the repass and we had a long conversation. There were tears, smiles, laughs, and moments of uncomfortable vulnerability.

She came back to my parents’ house after the services were completed and we sat in the basement. Los and I always brought our girls to the basement, not to say Kenya was my girl or anything. When Dad was on his music kick, he soundproofed the walls so Mom couldn't hear all the noise he was making. I don't think he thought about the moans and screams from teenage and young adult girls he would be masking, too. Kenya and I sat in the basement and talked for hours, literally. I didn't sit next to her, though. I was beyond shaken by the events of the past week and I was feeling some type of way about her. I also knew my capabilities, despite having committed myself to someone. We talked about everything, our past, our outlook for the future, and, of course, Karlos. At one point, I saw tears roll down her French vanilla, freckled cheeks. I saw her cry earlier, but this was different. These tears were lonely. They were calling me. Her tears were the manifestation of withheld passion for the man in front of her as well as the pain of losing a friend. She needed to be consoled, but I was afraid. I didn't know what to do. I didn't like to see her pretty face cry in such a stoic manner, one tear streaking down her cheeks while glistening in the ambient moonlight shining through the window, but hiding in the darkness. I found myself slowly walking toward her with my right hand delicately, invitingly, and supportively reaching for her face. I wiped her eyes with my hand and kissed on the forehead before I sat next to her. A strange feeling came over my body. I can’t quite describe it. I felt weightless, but weighed down. I felt happy, fulfilled, but empty and sad. I started to ask her questions about her body, but I couldn't believe what I was doing. It was like an out of body experience. I wanted to touch and feel her. I wanted to know how she tasted and how she smelled. I wanted her and she gave herself to me, but I stopped myself short of any intercourse. I couldn't bring myself to it. I felt guilty because I was committed to someone else. I didn't want that karma to hit me. Yes, I enjoyed seeing her extremely unique body. Her pierced D cup, tear drop breasts with freckled, pink areolas on her toasted banana cream skin made the blood rush to my organ. My tumid state clouded my judgment as I asked to see and touch her vagina. Her skin and lips were so smooth. She was wet and pulsating with excitement while her salty, sweet floral aroma lightly fragranced the room. I was in the throes of lust for a woman I had not seen in years. I wanted to be inside her. I need to release the passion and pain of the previous week....

Hold on….

Who is calling my phone?!

Oh, shit....

On His Phone

Wow! She’s calling me? She’s calling me, right now? She picks today, of all days, to call me with all this stuff going through my head?! I thought she hated my guts, but she’s hitting my phone, at this moment?! This has been a wild day. I’m not answering this call. I remember when she left me hanging when I was trying to get at her when she randomly texted me a couple years after I left school. I can’t deal with this shit, man. I just can’t. I’m not taking her call….

Aye yo, why the fuck am I so frazzled!? I’m about to eat some motherfucking delicious, buttermilk pancakes at Perkins and I’m cursing in my head like Samuel Motherfucking Jackson! That old ass nigga is crazy as shit. He’s a great actor, though. I loved him as Jamal’s Dad in Ghostwriter, which still makes me crack up, and his role in The Long Kiss Goodnight with Geena Davis. I wish I could meet him and ask him how he feels to cuss out a stupid ass white people who confuse him with other black actors who look nothing like him. Those commercials he does with Spike Lee and Charles Barkley for Capital One during the NCAA Tournament are great, too.

Sam Jackson got my thinking all sidetracked, I guess that’s a good thing. I’ve been on a roll for the past several hours. This phone call, though. This phone call has me literally shaking my head. If I was texting someone, S-M-H would be prevalent in my messages. This girl was the first girl, well, nix that, the second girl whom I found very attractive and she could barely tolerate me. When I say tolerate, I mean it in the loosest sense of the word. If this woman could've permanently scrubbed me from her vision and hearing, making me a silent shadow, she would've paid any amount of money to do so. If this was the 1920s and 30s, she would’ve hired Murder Inc. to have me exterminated simply for being born. What's worse? I have no idea what I did to receive that reaction. I guess my personality rubbed her the wrong way, which isn’t surprising or new.

