2007-03-03 - 11:49 p.m.

Yet another sign that I need to focus on listening to my gut in 2007:

I met Long Haul Trucker (LHT) aka Big Boy #1 the same night I met Big Boy #2 (who turned out to be a STALKER). In lieu of Big Boy #2's stalking tendencies, I decided to erase LHT's number from my phone before any action was taken on my part (ie, I made a phone call to him). I didn't feel any chemistry with him upon meeting him and he really threw me off when he gave me one phone number but told me to erase that one and take down another one - he was "so used to saying his brother's phone number" that he got confused, right?

Riiiiggghhhttt....

So imagine my surprise when I received a text message this afternoon from a number I didn't recognize. Not one for the "who is this" line of texting, I attempted to search my memory bank to see if I could recognize the number at all. I have a bad habit of remembering pieces of phone numbers, if not entire phone numbers, if I had the opportunity to see the number with my eyes. Even if I don't want it to, the number sticks in my head and won't move out. If I saw it with my eyes, it ain't goin' nowhere. I try to have folk type the number in my phone themselves but that ain't always how things happen so... Come to think of it, that's probably why I can't remember other important stuff like studying for the G.RE or filing my taxes - there's just not enough space for it all!

But anyway.

So, yeah. I get the text and realize that it's from LHT. I reply in a moment of complete and utter boredom (been laid out in the house ALL DAY from this stupid Sinusitis which refuses to go the hecky away!). After a couple of texts expressing that I don't really have a voice to speak with tonight (I was told by damn-near everyone I spoke with today that I sound like I'm near-death.) and in general, I'm not up to going out tonight, ya boy pops off with:

"Let me be upfront - I stay with my peoples."

SKRRRTTTT!!!! FLAG ON THE PLAY!

'Cause I KNOW this fool - the same fool who was PUSHING UP on me in the club and would not take "LEAVE ME ALONE, I'M MEAN" as fair warning - ain't tryin' to tell me that he got a family, which is exactly what I imagined about him when I first met him based on what I've heard about those "Long Haul Truckers" enough times to believe it...

So I asked him what he meant by his "peoples". (Still using text 'cause ain't no need for me to begin to cuss his trifling self out with my hoarse voice.)

His reply? "You know what I mean. I understand if you want to stop communication at this point."

HA! Boo, there is no need for you to understand anything but the sound of my foot connecting with yo behind (I'm tryin' to give up cussin' for my Fast) on behalf of your WIFE and CHILDREN. Please believe.

I told him, "Well, thanks for the honesty. Maybe the next chick."

Nee-ga-row, PAH-LEEZ! You MUST be crazy or smokin' on a silly stick.

I would have been highly upset had I even started to give in to his antics that night at the club, but I hadn't. I just wasn't in the mood to even be flirtatious. I guess all that serious attitude I was giving was working against me by turning him on (it never seems to work!!!). So he lucky I didn't even pay him no doggon' mind. And he would have made my life so much happier had he never contacted me in the first place and left it in the past in the first place.

I just can't stand that level of triflingocity. It just infuriates and disgusts me. Yuck! Gross!

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