When it comes to relationships and choosing the right person for you, you should never compromise. Get what you want the first time and every time after that....
The Bus Driver
I remember meeting a guy on the bus after a messy break up with my baby's daddy.
He was actually driving the bus and he wasn't my type but I was more interested in how he was going to treat me. We went to the movies for our first date because I didn't want to feel the pressure of having to speak with him.
He was late in meeting me at the designated spot that we had agreed to, which was turn off number one. When I finally met up with him it was quite disappointing to see him standing up. He had on a triple extra large graphic t-shirt that reached just about three inches above his knees. His pot belly was protruding out of his shirt as if he were five months pregnant. His jeans weren't quite tight, but they weren't baggy either. He wore the same boots that were a part of his uniform to drive the bus. So much for fashion. I also realized that when putting my money in the terminal, I never paid much attention to his face. When I finally stood before him, I wanted to make a run for it. He looked like an overstuffed rat. His nose was large and shiny and his eyes were really narrow and sneaky-looking. However, looks aren't everything. I decided to hold out for the personality.
When we got to the theater, he was so close to my face that I could tell you what he ate for breakfast that morning. I was so annoyed with his repetitive gawking that I wanted to spit in his face. He continued his supposed-to-be seductive gaze as I pretended to be engrossed with the film. I was beginning to feel really uneasy. I couldn't even focus on the film. All that I could think of was the dud sitting next to me and staring me in the face. I was thinking how much I didn't want to be there with him and it was irritating. . I was becoming upset because I had no control over the situation. (FYI: I am a rehabilitated control freak).
"Why do you keep staring at me?" I asked with obvious frustration in my voice.
"Cause you so pretty, baby." He said like he was a victim of my beauty. I was not impressed. I didn't like him and I didn't like him looking at me either. His attraction to me wasn't doing either of us any good at all. To make things worse, the guy pulls his own snacks out of his pocket. Seriously, he was loaded with chips and chocolate and was chomping on everything he had in his stash.
"You want some?' He asked between chomps. I feared his hot breath would singe my eyebrows and fray my hair. Another whiff of his putrid breath and I was certain the coroner would definitely be in the building.
"No." I said while making my best attempt to avoid inhaling. I couldn't bear the cool ranch aroma. It was toxic.
"Do you want something?" He asked. I knew that he meant some of his raggedy-ass chips, so I declined. Then I became thirsty and asked him for a soda. We went to the concession stand and I told him that I wanted a soda and some gummy bears.
"Wait a minute now..." He paused to flip open his wallet. "Now I only got eight dollars and I want a soda too, so lets see how much that costs." (Is this guy for real?)
At that very moment, the decision was made that there would be no second date.
The ride home was a lot less trying on my nerves since he was more fixed on his driving than the dreamy gaze he fixed on me all night. When we got to my apartment, I had to restrain myself from flying out of the car like a bat out of hell. I wanted out. I wanted out so bad that I was salivating. I was hungry to get the heck out of his car. He was waiting for me to initiate the boundaries of our goodbyes and I obliged by granting him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. He returned the gesture. I giggled my way out of his grasp and headed for my apartment door.
I thanked God for great escapes.
I needed a break before I let him down easy so called him three days later on New Years Eve. He picked up the phone on the first ring. Our conversation was brief and tense. He was spewing attitude like a transvestite with a broken heel.
"Hey!" I said cheerfully. I wanted to sound upbeat although I was less than enthused to be speaking with him.
"How are you." This was a sentence. It was not a question. No, it was an accusation... certainly not a greeting.
"Good....good. I just called to wish you a Happy new Year because I didn't know what your plans were for the evening. I just wanted to catch you before the ball dropped. " I decided to make the conversation even more brief. I wasn't going to give him any obligatory time since he was acting like a woman scorned.
"Well I didn't think that you were going to call me today since I didn't hear from you in awhile." There was even more animosity in his tone. He sounded so feminine with that attitude that I began to feel like I was talking to a woman. He was really working my nerves and I was five minutes away from telling him so. Still I kept my composure, most likely motivated by guilt.