This is the most I’ve ever been this much into my thoughts. Usually, I don’t think, I just react, but I guess I need to wrap my brain around everything that’s going on. This isn’t too much, but a nigga is feeling a little emotional and all these random memories are being associated with current occurrences. I wouldn’t have thought I would feel that uncomfortable at the wedding and would’ve been so into my feelings when I left the wedding or so angry when I started thinking about my sorry-ass girlfriend. I need to calm down, but my inner self won’t shut the fuck up. This usually only happens when my insomnia is wreaking havoc. This shit just feels so fucking different and so odd. I remember when things were simpler, like in college….

I wasn’t a major player on Seton Hall's campus. I put my headphones on, kept my head down, and went to class. All those New York City niggas needed to be seen and show off, I wasn’t down with that shit. There’s a part of my personality that’s no-nonsense. Some shit just needs to get done without frills, like walking to class. Those dudes didn’t get it, but they’re from a section of the country that couldn’t be any more different than where I grew up. Regardless, I don’t think that had anything to do with me not being a “big fish” at The Hall.

I remember people used to call me, “Dude in the Falcons jacket” because I wore an Atlanta Falcons letterman's jacket, every winter and fall day for 4 years. It was very distinguishable. That shit makes me laugh. There was a dude that we caught fucking our boy’s girl, at his apartment, on the bed he bought, that we called, “Dude in the red jacket.” Who fucks, inside a house or apartment, and keeps his jacket on?! Did “Dude in the red jacket” think that was his sexual motif? Did dude think he was an amateur Mr. Marcus and wearing his jacket was akin to Mr. Marcus never taking off his baseball cap and socks? That nigga was a simp. He also jumped out the window when he saw us. Bitch ass couldn’t face the music when the music was at the got damn door. It took everything we had inside us not to jump his ass whenever we saw him on campus.

My thoughts keep getting sidetracked with randomness. I’m starting to annoy, myself. That’s probably why she couldn’t stand me. Shit, I don’t know, man.

Since my class-going tableau never changed, it made sense to earn that moniker, and I hate I associate the nickname with the “Dude in the red jacket,” but that’s how my brain works. Did just fucking use the word tableau in a sentence? No one thinks or talks like that! Who the fuck says tableau? I’m seriously on my Carlton Banks, right now. The nigga said “opt!” OPT! And endowment! The only time I hear opt is when I’m declining some credit card shit and the only time I hear endowment is when I’m watching some fuck shit on PBS! Why am I yelling in my head?! I’m going crazy man! These women are driving my fucking crazy. I feel like Musiq Soulchild without the lazy eye.

I lost my training of thought….Reflections Eternal….Mos Def & Talib Kweli….fuck, man….

Where was I? Oh, yeah….

I used to walk across a parking lot next to one of the dorms, every day, while headed to class during my junior year. Later in the school year, I became friendly with a girl who saw me take that daily path. The first time I met her, which was at a mutual friend’s house party, she asked me a slightly creepy question that made me take a step back. She asked me what I was listening to on my way to class. In my head, I was like, "Whoa! I barely know you and have never laid eyes on you until this moment. What kind of question is that? Are you stalking me?" Yeah, I had a stalker while I was at school. I had a couple, neither of them were cute. One of them we called Rambo because she was always wearing camo bandanas and the other was called Snuffaluffagus because, well, she fucking looked like Snuffy from Sesame Street, but that's a story for another day. Anyway, my soon-to-be friend picked up on the immediate withdrawn look on my face and said she could see me from her room, in attempt to backtrack on the intrusive, but innocent question. I laughed it off when I noticed her need for me to accept the mea culpa. I told her I was listening to a mixed playlist of hip-hop and R&B on my Minidisc player. Our friendship blossomed after that moment while also becoming the genesis of the intimate relationship purgatory which would mold my early 20s and influence my 30s. That’s another story, too….

