You Can't Make This Stuff Up: Shenanigans & What Nots

Picture It:

Omaha, Nebraska

199-2000ish

Disclaimer :

I playfully refer to my time in Omaha as a “bid”, but truth be told, my friends & family in Omaha ignited my freedom; and for them and those experiences, I am eternally grateful.

How-fuckin-ever…my dating experiences in my 30’s in the Midwest were especially challenging.

I don’t even remember what bar it was, but I’m sure it was close to downtown because it was supposed to be an open mic that evening & I was going to share a poem or two.

When I opened the door, I noticed the music was low and there weren’t many people there, so I sat facing the door by myself at the end of the bar and pulled my wallet & journal out of my tote and placed them in front of me. The bartender damn near broke his neck rushing over to me.

My whole body blushed and I swore my skin was pulsating. See I remembered him from the open mic the week before, and not for nothin, he was right up my alley. Tall, broad, dark and handsome. I was kinda hopin I’d see him again. And by the way he was rushin over to me, was it possible he was hopin to see me too?

So, I took a deep breath, opened my wallet, licked my lips and smiled. His eyes widened and he smiled back. Then he reached over the bar and took my hand. As he did so he leaned in and to say…

“I was tryin to get chu before you sat down. Ain’t no open mic tonight.”

I was so damn embarrassed I felt like he shot my face off with a bazooka. And typically, I wear my feelings on that same face. So, it was a good thing that the bartender mistook my embarrassment for disappointment and he then said…

“But stay & have a drink…on me”

And I did.

And we talked about music, & sports.

Exchanged opinions

Names

Numbers…

And I drove home kinda giddy because he wanted to pick me up for breakfast the next day, but to call him when I got home to let him know I was safe.

I thought that was polite.

When I called, he sounded genuinely excited and thankful we no longer had to talk over music and other bar chatter. We wound up choppin it up for another hour or two before he started playfully counting my yawns.

“Well now, Ms. Lady,” he said through a chuckle, “as much as I’m enjoyin your banter, that makes yawn number three. I’m already one yawn past my tolerance, so the next yawn…I’m putting you to bed, and I’ll call you when I get up.”

We laughed and conversed a little while longer until the dreaded

…fourth

He was a man of his word and made me hang up and go to bed. I fell asleep excited for eggs & home fries.

Yes, I am one of those weird people who love breakfast. Honestly, I think it’s because it’s the only meal I could afford to treat myself to because breakfast is typically inexpensive. I could also skip paying for expensive lunches everyday if I substituted lunch with a hearty breakfast.

But I digress.

I went to bed excited but anxious, because if y’all know anything about my dating history, or shit, my history in general , is that it’s chock full of disappointments.

When my phone rang at 10 am , I sighed with relief.

“Hey you…” I answered tryin to sound casual.

“Hey Ms. Lady…” His cool was cooler than mine because my whole body was blushin again.

“So you ready?” I asked while primpin in the bathroom mirror.

“Actually, there’s a problem with my car…”

Here we go…there’s always a fuckin problem… I said in my head but my mouth said, “That’s cool we…”

Before I could even fix my mouth to say, reschedule, he interrupted.

“I really wanted to take you out to a spot I know but I blew my engine out last night.”

Typical MiMi would’ve said something to the effect of, “Oh shit, that’s a shame, give me your address, I’ll come get you”…but…

…I didn’t.

Instead, I asked very matter of fact…

“How did you blow your engine out?!”

This

Bamma

Said

In

All seriousness

“Runnin from the Police.”