tongue like a diamond dagger
chronicles of okc: smothered by seamen
I’m really starting to think that the people on OKC are absolutely insane. I’ve ultimately made my decision to attempt to delete my site, though I still have a lot of stories I have yet to share with you. This one in particular is absolutely batshit insane.
Our first date happened at the Inner Harbor in Baltimore. We shared a mediocre dinner at the Hard Rock Cafe (nothing against the cafe, I absolutely adore it – our food just wasn’t on point that day for some reason).
I should have realized something was up when at the end of the meal the waitress asked how the meal was and instead of the traditional bite of the tongue, he decided to actually tell her what he thought of the meal.
Let me explain something to you from the perspective of a former waitress at the Cheesecake Factory – if I ask you a question like that it’s merely a courtesy. It’s not that I don’t care, but unless it’s at the beginning of the meal that comment is of no consequence to me. I won’t be returning a full plate to the chef with a critique and I also won’t be making a mental note to tell the chef next time that this one particular customer didn’t like his steak that evening. The chef doesn’t give a shit, he’s not being paid off commission like we are!
Our date then continued to a walk on the boardwalk, chatting about random things. He actually had a decent sense of humor but some of the things he said stuck out to me.
“I’m 26, I’m at a point in my life where I don’t have time for games. I’m very mature and I don’t like it when people are immature. “
I don’t understand what his age has to do with it, especially now. Being 26 doesn’t mean you’re automatically more mature sweet heart. The fact that he had to sit there and claim his maturity is a problem for me, who is he trying to convince? I don’t listen to words honey, I only take a look at actions.
Because the movie was super late and our dinner ended sooner than expected, we decided to chill at his place for a little bit. He decided to pull some cheesy move like turning on the fireplace.
First of all there’s nothing romantic about a fiery glow flashing off of a trashy apartment. Second of all nothing is going to happen between us, so you might as well stop wasting gas now.
After talking for a while I learned a couple of things about him. He’s in the navy (hence the title) but he can’t swim. EXPLAIN THAT ONE TO ME. I also learned that his last girlfriend faked a pregnancy so he wouldn’t leave. Really? From what I can see so far the brotha’ isn’t that great.
Then he makes a fatal mistake – he asked if I liked to cook. First of all bitch, I don’t even cook for starving children, why the fuck would I cook for you? Second of all you’ve got two very capable hands. You’ve been cooking for yourself THIS damn long, why stop now? YOU should be the one cooking for ME, this is your damn house!
He then asked if he went to the store and bought some cookie dough if I’d bake him some cookies.
… Nigga you can’t read directions? It ain’t that damn hard! You can follow orders but you can’t put some cookie dough in 1 1/2 inch diameters, set them two inches apart, preheat oven to 400 degrees and place the pan in the oven for 8-9 minutes or until brown nigga?
He tries to kiss me, I fail to return said kiss. Clearly he’s trying to have sex with me by the way he’s moving around me and for some odd reason I was bursting with laughter on the inside.
I especially found it amusing when he was wearing a cross on his neck, really sticking to your faith there huh? I told him no, and he still tried. He’s turning into borderline rapist here. I told him that he better drive me back immediately, and he did.
The next day he apologized and I accepted the apology. That night he said he missed me and asked if I wanted to see him. I told him that calling me at 2am is not a good look and that if he can’t call me during the proper hours then he needs to find another bitch to call.
It’s obvious what you want dipshit.
He got an attitude with me and I told him that it was simply over between us and that there’s no reason to call me. I don’t sit and deal with immature little boys claiming to be men.
This time no apology or anything. Typical.
A week later he messages me saying the same shit: “I miss you, do you wanna see me?” I reply with simply: “No.”
Then he, like so many other Black men tend to do these days (and it really fucking pisses me off) tries to play the victim and decides it’s the mature thing to do to send me 100+ text messages in an attempt to insult me. Mother fucker I have VERIZON. You have AT&T. Verizon doesn’t play that shit! Good thing you were dumb enough to leave your credit card information out in the open and it’s a damn good thing I’m great at remembering numbers because bitch, YOU are paying my phone bill!
Going through the usual rejection sequence:
“Bitch you’re crazy!!”
So I’m crazy because I rejected you? I think that makes me pretty sane.
“I don’t need you, you fucking whore!”
That’s good to know, because if you did you’d be crazily stalking me and writing me angry messages… oh wait.
“I get bitches before, during, and after you!”
So why are you so upset then? It doesn’t look like you do.
“And you wonder why your ex cheated on you!!”
No I don’t wonder why actually. I know why. Because he’s a dickless coward with daddy issues. Doesn’t have shit to do with me.
“Good luck finding somebody else!!”
*sings* to the left to the left… mmmm…You must not know ’bout meeeee you must not know ’bout meeee, I could have another YOU in a minute, and in fact he’ll be here in a minute… baybayyyy ❤
Then the text messages just keep coming with the same old shit until this one text message pops up: “Wow this is crazy, adults don’t say things like this. I wish you the best.”
What??? Did Captain Fail just attempt at trying to be the bigger person after cursing me out for the past 2 hours while I sat around saying pretty much nothing the entire time?? He then feels the need to repeat what he said as if all of a sudden that would make everything better?
The bitch is psychotic. I told him to go fuck himself in the ass with something sand-papery and covered in AIDS.
Not three days ago he decides to text me saying “Hi, how are you?”
… Really bro? That’s how you roll? You think that after another week rolls by that I’m just gonna forget all the shit you just said to me?
I didn’t respond to that text either. I decide to check my messages.
I check my e-mail(s), my Facebook, and finally OKC to see if any of the friends I’ve made left me a message. I click on “Visitors” and who do I see??
I didn’t bother to blur out his name: if any other OKC users see this person they need to know what’s up. THAT and you can heavily down rate him if you’re a member. 😉
I actually plan on getting a restraining order on him. It’s too unfortunate that he knows where I live, even if it is slightly difficult for him to find me within the building, I don’t take chances. That and he has that persona of a stalker. GOOD THING the police station is literally right outside my window.
Thanks Walker Ave Apts for making sure this tiny princess is uber safe. 🙂
That or I’ll just get my buddy Jesse to kick his ass. Martial Arts for the fucking win?