Now, that first girl who hated my guts. Dawg….

During freshman year, I was completely lost, emotionally and mentally. I wouldn't say I was homesick. I was glad to be so far away from home. My Texas drawl became somewhat of a novelty act in North Jersey. Anyway, I spotted a tall, big chest, gorgeous woman talking to one of my boys. Yeah, I'm the guy who takes women from his friends. Sue me. So, I see her talking to one of my boys and I say to myself, "Woo wee! She's finer than all outdoors! I would drink her bath water!" I was country as fuck, back then. To say the woman was bad would be an understatement. As time progressed, this young lady became part of our ever-growing crew. We started as group of 5 and quickly grew to about 10, maxing out at 15 with a couple kats making cameos on a random basis. I wish some of those meddling motherfuckers never showed up. Getting back to the girl, I tried to talk to her, but at the time, I came off as extremely bougie and talked down to people. It wasn't on purpose. I was overcompensating from being a big fish in the little pond of Tyler, TX to being the type of fish you throw back because into the water because it's worthless. I was catfish in an ocean of Alaskan salmon. Nah, let me check myself. It was definitely on purpose. I was a bitter, jealous, little nigga. I was trying to make my mark and failed, miserably. This girl picked up on my poor job of attempting to garner attention and put me in my place whenever she could. She would've pissed on the me if I was on fire on the side of the road, but she would have crapped on me, afterwards, to increase the embarrassment. That's how much she disliked me. After the school year, she was spent the summer riding the train with her father who was a conductor for Amtrak. I don't know why she called when they were on their way to Tyler, but she did and saw a completely side of me. Get this, she fell for me in 2 days. My demeanor was so different and so I was relaxed and cool, the kid landed the girl who was built like a brick shithouse! As in most college relationships, it didn't last. Big breasts lose their allure when the girl doesn't put out and you're tired of getting blue balls when you see her. It physically hurts to be 18 and horny.

Getting back to the gist of the story, it was in the summer between my junior and senior year when I saw this young lady, who I think still wishes I would die a fiery death. My best friend's girlfriend was having a cookout at her mom's house in South Jersey. Straight up, my eyes popped out of my head like when Roger Rabbit saw Jessica for the first time. Ok, that was straight up hyperbole. Truth, she was exotic to me because, and this is going to sound crazy, but it was the first time I saw freckles on a black woman of her complexion, in person.

In Tyler, there aren't too many people who look like me and there aren't too many people who wanted to hang around an Indo-Jamaican, African American family, either. We were too different for the good folks in Tyler, plus they liked to say nigga more frequently than Michael Blackson at a Juneteenth celebration, so we kept to the small group of black folks in our neighborhood, most of whom have lived there since the Civil War. All that being said, those freckles were sexy as hell. On top of that, she was chesty, probably a D cup or larger. In the years since beginning to attempt to guess breast or bra sizes, I've found I'm not as good as I once believed, which means I've always been wrong. It serves me right for sexualizing someone based off two lumps of fat they can't conceal without 10 feet of Ace bandages, a spool of duct tape, and a tutorial by Hilary Swank.

Looking back, I know it wasn’t just the freckles that spread across her full cheeks like vanilla beans in ice cream. It was the perfect imperfection of her big brown eyes, butter pecan skin, and chestnut brown hair that changed colors in light depending on the angle. Look at me being all poetic and shit. Call me motherfucking Langston Hughes. Nah, I’m more like Harper Stewart. There I go, again…. Anyway, basically, I needed to get her attention, but was so got damn lost in the sauce, a nigga didn’t know what to say and didn’t want to rub her the wrong way. Shit, I was confident in myself and oratorical skills, but women fuck with my head without saying a word. Maybe it was all the weed I was smoking, but got damn….

