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The Proposal

Before I begin, let me apologize for this post being so disjointed.  It was difficult for me to figure out how to cram so much bullshit into one entry 😉


How It All Began

A year ago I received an email from Loverboy through Plentyoffish. He thought I was cute and I wholeheartedly agreed. Loverboy was supposedly a wannabe Hip Hop artist. Meaning he was unemployed. Our first phone conversation was nothing short of boring and blasé. After that I pretty much wrote him off as I wasn’t particularly interested in getting to know a starving artist with the personality of a stop sign, regardless of his amazing abs. He called back a few times but I never felt the undying need to answer and continue our conversation about paint drying and grass growing.

BUT, when I get bored I tend to look for something to amuse me. In other words, that’s when I get myself into trouble. I know the signs and I know the results and when I hear the little voice in my head that says “read a book”, “take a bubble bath” or “go for a walk around the park” I usually tell it to fuck off because I’m a big girl now and can do whatever I want.

So, against my better judgment, I called Loverboy back and said I could be over in an hour. My first thought when seeing him was YUM! I smirked and told the little bitch inside my head that I was right, she was wrong and neener neener. She’d be thanking me later when we played naked Twister. Without the mat.

The evening went far better than expected. We talked, we made out and he asked me to come back the following evening. I was smitten.

But my gut told me something wasn’t quite right. It was that stupid little bitch in my head again saying “run”, “get out” and “don’t look back!” To which I replied, “Shut up! He has a 9″ dick! I’m not going anywhere!”

The Beginning of the End

Driving out to eat one night in Loverboy’s Tokyo Drift Mercury Cougar, he had the volume of his radio set to approximately 43,000 decibels (which is about 307 times louder than a shotgun blast. I checked). As dogs howled and car alarms went off, I shouted above the song regaling me with tales of slapping bitches and Hennessey reigning supreme, to ask if he could turn the music down. Loverboy gave me a look that said “Is Wayne Brady gonna have to choke a bitch?” and reluctantly turned the radio down just as we pulled into the Pick Up Stix parking lot.

Not since being dropped off for school in my step dads ’73 Ford pickup truck with a Hound dog tied to the bed have I been so mortified. I’m sure we made quite the pair. He in head to toe FuBu and me decked out in Old Navy getting out of a racing car arguing over why or why not it’s for the best to turn the radio down when I’ve heard the word cunt one too many times. He barely spoke to me the rest of the evening.

The relationship took a steady downward spiral after that and it wasn’t long before I had to finally concede to that voice inside my head and admit she was right. Loverboy and I were both hard headed and stubborn. I should have known we were doomed from the start. The fact that I later found out he had two baby mamas and a record didn’t help matters either.

The End

I never did find out what he did for a living other than pursuing his dream of being the next Tupac. The one song he actually did play for me was awesomely stupid. It was quite difficult to keep a straight face while listening to it. Even though he claimed to have written it for me I was far from flattered. He couldn’t understand why his early declarations of love were falling on deaf ears and I couldn’t understand why a 36 year old man had a drifting car.

When my fascination with the dick wore off, I split. That was nine months ago.

The Proposal

Every few weeks since I went Houdini on him, he would call. He never left a message and I never answered. I had no desire to go hang with him and his buddies crying over MJ’s death and smoking weed. But, as happens every time I get bored and horny, I do something incredibly stupid and this time was no exception.

I returned Loverboy’s call.

In the time apart, we had both moved locations and gotten new jobs. And when I say “we got new jobs” I really mean “I got a new job”. He seemed almost giddy to hear from me. I decided to stop by and see him after work. He said he missed me like crazy and apologized for not “being the man he should have been” when we were together before. He said things were different now, blah, blah, blah.

I went back and spent Sunday, the 4th of July with him. We basically did nothing but watch bad TV and fuck. It was pretty much how I prefer to spend all my Sundays. Again, he started in with how things were different now and how much he felt he’d been given a second chance and didn’t want to screw it up.

Then, out of nowhere he asked me marry him. He said I was so amazing that I “should be somebody’s wife”.

Did anybody else just pee a little because I sure as hell did. What does that mean anyway? Does he even know me? I sport fuck for fun. I laugh at people that trip and I think that most babies are assholes. What part of that says “Wife” to you?

Shell-shocked and thinking of no less than 49 ways to reject his proposal, I simply told him I didn’t want to get married right now. At all. To anyone.

It was also explained that I needed to take him up on his offer before I got too old and wrinkled and he became famous. Hell, when he puts it that way it’s almost poetic.

The shit I put up with for a decent lay. I’ve clearly gone off my meds.

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9 Comments

  1. brewers_rule
    July 15, 15:29 Reply
    Yet again, I'm reminded how easily it is for people to just go get laid save for myself. I continue to hold the theory women hold ALL the cards in that area, host included.<br /><br />One of these days, that inner voice is GOING to take over, though, missy ;)
  2. Just Marlon
    July 15, 23:35 Reply
    Lmao at "continue our conversation about paint drying and grass growing."<br /><br />I think I met his cousin a few weeks ago. The mentalities & lifestyles match. Unfortunately (for me)I would call him Tom Thumb behind his back. But I digress.<br /><br />Maybe you are wifey material. You just gave Loverboy more fame than he could have gotten on his own. Don't forget to collect your commission.
  3. Something She Dated
    July 16, 00:30 Reply
    I'm too busy peeing myself and laughing to think of something witty to say in response...that is all.
  4. JupaMan
    July 16, 00:38 Reply
    hahahahaha OMG you are such an amazing writer. It couldn't have been better if it was somebody else's life. i can't believe he proposed... damn, that means your pussy IS that good.. but I'll never know. ;)
  5. Charlotte
    July 17, 21:18 Reply
    You are awesome. I can't believe his proposal. Dear god, listen to your inner bitch. I don't care how large his penis is!<br /><br />Thanks for sharing and reminding me why I never want to try online dating.
  6. Caleb
    July 23, 15:48 Reply
    LOL<br /><br />"I sport fuck for fun and think most babies are assholes"<br /><br />I like it. <br /><br />Seriously though- if you hadn't said he had abs and a 9"er, I would have chastised you for hanging out with this loser decked out in FuBu. <br /><br />Chicks.<br /><br />Nice blog!<br /><br />Caleb
  7. manshopping
    July 25, 22:58 Reply
    OH man, I've missed you, Miss Melisa Mae. I can't believe that I ever let my life get in the way of catching up on your blog posts.<br /><br />And yes, I peed myself a little too. Who wouldn't? Oh right, the people who don't like your blog, that's who. Weirdos.
  8. James
    September 23, 01:38 Reply
    He in head to toe FuBu and me decked out in Old Navy <<< (hilarious) Head to toe Fubu and super loud uncensored music with no regards or awareness should have been warning signs. Would have been a sight to see. Head to toe Fubu past the year 2003 tells 2 things either a person is outdated or they think they are super fly(cant wear the pant an shirt at the same time). Dont hate on a drifting car though ha.

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