Thursday, May 17, 2007

The kind you don't bring home to mom


The initial meeting: As he walked by you at the club his neck twisted unnaturally so he could get a better view of your body. His lips went "whit-who" to let you know he liked what he saw. He was surrounded by an entourage of "blue shirts," similar to his own, all giving him pounds the moment you looked their way. Your eyes wandered downward so you could make eye contact, but first you noticed the dangerous spikes on his head. That's when he swept you off you feet with: "You are BU-tif-full."

The final outcome: Ladies, let this guy find some other way to release his xtc-induced sexual tension. After a couple of dates, his "god's gift to women" mentality and his inability to separate from "his boys" will over power that initial attraction.


The initial meeting: He sits on the steps of an eclectic boutique, playing a bongo drum, with an American Spirit non-filter perched on his bottom lip. You stop to pet the friendly mutt at his feet. When you do, the scent of grass, dirt and trees fills your nostrils. He parts his dreadlocks enough to flash you a sexy grin and perk your curiosity.

The final outcome: You end it when you figure out his idea of a romantic night is rearranging the decorative rocks he has displayed on his coffee table and watering his five-foot-tall "medicinal" plants. Face it -- you don't have the same interests, move on.

The initial meeting: You are at the mall, when you hear someone shout, "Whatup girl!" You turn and spot him -- Sean John clothing, gold medallion, stiff rim hat with a "cigar" behind the ear, untied white sneakers... and he's walking right towards you, dragging his right foot.

The final outcome: Things get rocky when he starts calling you his "baby's momma," especially when he does it in front of your dad. But it's not until your wallet turns up missing that you decide you've had enough.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Sarah, your dread-locked man reminds me a little too much of the crowd outside my final college apartment. Falling asleep daily to the sound of bongos..ahh memories!

Anonymous said...

These guys are gruelsome!

Sarah said...

I compiled my experiences living in New Paltz to write that one -- including a few guys my friends dated (who had pet rocks, no lie).