Listen to this shit, though, all the good vibes I was feeling when first saw her were dashed when she looked through me and tried to act like I wasn't present when we were introduced. I was Patrick fucking Swayze! I was a got damn ghost, dude! I’ve never felt so small. When you run so hot and cold, as I’ve always run since I was little, that shit is so humbling. I remember when I was 12, playing in the regional AAU championship basketball game at Carter HS in Dallas and nearly got kicked out for ripping off my jersey, throwing it to the ground, and going on an expletive-riddled tirade while stomping off the court after the ref called the third phantom foul on me in the first 5 minutes of the first half. I was the best player on the team and that non-refereeing son-of-a bitch couldn’t get his shit straight. My Mother had a fit and went chasing after me to cuss me out and tell me how I’m supposed to behave in high pressure situations. I didn’t learn shit from that moment, but it’s a funny story.

Now, I was already behind the 8-ball and was in a silent panic because this was unfamiliar territory. The competitor in me needed to win this girl, but the shy kid in me was telling me to fall back. That was extremely confounding! In 2 minutes, I went from, "Yup, I got this!" to "Umm, hey, over here! I'm standing in front of you. Look at me!" to "Forget this girl and her bougie, pretentious way. She's not that cute, anyway!" to "But those freckles, though! Damn!" She had me twisted like a Keith Sweat song and all I could do is whine to my boys about getting played without saying a word about my intentions. It was the equivalent of getting fired on your day off. It was a Friday, too.

After that awkward, well awkward for me, interaction or non-interaction, the next time I saw her was at my best friend's 21st birthday party. I should’ve stopped drinking before his birthday because the elixir makes too much of myself. Too much of myself makes me jump off the top of bunk beds, feet first, only fall halfway down and land on my face or request my boys “Call the cops, man, call the cops!” and go on and on sounding like a white boy from the valley saying, “I don’t want to die here, man! I don’t want to die here!” and then throwing up my roommate’s bed because vodka and brown liquor don’t mix. Anyway, I digress….

I can’t believe I’ve been sitting in this Perkins parking lot, thinking to myself, while listening to my boy, DJ Caesar on Shade45 on SiriusXM. I remember when I tried to get at his girl while not knowing she was his girl. He’s a good dude, though, and saw it was an honest mistake. If I ever get married, I’m going to get him to DJ. He’s been a good friend over the past few years and I need to keep the good people around me.

It’s funny, all my people are older than me. Our crew is at least 1 month and as many as 14 months older. I'm the baby, but I don't get treated like it. Let me take that back, I do get treated like the baby because I'm the one who gets picked on and teased ad nauseam. I'm the dude in Belly who shoots Sincere because Buns was cutting on him, in an earlier scene, expect I don't have a violent temper and the grilling and clowning never goes over the line. I guess that's a bad analogy. Let me think, if we were the cast of Saved by the Bell, I would be Screech. That's perfect! I’m the smart nigga in the room with extreme nerd tendencies. Yeah, I’m Screech.

I’m always trying to overcompensate for my shortcomings. My age has always been the largest amongst them. Being the youngest, I try to drink the most, smoke the most blunts, and be the most informed or smartest dude in the room. Shit, I got so high one night, I knew all the secrets of the world and I could touch the future. That’s what I get for fucking with E Double’s gravity bong. When you're young, you learn the hard way.

Ok, so for my boy’s birthday party, my Dad brought me and my female, childhood friend to Newark from his apartment in Baltimore. People were so confused when I would go to Baltimore for spring break or on weekends. Trust me, I wasn't going back and forth from Tyler to Newark. I don't like to fly, I don't like taking my shoes off, and I like to travel with a bag of weed in my suitcase. The NSA would be all over my black ass for trying to pull a Nate Newton at BWI. Getting back to the story, my Dad dropped us off at our friend's house where the party would take place. As soon as I got there, I started drinking. I’m the dude who pre-games at 9am. I was feeling myself too much and was too stupid to eat anything before putting alcohol in my body. By the time the party was scheduled to start around 9pm, I was feeling good. I was waiting on the PYT with the freckles to show up but the liquor had other plans for my patience. Why my ignorant ass didn't eat all day, I’ll never know. When I decided it was a good idea to eat, my stomach gave me the finger. By 10pm, I was drinking Everclear straight from the bottle and smoking the worst rolled blunt in the history of blunts. There were big ass basketball players looking at me like I was crazy.

