Tuesday, May 09, 2006

The Bitter Blog

I'm seriously thinking about changing the name of this blog to The Bitter Blog, because it seems that's how everything seems to come out when I write it; whether I want to or not. But I'm pretty sure someone took that name.

So I'm doing a lot better than I have in weeks. I've been getting a lot more sleep, I've been exercising as well as eating better. I've even accpeted my fate of moving back home in (gasp) 1 month and a half. Usually when you get your shit together mentally, you start to feel a little better about yourself, you start being less bitter .

But if you've been reading my entries long enough, something has to come along and to completely fuck my world up.

So I was standing at the coffee shop this morning, like I do every single morning getting my coffee, when an really cute white guy comes in and stands behind me. He wasn't like a "oh, I have to have you" cute, he was that "oh, he's really cute and look away and not think about it anymore" cute.

The little coffee shop girl is really nice, so I can't really say anything bad about her... okay I'm bitter so I will, she ain't all that cute. She aight. But I got to witness in action this dude physically becoming her new boyfriend within the span of 5 minutes. I was standing literally right in between them, so much that I can feel him telepathically pushing my ass out the way so that he can get to her.

The conversation started something like this.

"Hey you used to work on the cafe on the strip right?"
"yeah,"
"I remember you."
"I like it much better over here."
"so what year are you..."

Blah, Blah. This infuriates me for two reasons. The first being that I swear to god, white people who attractive are never single. They overlap. They're with one, and with another before the other is over. Its just so damn easy for them.

Two, I really believe my mother is starting to think I'm a lesbian. And to be honest, I can't really blame her. The boys I have dated have been tragic, to be polite, and being officially almost 30, there is no hope in sight at all for that grandchild. Not even close. On top of that, I don't give two shits about how I look at all anymore. I wear braids all the time, I never wear makeup anymore, and don't even ask the last time I purchased or wore a skirt or a dress.

I swear, I cannot remember the last guy who tried to talk to me who (a) attempted to carry on a normal conversation, and (not or) (b)talked to me when I wasn't turned around or bent over.

True story, dude standing directly behind me offered to put pay to put air in my tires, but I happened to be completely bent over putting them in myself at the time.

I'm usually pretty okay about not having a boyfriend, but thing that drives you to insanity is you see how easy it is. Just talk. Have something in common. Carry on a decent conversation. And don't stare at my butt the whole time your doing it. That's all I ask.

Jesus, people. Pretend to want to get to know, me. Pretend not to stare at my ass. Pretend I don't even have one. Don't look at me like an alien when I open my mouth to speak in complete sentences. That's all I ask.

4 comments:

cookie21204 said...

you're damn straight about that slim pickins thing.

Jhaldir said...

Hmmm.. Its kind of funny how women always complain about the type of attention men give them. And men, ironically, wish we got as much attention, no matter the type, from women. The day will come when you might no get any attention at all and you will look back on the days of ass-staring fondly. Enjoy it now I say.

cookie21204 said...

we complain because the type of men who give me attention, are the same type of men who give attention to anything in a skirt. You don't really stick out so to speak. Its kind of a downer

trejan29 said...

Believe it or not, I agree with fiyah. Granted it's not the attention you want BUT if you didn't get any attention from anybody especially the men who try to holla at anything in a skirt you'd be near suicide as would most women. Whether we admit or not we feed off attention and compliments to validate our attractiveness as women. If you get none you feel ugly.