I ask: “Where have you been?” And I receive a blank stare and then a frown in return as if I don’t have the right to wonder where he goes in the middle of the night. Ladies, let me tell you: a man who don’t stay home when it’s time to stay home is out there doin’ something he shouldn’t. Oh…you think I’m one of those? You know what I’m talkin’ about. One of those women who can’t keep a man happy so I’m bitter and lonely all the time? That’s who you’ve labeled me as, right? Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news honey, but there are two things wrong with that assumption. One, I aint a woman who can’t keep a man happy—I am a man who can’t keep a man happy. Two, assuming makes an ass out of ‘u’ not ‘me’.
Look, and listen (rather read) real close: I’m not bitter but I am mad. I’m so tired of women lookin’ at men like me and claimin’ that all the good ones are either taken or gay. That is one of the biggest lies I’ve heard since some fool said McDonald’s burgers were 100% beef. For one thing, the ones that are taken are out doin’ God knows what. And honey, you need to show me where the gay good guys at cuz I sure as hell aint seen one. Unless he was hidin’ behind a shady motha fucka.¬¬d Now back to what I was sayin’.
I asked this nigga, “Where have you been? It’s 3 in the damn mornin’ and aint nothin’ open in this little ass town.” Two things happened once this question came from my mouth: 1) Mr. Man stopped dead in his tracks 2) His pocket started tremblin’ and it wasn’t because he was happy to see me either.
Of course, instead of bein’ a “man” he decided to get mad instead of actually actin’ like the twenty-four year old adult that he is. “What the fuck you mean where I been? What are you? My daddy now? I gotta send you a memo when I go to take a shit?”
Look at me (dramatic pause) you see the knowing look in my eyes? I thought so. Men start talkin’ crazy and vulgar like that because they think that if they get all hateful you will just get tired of it and leave it alone. Maybe that works with some women (and/or men) but not this one here.
“No motha fucka, but next time you have to why don’t you send me a text message so I will know up front that I need to put on a damn gas mask to walk in the bathroom. You don’t gotta cuss all the damn time. I just asked you a simple question that calls for a simple answer so where the hell you been at? Its 3 in the damn mornin’!”
This time he decided to keep walkin’ as if his stankin’ ass didn’t hear my question. If he was smart, he woulda had a lie already prepared OR he woulda just told the truth and we could be done with this particular conversation but NOOOOO he wants to drag it along by bein’ a jackass.
“Oh, so you gonna act like you don’t hear me right? Ok, I got your number and I’m gonna call that number one day. Ignorin’ me like I’m a fuckin’ fly on the wall. Beyonce’ said it best: You must not know ‘bout me, god dammit.
I could have handled that conversation better. But it really ticked me off to see his fine ass just walk into the bedroom while his phone vibrated in his pocket like my question had no merit. It aint but so much you can take. Some woman called here askin’ why he was runnin’ late to meet her. See, he don’t know that. But like I said, I got his number…or better yet, I got her number.
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