When I get high, for some reason I think I’m a ladies man. I think I’m Leon Phelps without the afro, bellbottoms, and house boat. So, if an attractive woman enters the room, it doesn't matter if we've never met, I will try to get the digits and, hopefully, take her on trip to Space Mountain. Shout-out to the dude Ric Flair! I wish I could be a limousine riding, jet flying, kiss stealing, wheeling-dealing, son of a gun, but I don’t have that sort of charisma, which why I fail at getting my dick wet when I want to get my dick wet. I can fall into pussy, all day, every day. When a nigga tries to get the draws, I end up masturbating in the shower while listening to Janet Jackson moan on Velvet Rope.

Did I just shout-out Ric Flair in my head? I’m really losing my mind, man. Next thing you know, I’ll be at an Interstate rest stop, standing at a urinal, laughing, while my dick is in my hand. That shit would get me arrested and I would end up at the psych ward of some hospital in rural Maryland. I would have to sit my ass in there until they let me go on my own recognizance because I’ll be damned if I have to call someone and tell them I was arrested for laughing while holding a sexual body part in a public restroom. I’m not going to be the black PeeWee Herman. Fuck that. That’s some shit a nigga does when he’s high. I sound high, thinking to myself and jumping in and out of stories to myself, with my overthinking ass.

Where was I? Right….

I didn’t think the mixture of weed and liquor would stop my pimp game, a nigga was wrong as hell! I was talking to two women who thought I looked like Tek from The Real World, they must've been high and drunk, too, when the room started bouncing and spinning, simultaneously! I was cool until I sat down next to them. As soon as my cheeks hit that couch, it felt like a bad acid trip, or what I would assume how a bad acid trip feels. It's was the craziest experience, ever! Everything was moving in slow motion. I felt like Smokey from Friday after he was tricked into smoking Angel Dust. I felt stuff crawling on me and my skin was on fire. Then, my body decided it didn't like what was going on and my gag reflex kicked into full gear. In the middle of the conversation with the two women, I slid to the floor, and crawled to the bathroom. My boy was watching the entire thing and cleared a path. I was hugging the porcelain throne instead of motorboating D cups. Did just make my second Friday reference in this thought?

So, I missed the PYT because I had to drag my lightweight ass upstairs into the hallway to get out of the way. I laid flat on my stomach, burping the foulest smelling shit known to man, and slipping in and out of consciousness. While I was up there, my people thought it was cute to have fun with me, so they were bringing girls upstairs to clown me and take photos. One of those girls sat her ass on me! Who does that?! When I woke up the next morning, I wasn't allowed to drink the water because, per one of my friends, it smelled like pussy.

I forgot about the PYT until the school year started. It’s dope how I can be out of sight, out of mind with some things, especially around Madden season. When that game would come out, shit, you couldn’t pull me away from my PlayStation. I made so much money beating niggas by using glitches in the game. My nerdiness came up strong in those moments. I was also preoccupied with moving into our apartment.

My boys and I opted to rent an overpriced, on-campus apartment. If people knew how much that shit cost, they would’ve thought we were drug dealers. I guess that's the cost of convenience, but it was well worth it in the long run. To christen the new place, we had a small party with our closest friends. This was the night my best friend and I found out Lime Tosititos and peanut butter M&Ms were a fucking fantastic combination after smoking a bowl.

This was also the night when the PYT first recognized my existence, granted it was because I wasn't wearing a shirt much of the time and my chicken chest was the center of all the jokes, which she instigated. Something was better than nothing, though. I was glad I was too high to retort with anything too biting. I find myself crossing the line when I can't think of anything funny on the spot and it's only cool to be mean when it's funny, which was a difficult lesson to learn. I was mean more often than funny, but on this night, the weed was telling me to calm down, be humble, and not blow the chance to see some drunken breasts in a few hours. When titties are involved, you better got damn listen to the weed!

