*I started writing this on Thursday night. It's Saturday now, and I've been tweeking and editing this thing for 2 nights. Ugh!*
It's almost 2am and I am writing on a school night. I have a sub gig, but it's not until 11:45 am. As much as I enjoy subbing, I cannot STAND going to bed and getting up early unless I want to. If I don't have to get up early, it's a cause for celebration. How do I turn up when I'm on Shellybird Time?
In my last post, I was ensconced in the struggles with subbing, or getting motivated to sub. Well that has passed...for the most part. I've been getting the 4 days per week that my school system allows plus working at Hammers, Nails, & Sh*t in the evening, and it is kicking my ASS. I never felt this worn out when I was subbing and working at RetailTopia last year, and I do a lot less work at HN&S, so what's up with that?
Speaking of HN&S, haha! Lemme just tell you this. There's this dude "Thomas" who works at the store. The fact that he's 9 years older than me--he's in his 50's--with 3 kids (how many mamas I don't know or want to know), makes him not my type in any way, shape, or form. Although I will admit that the closer I get to the reality of cat ladyhood, the less stringent I am with my requirements. I'm not into workplace dalliances, though. I've made that mistake a time or 5, so as a general rule, I no longer mix business with pleasure. This dude had been kinda flirty with me, calling me beautiful and gorgeous (color me appreciative, but unmoved), and after a few interesting-enough convos about work, God, and life asked me if I wanted to go out to dinner. I jokingly asked him if he was paying. He said that he would never allow a woman to pay for her own meal and would never take her out again if she insisted on doing so. I guess that makes him King of All Dudes. *insert eyeroll emoji* He tells me his number in this rapid fire way even though I wasn't near pen nor paper to write it down, and I don't remember numbers well, so there's that. I must admit that the Appleby's shrimp and spinach salad has been laying heavy on my mind for quite some time. HN&S is down the street from the Appleby's here and there have been evenings when the aroma wafting across the way of those skillet thingies made my soul weep, both for male companionship and for fancy food I don't have to pay for or cook. By the end of that week, I was sick with the allergy attack gets me every year when the seasons transition from summer to fall. The half-assed dinner invite was more or less forgotten, and he soon ripped his draws with me anyway, so now it's never going to happen.
See, I have this thing. I am a stickler for manners and sparing the feelings of others--total product of my raising and those Duso the Dolphin guidance sessions from elementary school.
A person's tone of voice and patience level carries a lot of weight with me. There is a certain way I speak to people and a certain way I expect them to speak to me. Where dating is concerned, what comes out of a dudes mouth and how it comes out can be a deal breaker. Don't judge me; I know I'm not the only woman who feels this way. But for those of you who don't mind, well, that's you. Honestly, that's why I never liked "The Honeymooners". The way Ralph talks to Alice? Nah, son. Just nah. Y'all can have that. But I digress. Thomas showed me his true colors on 2, actually 3 different occasions, snapping at me and raising his voice/storming off over little penny anty mistakes I made on the job. I mean, I am technically still a "new hire", you know. On both of those occasions I gave him the cold shoulder for a while after that because you're not going to flirt with me in one breath and talk to me like I'm the dumb, ugly chick amongst the sister-wives the next.
Another thing he did that pissed me off was trying to talk down to me. They play pretty decent music over the loudspeaker at HN&S. Thomas was humming one of the tunes one day and it was a song I liked so I was snapping my fingers. He tried to tell me I wasn't on beat (IMPOSSIBLÉ! I AM BLACK!). I think he was about to launch into a music lecture because he's a church musician, and well, that makes him an expert. While he was inhaling so he could expound, I jumped in and let him know that I am a trained musician, having played flute from elementary school all the way through high school--marching band and concert band. He looked right cheap then. I wonder if he's one of those "self-taught/play-by-ear" church piano players who bangs out every song like he's playing in a wild West saloon during a shootout. HA! That said, he's already used up his 3 strikes. NEXT time--and there probably will be one because he said himself that he needs to work on his patience*--he gets the stern "Here's what you NOT finna do" lecture because I am not the one and I am done.
The funny thing about all of this is that I suspect people at work are trying to ship us. I know for sure at least one guy is. Ev-er-y time he sees me he has to tease me about Thomas, as if we're already an item or close to it. Honestly, if you don't have anything more to say except the same stale shit every time you see me, a simple hi and bye will suffice. I guess me being a single middle aged black woman and him being a single middle aged black man makes us the perfect couple. Yep, that's all it takes....man, GTFOH.
*I'm guessing Thomas mentioning that he needed to work on his patience was his way of "apologizing". He said it in front of me but was talking to one of the other guys who was basically "hype man-ing" him through it. Dude, jr. high school is 30 plus years behind us--clean it up!