"It has only been three days, I just saw you three days ago. " I said this with certainty.
"Oh", he said sarcastically "only three days. I guess that ain't long to you." (O-kay! This dude was dying for the jump off. In case you don't know the 'jump off' means the moment when things get serious, feelings get hurt, and hands may or may not start swinging. Its basically the last straw and there are no rules after the jump off).
"Nah, " I said in most nonchalant and cold tone "three day's ain't long to me. Happy New Year. " I slammed the phone down and called it a night.
This man was thirty-eight years old. I was about twenty-two. Was he serious?
A week or so down the line, he called me at work. Why did I give this fool my work number... I am still wondering.
So, he called me at work and just starts speaking without making himself known as if I am supposed to remember his voice when I was all too glad to wipe it clean from my memory bank.
This time he sounded very cheerful, quite the opposite from our last conversation.
"I hadn't heard from you in awhile so I wanted to see how you were doing." He said. I interpreted that to mean: 'I'm insecure and I want to know where we stand.'
I didn't want to speak with him so I decided to go fish... for an argument. This was difficult to do because while I knew he was ignorant, I didn't know what buttons to push to provoke his ignorance to come out.
So I gave it my best shot: "You didn't hear from me because you had an attitude the last time that we spoke and I didn't have a reason to call you back". I waited. I hoped that I pushed a button.
"I didn't have an attitude. I was just thinking that after our date went so well, you would call me the day after is all. " long pause "You must be spoiled if you don't like someone to say how they feel. " (getting warmer, time to hit him hard.)
"Are you insecure?" I threw out the question casually, as if it were okay.
"FOR WHAT?" (Jackpot!)
" I don't know but you sure seem that way, getting your panties all in a bunch just because I didn't call you in awhile." I said this coolly, even letting a little chuckle slip in there mid-sentence.
" I said..." He started.
"Look, I will have to discuss this with you later because I am at work right now." I hung up.
I later ended up telling him never to call me again over his answering machine which may have been the punk way out but I had no more energy to discuss a relationship that will never be with the bus driver.
So ends the story of the Lesbian Man aka The Bus Driver.
The Bus Driver
I remember meeting a guy on the bus after a messy break up with my baby's daddy.
He was actually driving the bus and he wasn't my type but I was more interested in how he was going to treat me. We went to the movies for our first date because I didn't want to feel the pressure of having to speak with him.
He was late in meeting me at the designated spot that we had agreed to, which was turn off number one. When I finally met up with him it was quite disappointing to see him standing up. He had on a triple extra large graphic t-shirt that reached just about three inches above his knees. His pot belly was protruding out of his shirt as if he were five months pregnant. His jeans weren't quite tight, but they weren't baggy either. He wore the same boots that were a part of his uniform to drive the bus. So much for fashion. I also realized that when putting my money in the terminal, I never paid much attention to his face. When I finally stood before him, I wanted to make a run for it. He looked like an overstuffed rat. His nose was large and shiny and his eyes were really narrow and sneaky-looking. However, looks aren't everything. I decided to hold out for the personality.
When we got to the theater, he was so close to my face that I could tell you what he ate for breakfast that morning. I was so annoyed with his repetitive gawking that I wanted to spit in his face. He continued his supposed-to-be seductive gaze as I pretended to be engrossed with the film. I was beginning to feel really uneasy. I couldn't even focus on the film. All that I could think of was the dud sitting next to me and staring me in the face. I was thinking how much I didn't want to be there with him and it was irritating. . I was becoming upset because I had no control over the situation. (FYI: I am a rehabilitated control freak).
"Why do you keep staring at me?" I asked with obvious frustration in my voice."Cause you so pretty, baby." He said like he was a victim of my beauty. I was not impressed. I didn't like him and I didn't like him looking at me either. His attraction to me wasn't doing either of us any good at all. To make things worse, the guy pulls his own snacks out of his pocket. Seriously, he was loaded with chips and chocolate and was chomping on everything he had in his stash.
"You want some?' He asked between chomps. I feared his hot breath would singe my eyebrows and fray my hair. Another whiff of his putrid breath and I was certain the coroner would definitely be in the building.