By the end of the night, the PYT was in my bed, but not with me. If I was telling this story aloud, this is when niggas would get hype. They would think she smashed the homies, but nah, she was in the bed with two other girls. All three of them were passed out, drunk, and fully clothed. I was on the couch letting the weed and the Henny, which came after a couple unsuccessful rounds of truth, dare, or consequences, wear off. The perv in me wanted to jump in the bed with the 3 girls, butt ass naked, and start touching body parts. I know that shit would land me in jail if they didn't consent, so I kept my shirtless, horny, slightly high, slightly drunk ass on the couch and watched reruns of the Golden Girls and Empty Nest on Lifetime. If niggas knew I had thing for Blanche, the clowning would never end. They showed one of my favorite crossover episodes, that night. Blanche showed up on Empty Nest and they did a sitcom version of Fatal Attraction. That was my shit! I wonder if it’s on iTunes?

It was a minute before I saw her, again. When I did see her, she was off limits. She didn't have a nigga or anything, but I had a lady, which was a mistake on my part. I shouldn't really diss my ex, but I’m talking to myself in my head, so it isn’t really a diss. She was cute and had body for days, but she wasn't my type. She liked to watch HGTV, all got damn day, and I wanted to play video games and watch SportsCenter. Listen, her sheltered ass was first truly introduced to hip-hop when got to campus. Her Pop was a doctor in Connecticut and kept his 3 sons and only daughter in the dark regarding a lot of life experiences, especially the nigga shit that everyone should know when they grow up. I mean, she didn’t know putting a brick on the stove in the winter can heat the entire house for pennies on the dollar versus turning on the furnace. She only knew Love & Basketball by the quarter breaks in the movie. The nigga said she’s only watched to the 3rd quarter! Who says that shit? A sheltered as nigga from Bridgeport, CT, that who. She never put water in the ketchup or soap bottles to get the last drop of your hard-earned money. She didn’t know shit! I grew up listening to UGK, the Geto Boys, DJ Screw, and needed to cut corners to save money at every turn. That’s not to say she’s not as black as me, that’s ignorant. She just didn’t have a wide range of experiences. Her body made up for a lot of her shortcomings, though. Her ass was rotund! Plus, she let me do some weird shit I saw on TV. HBO used to play this late-night show called “Shock Video.” In one of episodes, two with big, floppy breasts, were seeing how many books they could under each titty! Since the ex had perky E cups, I was curious as shit! I didn’t have that many books, I didn’t read a damn thing back in the day, I wanted to see how many DVDs she could hold under each breast. For the life of me, I can’t remember how many she held, but the shit was impressive.

Moving on with the story I’m reciting to myself, that’s always going to be weird, when I saw the PYT, we were getting ready for my birthday party at my friend’s house, which meant a trip to liquor store. Being my 21st birthday, I was amped to legally buy alcohol. Since she was younger than me, I had to commit a felony and buy the liquor she wanted. Well, let me revise that comment. I wanted to buy the liquor she wanted so she would have a reason to talk to me. The shit didn't work! I bought her the fifth of Henny, which cost about $10, and was smart enough to say she needed to pay me back. I was trying to be slick because for her to pay me back meant she would have to see me again and actually speak. That shit blew up in my face! Not only did she never pay me back, she didn't even stay for the party! She was there for 5 minutes, then disappeared! She went fucking David Blaine on me! I was pissed to start the party because she bounced, which was before my girlfriend started kissing and rubbing on my boys when they started to arrive. The whole night was a disaster.

The woman I willingly put my penis inside, with and without protection, started drunkenly molesting your closest friends at your own birthday party! I was mad, but happy at the same time. First, you just don't do that shit! You don't! I mean, flirting is one thing, and I can't be mad at that because I'm guilty of flirting with any woman who gives me the time of day, but touching and trying to kiss them on the mouth is something different. I had to pull her off a couple of my friends because she was getting too frisky. They were looking at me like a pimp who couldn't control his hoes. I was happy because she gave me an out. I could get out of the relationship with a valid reason and give the PYT 100% attention, which is what I wanted. Things became easier when the nigga fell through a closet door and pissed her pants. I left her big booty behind at my friend's house and carried myself home.

