One day I met a guy through a guy through a friend and then went back to first guy which it did not work out so I went on to the second guy. Don’t ever try this folks cause the most valuable lesson you learn is don’t shit where you eat.  Anyhoo, the guy had some great stellar qualities-was romantic, knew people at the best clubs, go for long drives, the whole bit. Now you may ask what is wrong with that? The jigga did not know how to dress!!!! He thought that a safety pin holding together a hole in his shirt (a black one mind you so it stood out more) was cool to do.

I thought nothing over it the first night. But, after the third night over a candle light dinner, the silver of the pin just kept on glaring in the light. I knew that if this man was going to stay in my life the jigga needed a makeover-at his expense of course, what else? Listen to me. Always tell your man what you are thinking cause God forbid that he will have to guess. Most men, unless they are John Edwards, the psychic, need you to tell them. And if you don’t, guess what happens? The bitch will show up to a dinner with your friends and guess what he will wear THE SAME RIPPED UP BLACK TURTLENECK!!! This is just a-for-instance. But, can you imagine your shame when your friend Morgane notices and pulls you a side to give you a talk about his financial situation cause he can’t afford a new turtleneck, when they are sold at Walmart for $5.00. Also, a-for-instance too.

Was this a ball breaker? No.*SIGH* Was I going to confront him? Maybe.

So after 3 months and about 100++ times of sleeping together (not too much, spread apart, you know I believe on keeping it nice and tight!) I looked over at his door and what was hanging up, but that awful black turtleneck! I had to do something and I was obsessed.

I blurted out, “I can’t believe you wore that thing on that dinner with my friends. Don’t you have any other friggin turtlenecks to wear???” Okay, it didn’t come out of my mouth as such. It went something like this-”I would love to spend the rest of the day with you, but I have to go to the mall, to pick up some Nick Lacheys (say it slowly nic-kla-cheys or negligee) do you want to take me and then afterward we can come back and I can give you a fashion show?” Now who prey tell you is gonna say no to an array of titays and big bum served on a fine piece of china.

So we went to the mall.

I in a cute ensemble and him in a friggin dutty-looking t-shirt and dungarees. Dungarees!!! So me and Farmer Ted casually went into a man’s shop that had 2 for $20 table full of tops and I picked up a shirt and went absolutely bat-shit! I told him that he would look so A-M-A-Z-I-N-G in this and this one and in this one. You see the key was going to the cheaper tables to weigh out how much he could afford and I knew this nigga could afford a lot cause he had no baby mama dramas, no kids hanging from the nipples, no parents to pay rent to blah, blah, blah. And as he tried on some stuff I quickly scan the store for some more finds and kept on handing him stuff.  Jigga did not know what to expect! So overwhelmed all the sudden the man stumbled to the cashier and paid for his stuff and we went tra-la-la-la-la down to more stores.

And yes, when we went home I modeled some choice pieces for him-which I paid for myself! Thank you very mucha. I thought, “Good, work L.!”

And when I did see him have the audacity to put that turtleneck over his head yet again this time I casually said,

“Honey do you need me to sew that for you??”

“Why?” he asked.

“Maybe it is the gaping hole and the black little lint balls around the neck”

“Shit, you know how long I keep putting it off, I didn’t really notice it anymore.”

“Riiight,” I said, “And that’s why you chose to wear it for my friend’s dinner?”

“Sweetie, I am sorry. You should have told me. It won’t happen again. Let’s have make-up sex.”

Otay, so it didn’t actually happen that way. what really happen was….

“I hate that shirt. Don’t you see the big gaping hole in the shoulder with the pin in it!”

“I forgot about that.”

“Riiight, please throw it out it doesn’t look good on you anymore, and you are waay too hot to step out in that rag anymore….actually maybe you should wear it cause then girls won’t look at you (you like that eh, always build them up).”

“OH no, I will throw it out right away.”

“We’ll if you insist (make them think it was their idea).”

“Let’s have make-up sex.”

“I can’t I’m sore cause you are SOO BIG (yeah riiight) and you’re late for work.”

So the moral of the story is if you can’t tell your partner what you are thinking you are screwed. Screwed, I tell you!! You AND Farmer Ted.

So I go in peace and remember when I was at my most depressed and in my bed for over a year my mother pushed back my bangs and said,”Mama, don’t feel bad about where you are now, cause the crazy people carry the good pills.” Luv, Lucresia.

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