It's almost 2am and I am writing on a school night. I have a sub gig, but it's not until 11:45 am. As much as I enjoy subbing, I cannot STAND going to bed and getting up early unless I want to. If I don't have to get up early, it's a cause for celebration. How do I turn up when I'm on Shellybird Time?
In my last post, I was ensconced in the struggles with subbing, or getting motivated to sub. Well that has passed...for the most part. I've been getting the 4 days per week that my school system allows plus working at Hammers, Nails, & Sh*t in the evening, and it is kicking my ASS. I never felt this worn out when I was subbing and working at RetailTopia last year, and I do a lot less work at HN&S, so what's up with that?
Speaking of HN&S, haha! Lemme just tell you this. There's this dude "Thomas" who works at the store. The fact that he's 9 years older than me--he's in his 50's--with 3 kids (how many mamas I don't know or want to know), makes him not my type in any way, shape, or form. Although I will admit that the closer I get to the reality of cat ladyhood, the less stringent I am with my requirements. I'm not into workplace dalliances, though. I've made that mistake a time or 5, so as a general rule, I no longer mix business with pleasure. This dude had been kinda flirty with me, calling me beautiful and gorgeous (color me appreciative, but unmoved), and after a few interesting-enough convos about work, God, and life asked me if I wanted to go out to dinner. I jokingly asked him if he was paying. He said that he would never allow a woman to pay for her own meal and would never take her out again if she insisted on doing so. I guess that makes him King of All Dudes. *insert eyeroll emoji* He tells me his number in this rapid fire way even though I wasn't near pen nor paper to write it down, and I don't remember numbers well, so there's that. I must admit that the Appleby's shrimp and spinach salad has been laying heavy on my mind for quite some time. HN&S is down the street from the Appleby's here and there have been evenings when the aroma wafting across the way of those skillet thingies made my soul weep, both for male companionship and for fancy food I don't have to pay for or cook. By the end of that week, I was sick with the allergy attack gets me every year when the seasons transition from summer to fall. The half-assed dinner invite was more or less forgotten, and he soon ripped his draws with me anyway, so now it's never going to happen.
See, I have this thing. I am a stickler for manners and sparing the feelings of others--total product of my raising and those Duso the Dolphin guidance sessions from elementary school.
A person's tone of voice and patience level carries a lot of weight with me. There is a certain way I speak to people and a certain way I expect them to speak to me. Where dating is concerned, what comes out of a dudes mouth and how it comes out can be a deal breaker. Don't judge me; I know I'm not the only woman who feels this way. But for those of you who don't mind, well, that's you. Honestly, that's why I never liked "The Honeymooners". The way Ralph talks to Alice? Nah, son. Just nah. Y'all can have that. But I digress. Thomas showed me his true colors on 2, actually 3 different occasions, snapping at me and raising his voice/storming off over little penny anty mistakes I made on the job. I mean, I am technically still a "new hire", you know. On both of those occasions I gave him the cold shoulder for a while after that because you're not going to flirt with me in one breath and talk to me like I'm the dumb, ugly chick amongst the sister-wives the next.
Another thing he did that pissed me off was trying to talk down to me. They play pretty decent music over the loudspeaker at HN&S. Thomas was humming one of the tunes one day and it was a song I liked so I was snapping my fingers. He tried to tell me I wasn't on beat (IMPOSSIBLÉ! I AM BLACK!). I think he was about to launch into a music lecture because he's a church musician, and well, that makes him an expert. While he was inhaling so he could expound, I jumped in and let him know that I am a trained musician, having played flute from elementary school all the way through high school--marching band and concert band. He looked right cheap then. I wonder if he's one of those "self-taught/play-by-ear" church piano players who bangs out every song like he's playing in a wild West saloon during a shootout. HA! That said, he's already used up his 3 strikes. NEXT time--and there probably will be one because he said himself that he needs to work on his patience*--he gets the stern "Here's what you NOT finna do" lecture because I am not the one and I am done.
The funny thing about all of this is that I suspect people at work are trying to ship us. I know for sure at least one guy is. Ev-er-y time he sees me he has to tease me about Thomas, as if we're already an item or close to it. Honestly, if you don't have anything more to say except the same stale shit every time you see me, a simple hi and bye will suffice. I guess me being a single middle aged black woman and him being a single middle aged black man makes us the perfect couple. Yep, that's all it takes....man, GTFOH.
*I'm guessing Thomas mentioning that he needed to work on his patience was his way of "apologizing". He said it in front of me but was talking to one of the other guys who was basically "hype man-ing" him through it. Dude, jr. high school is 30 plus years behind us--clean it up!
