Back in JANUARY, I was hanging out at a Starbucks waiting for my skinny, tall, peppermint mocha with soy, no foam or whipped cream, when I was literally HOLLERED at by a man sitting in the far corner,
Him: *in a voice with deep booming, terrifying bass* AY YOOOU! COME OVA HEE! *demanding and insistent rather than flirty and suggestive*
Me: *terrified for my little body and life at the gigantic black man I see yelling at me in the coffee shop in front of all these people* Hi…hello. How are you?
Him: *getting louder* I SAID COME OVER HEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Me: (AAHHH OH MY GOD RUN FOR YOUR LIFE JAYLA WHERE THE FUCK IS MY MOCHA WHY IS IT SO IMPORTANT TO ME RIGHT NOW?!?!?! *getting out pepperspray* Yes….? *as I begin to walk over, now stopping a few feet away as to not get close to this man and the possible end of my life*
Him: You’re real fuckin cute YOU KNOW THAT?!?!?!?!?!
Me: *timidly* Hehe…thanks.
Him: Gimme your number yo.
Me: No thank you sir I’m not interested.
Him: *with everyone now staring at us* JUST GIVE IT TO ME!
Me: *HATING that I’m now put on the spot and giving in cuz I’m scared for my life and possibly clinically retarded at this point due to the fear pulsating through my veins* Uhhhhhhh SEVEN THREE TWO!!!!!….
After leaving the Starbucks that day, this has been my relationship with this man thus far, who did tell me that his name was Best. In my book, Best has yet to come into my dating life, and thank God for that.