During the little brother’s birthday party, I was receiving texts from, uh, let’s call him Hot Lips :
“Hey there, just got off. At Target. Long day…What’s up?”
“Lemme know if u wanna drop by during the week”
Which all this later turned into, “Why don’t you come over today?”
I hesitated, thinking this wasn’t such a great idea, but boredom got the best of me after the party. I decided I’d go ahead go over and then we could go out.
We talked on the phone, he sent a text with his address and then I was on my way.
Now, mind you this address didn’t include an apartment name or number. This information is somewhat key. He also lives in a city I do not frequent, nor am I familiar with.
I get to his exit, head north on the toll road, make all the proper turns and see a complex I assume is his.
I ring him up:
“What’s the name of your apartments?”
“They’re called Blah, Blah, Blah.”
“Oh, okay, I’m here. Do you live in the 1st or 2nd building?”
“There’s only one building.” –there were totally TWO buildings!
“Are you near *some landmark*?”
“No, what’s a *some landmark*?”
“No, I only see a Hampton Inn.”
“Oh, wait, here is it is. Can you come down and meet me?”
“No, just park by the *some landmark*”
At this point I become annoyed because I think it’s only decent to walk down and meet a sista, right? I mean, really! ...Don’t live there, never been there, have no idea where I am, why the fuck not!?
I hang up, but only after first getting his apartment number and more directions which include me walking up stairs.
I sit in the car, take a deep breath, trying to chill out a little.
I walk into the apartment building and see door after door, no elevator, no stairs. What in the world…
I go into another entrance, seeing the exact same set up. At this point, I walk back to my car, ready to say the heck with it and head back home. Forty stinking minutes back home!
I call one last time to say I’ve gone inside and can’t find where I’m going, to which I get a totally condescending reply, and this is where I get hood. Remember, I told you I got hood?
Okay, so I really wasn’t really all that hood, but I frankly let him know what I thought of him, his lack of manners in the situation, and how him walking down a flight of stairs wouldn’t bring him to his death. Then, he tried to get kind, asking where exactly I was and I told the son of a bitch I was already on the highway, heading home.
No more Hot Lips.
I figure if he was talking to me in the manner he did, his funky little attitude would only get worse. I’m truly thankful I never made it into his front door.
Guess there was a reason I felt the hesitation.