Totally Random Vol. 3

SO I saw a guy I used to date yesterday at the grocery store.  Date is maybe too strong of a word. He took me out to eat once and to a movie once. We didn’t have any chemistry and he was a little bit dumb. Cute but dumb so when he wanted me to come by his house to “chill” for the third date I politely declined and never talked to him again.  Back then I was young and felt like I shouldn’t waste my time on something I knew wasn’t going anywhere and I knew I wasn’t going to break him off a piece of the nookie cookie so I moved on.

Anyhoo, I see him at the store. You know how you pass by someone and they are looking at you like they know you but you have no idea who they are? Well by the third time I saw him (and I stopped mean mugging him) I had that stupid “Wait I do know you” look on my face. Dont-I-know-youHe smiled and started to hug me but I stepped back. (I guess that’s where I went wrong) He said his name and I immediately remembered who he was. We caught up for a moment—with him quickly telling me he was still single. (Mmmhmm *side eye*) But then he tells me that he almost didn’t recognize me because of how fat I had gotten. (Insert dramatic record skip) Who does that?!

Now lookey here….. You in the bloggesphere may not know me but he took a real risk by insulting me like that. I could have just kicked him in the nuts but I smiled and said. “Yup all this is attributed to good living and happiness.” And moved around.

He caught me by the arm and toldme he noticed I wasn’t wearing a wedding ring……AND THEN ASKED ME FOR MY PHONE NUMBER!!!!!

dead-bird1*DEAD* Really?! So I said, “Wait. Lemme get this straight. I’m so fat you didn’t recognize me although you were so far down my throat you could tell me what I had for dinner last night yet you want my number because you see I don’t have a ring on my finger? Well, I hate to disappoint you further but I just got through working out and that’s why I don’t have a ring on. I’ve been married for 15 years.” And then I walked away.  I thought I handled the situation with class but I really wanted to go full CRAZY BITCH on him. Like dig to the bottom of the bag of crazy and tell him his breath smelled like he’d been eating Funyons and sipping on an onion smoothie. AND let’s not talk about the fact the he looked like he’d been freshly released from prison after leading the hard life of a homeless drunk. (He didn’t look that bad but his hayday was definitely in college) I must admit I held myself together.

So as I’m checking out, who do I see in the line next to me? He wrote his number down on a bank teller slip and handed it to me.

What. The. Hell?

Anyhoo….a day in the life….



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