Very Sexy

Went shopping today. That was fun. Me and my girl Dre went downtown and kicked pavement for like three hours. My little happy ass went bananas in Best Buy and spent a hundred fifty dollars in fifteen minutes. Money well spent though. Then we headed over to Victoria's Secret.
If you've ever been in a store where the ground floor emplyees are paid solely on commission, you know exactly where I'm about to go with this. Having just stepped out of Macy's I was still in Bitch-step-on-me-and-die mode. By the way, to all my New Yorkers, what the f*ck is going on with the cowboy boot explosion? Them badboys are not sexy. I went in there looking for a pair of boots and all I saw were these Daisy Duke lookin sh*ts laying around. Disappointed? Um, yeah. Being that Texas doesn't even count as a real state, why are we trying to look like those clowns? Come on. This is NY. We're supposed to be the capital of the world. Take those tired shoes off the shelves please.
Damn, did I digress or what?
Anyway, we get in there and seeing as its tourist season, there were close to a million people inisde. Dre works there so she gets to go in the employee entrance. I.E. she skips the drama of trying to get in the front door. I was accosted by various employees before I made it fully inside. Add to that, they have those annoying ass revolving doors. I don't go through those unless there is no other way to get in. I had a bad experience.
"Ladies, get your Dream Angels!"
"Don't forget to visit the Very Sexy Collection!"
"Very Sexy Teddy Bear with purchase!"
I had to stop and look back when I heard that. I love Teddy Bears, always have, always will. (@ RubbaBandMan#1 keep that in mind. You've been trying to get with me for months and you need to start puttin in work. Teddy Bears are the way to Babygirl's heart.) *Laughing* Put on nigga on blast right there, for real. Back to the story.
So I finally get past the crowds and get upstairs where I see what I need: Panties. (Batman, I'll be sending you the bill.) I get what I need and catch my girl at the register. She reminds me I need to get sized up. I was thinking about it when I remembered Vickie See's doesn't carry bra's in my size. Bastards. Just one more D and I'd be straight. I'm cursed. So I told her I'd wait until next time. That was a bald faced lie but I wanted to get the hell out of there before I spent anymore money.
As we walked back down the stairs, once again came a barrage of people who were looking to get that little bit of cash for their holiday. Ole girl lifted that Dream Angels and hit me right in my mouth. Now, pre Anger Management me would have been dragged out of there by Security and led into the nearest paddywagon after setting the bitch on fire. Post Anger Management me smiled politely and said, hey, let me get some of that. Smelled hella good too.
I must admit I was looking rather good today. I had on the big ass Jackie O shades, I hate people looking at me. Typically, when you think you look good, so does everyone else. Some dude felt the need to speak to me as we were walking away from the Macy's.
Look at you, movie star!
I smiled at that. And then...
Yo shorty, what up? Come here, yo.
As he giveth, he taketh away. I rolled my eyes and kept it moving. I had a half a mind to go back and give him the same rap I give every other one of these bum ass niggas out here. Happened last week. This is exactly how it went:
Him: Morning. How you doing?
Me: I'm fine, yourself?
Him: Better that I'm talking to you.
Me: That's nice.
Him: So what's up wit you?
(I'm really not a morning person so all this talk was getting to me. Had he caught me at five that afternoon I may have given him a prettier response. Besides, this slow ass Starbucks clerk was killing me.)
Me: Nothing at all.
Him: So can we talk?
(At this point I looked down at my watch. I was in a rush and homie looked broke.)
Me: I don't think so.
Him: Why not?
Me: Because if you were my man, you'd be at work right now.
My sister asked me why I said that, it was mean. I gave it to her straight. Every man I have ever dated has been a deluded, broke, unambitious, lazy bastard. I have not many good words for any of them. Just because you have one the latest this and the latest that is not a reason to talk to me. Ooh a chain. Whoopie twango. I'm out for Number One in the dating world from now on. I can give my man the best of me and I'm accepting absolutely nothing less in return. If you can't take care of yourself you damn sure can't take care of me. My next (if it ever happens because at this point these cats need work) is going to be the shit. Until then my ass will be SBC. She doesn't get it. But then again, she wouldn't.
She thinks my standards are too high. I don't think so. All I ask for is respect, a job, a goal, no kids, a place to live where you don't have to ask to go out after nine, and honesty. I say his own place for a reason I don't think I've revealed to very many people. When I go see my guy I like to be alone, get away from the hustle of my own crazy ass apartment. All them brothers? What?
Why don't you move out? she asks. I would love to move out. Truth be told, unless my man asks me to move in with him or I get married, I'm not sure I'm going to move out.
Why not?

Don't laugh.

For real, don't laugh.

I'm scared as red f*ck to live by myself. In all honesty, all the sh*t I talk and all the ass I've kicked, its the straight up truth. I am so used to having people in my house that living alone scares the hell out of me. I hear those stories about what happens to single women and I'll be goddamned if I become a statistic. So until I can afford my twins (http://www.sigarms.com/products/classicfullsize-models.asp?product_id=40##) I feel safe and secure at home. The two tone in case you're wondering. Ain't they sexy?