"No." I said while making my best attempt to avoid inhaling. I couldn't bear the cool ranch aroma. It was toxic.
"Do you want something?" He asked. I knew that he meant some of his raggedy-ass chips, so I declined. Then I became thirsty and asked him for a soda. We went to the concession stand and I told him that I wanted a soda and some gummy bears.
"Wait a minute now..." He paused to flip open his wallet. "Now I only got eight dollars and I want a soda too, so lets see how much that costs." (Is this guy for real?)
At that very moment, the decision was made that there would be no second date.
The ride home was a lot less trying on my nerves since he was more fixed on his driving than the dreamy gaze he fixed on me all night. When we got to my apartment, I had to restrain myself from flying out of the car like a bat out of hell. I wanted out. I wanted out so bad that I was salivating. I was hungry to get the heck out of his car. He was waiting for me to initiate the boundaries of our goodbyes and I obliged by granting him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. He returned the gesture. I giggled my way out of his grasp and headed for my apartment door.
I thanked God for great escapes.
I needed a break before I let him down easy so called him three days later on New Years Eve. He picked up the phone on the first ring. Our conversation was brief and tense. He was spewing attitude like a transvestite with a broken heel.
"Hey!" I said cheerfully. I wanted to sound upbeat although I was less than enthused to be speaking with him.
"How are you." This was a sentence. It was not a question. No, it was an accusation... certainly not a greeting.
"Good....good. I just called to wish you a Happy new Year because I didn't know what your plans were for the evening. I just wanted to catch you before the ball dropped. " I decided to make the conversation even more brief. I wasn't going to give him any obligatory time since he was acting like a woman scorned.
"Well I didn't think that you were going to call me today since I didn't hear from you in awhile." There was even more animosity in his tone. He sounded so feminine with that attitude that I began to feel like I was talking to a woman. He was really working my nerves and I was five minutes away from telling him so. Still I kept my composure, most likely motivated by guilt."It has only been three days, I just saw you three days ago. " I said this with certainty.
"Oh", he said sarcastically "only three days. I guess that ain't long to you." (O-kay! This dude was dying for the jump off. In case you don't know the 'jump off' means the moment when things get serious, feelings get hurt, and hands may or may not start swinging. Its basically the last straw and there are no rules after the jump off).
"Nah, " I said in most nonchalant and cold tone "three day's ain't long to me. Happy New Year. " I slammed the phone down and called it a night.
This man was thirty-eight years old. I was about twenty-two. Was he serious?
A week or so down the line, he called me at work. Why did I give this fool my work number... I am still wondering.
So, he called me at work and just starts speaking without making himself known as if I am supposed to remember his voice when I was all too glad to wipe it clean from my memory bank.
This time he sounded very cheerful, quite the opposite from our last conversation.
"I hadn't heard from you in awhile so I wanted to see how you were doing." He said. I interpreted that to mean: 'I'm insecure and I want to know where we stand.'
I didn't want to speak with him so I decided to go fish... for an argument. This was difficult to do because while I knew he was ignorant, I didn't know what buttons to push to provoke his ignorance to come out.
So I gave it my best shot: "You didn't hear from me because you had an attitude the last time that we spoke and I didn't have a reason to call you back". I waited. I hoped that I pushed a button.
"I didn't have an attitude. I was just thinking that after our date went so well, you would call me the day after is all. " long pause "You must be spoiled if you don't like someone to say how they feel. " (getting warmer, time to hit him hard.)
"Are you insecure?" I threw out the question casually, as if it were okay.
"FOR WHAT?" (Jackpot!)
" I don't know but you sure seem that way, getting your panties all in a bunch just because I didn't call you in awhile." I said this coolly, even letting a little chuckle slip in there mid-sentence.
" I said..." He started.
"Look, I will have to discuss this with you later because I am at work right now." I hung up.
I later ended up telling him never to call me again over his answering machine which may have been the punk way out but I had no more energy to discuss a relationship that will never be with the bus driver.
So ends the story of the Lesbian Man aka The Bus Driver.
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