The whole thing with breaking up with my girlfriend and hollering at the PYT played out differently than I anticipated because it sure as hell didn't work the way I wanted! I saw her outside of the student activity center, a couple weeks after the break up, and gave her my number. She never called and acted like she didn’t want the number. She couldn’t even fake it. Why am I laughing at myself, right now? That shit is funny. I was used to getting dissed or rejected, so I took it well. Nah, nigga, you didn’t take it well. You bitched to people about it, but made sure they didn’t have any contact with the crew because you didn’t want to be that crying, whining ass Keith Sweat-type nigga, again. I was used to getting rejected, though. One night, at a club in the Bronx, I was dancing with this girl. Well, saying I was dancing with her is a stretch. She was dancing and I was trying to catch the beat, which I failed to do. This nigga patted me on the chest and told me she thinks I should stop and walked away! E Double was there and cracked the fuck up! I couldn’t believe that shit! Anyway, the PYT texted me, 2 years later, literally….

For some reason, out the blue, she texted me and wanted to link up. I was floored because, again, I thought she wished me dead. Anyway, for the first time, she was engaging me, commenting on my posts on social media, and including me in some of her thoughts. I didn't know what the hell was happening. I didn't know if I should be happy to finally get to learn more about her or worried that I was getting played. This shit felt like a trap and I was too stupid to fall back. Everything she was doing felt and sounded like some rebound type shit, except, I wasn’t Bill Russell, I couldn’t secure the board, and I knew it. It didn’t take long before the engagement and

the communication stopped. The shit was stopped cold turkey, too. One day, we were cool. The next day, I couldn’t get a response. A nigga was puzzled. So, I did what any other guy in his mid-20s would do when a woman disses him without notice, I deleted her from Facebook. Granted, I re-add her later, just to delete her, again, which became a cycle of mine during that age. I thought deleting someone from social media meant deleting them from my life, but their impact resonated in my mind. The what-ifs were too numerous and I was too immature to take rejection at face value. I took it personally when I should’ve taken it as a challenge to find the flaws within myself and make myself the type of person who can look those who don’t want me around and be unfazed by their convictions.

I guess I didn’t learn my lesson. That’s why I’m in the parking lot of this Perkins when I should be at a wedding reception. Confusion and jealousy makes a man to do crazy things, so do freckles, a big chest, and cowardice.

The real crazy part, I’ve always been more attracted to a woman’s intelligence, the way she thinks, how she interacts with others, and her grind to get what she wants. I saw all of those things in her. The cherry on top was outside package. I was just too dumb not to initiate conversation about things I could gleam simply by seeing the activities she was involved. I’m not saying I would’ve joined those groups, that’s some stalker shit. I’m saying, looking back at my early to mid-20s from my mid-30s, I could’ve used a completely different tactic like not being passive aggressive. Nothing was stopping me from pulling her off to the side and privately introducing myself, letting know my general intentions, and trying to get to know her. I didn’t and don’t know what was going on with her life. I was too selfish to think about anyone else’s trials and tribulations.

I need to call her back. I owe her the respect of listening. I wanted her to listen to me, but I didn’t have the balls to open my mouth. After all these years, she’s opening her mouth. Initiating conversation with someone who is essentially a stranger is one of the toughest things to do in the world. People will climb Mt. Everest, but won’t tell someone who means the world to them how they feel. Emotions are a bitch, man. I guess that’s why Nas made “Life’s A Bitch.” Shoot your shot.

Ok, now I’m mixing metaphors. Let me get inside this restaurant, enjoy my pancakes, and people watch like how Pop taught me....

#thoughts #love #relationships #confusion #conscience #frustration

0 notes