Monday, September 25, 2017

Water Boy

The guy that delivers water to my office is shady as fuck. When we first met I was completely convinced he was gay and I had a new best friend. We were absolutely going to go shopping together and he was going to be on speed dial for fashion emergencies; like whether or not I should be wearing heels or flats with my dress - or if in fact I could pull off a dope pair of sneakers.

Before you all get pissed off and up in arms about how insensitive I am…nah …I don’t care; you’d have thought and done the same if you were in my position. I pictured us walking side by side happily swinging shopping bags from our wrists as we sipped on smoothies while laughing at other shoppers as they passed by. My new BFF would foot the bill for most of my purchases because along with not having any taste, I also have no money and he’s a computer programmer on the side. He just delivers water to stay in good physical shape. Obviously!

He was a beautiful specimen of a man; 5’11” of dark flawless chocolate chiseled manhood. He had a perfect smile and the cutest little dimples. He would come into the office and after a period of getting to know one another we would joke around and spit lyrics to old 90’s Hip-Hop songs. He really was more flamboyant than my Uncle Hector and that very fine man dressed in drag at least twice a week. I have bonded with him. We are going to go dancing at some point, I just know it! I’m so excited. Maybe he’ll do my makeup.

I want to make sure I’m painting this picture appropriately: I have waged war with my co-workers - convinced Water Boy is gay and defending my Gaydar. I have planned excursions and concerts, sleepovers too and have considered letting my hair grow just so that he can braid it; I’m committed to this friendship. It’s real, yo! Remember those friendship necklaces in the shape of hearts? One friend takes one half and the other friend takes the other? Ok, so that shit was never going to happen because I’m not 13 yrs. old anymore, but it was like that. Swoon.

It came to be that one day at his behest we became Facebook friends. It seemed a natural progression at the time. We were already hugging goodbye when he came into the office. I’ll stop you guys before you say some dumb shit like: “why would you hug the water guy?” I hug everyone. I warn people when I meet them that I am hugger. If you have issues with needing personal space, you need to tell me that shit because unless you stink or you’re an asshole, chances are I will hug you. It’s just how I roll. So the two of us end up friends on Facebook and that’s when I decide I want to know what his shoe collection looks like. What kind of adventures can I expect to go on? Are there any pictures of him and his man? Maybe there’s a how-to on eyeliner application because for real, that shit has always stumped me. I inevitably always end up looking like someone with Parkinson’s disease tried applying it while in a moving vehicle [just having the disease isn’t enough to convey my ineptitude]. To my dismay and UTTER shock I found nothing of this sort on his page…
                               
Water Boy is married and has children! Hey dumb-shit, if you’re going to hit on women you may want to think about dummying up another Facebook account – one sans family. It was monumentally stupid to give me access to your life information. MONUMENTAL!! You’re so very lucky that I’m not in the business of hurting other people unnecessarily these days when it’s not my business. You ought to be fucking ashamed of yourself!!! You have 3 beautiful children and a lovely wife, numbnuts! When I confronted him about his family I got this: “Well, we weren’t going to stay together, but now I guess we’re working it out.” Oh, you guess you’re going to work it out? I’m sure your wife is going to be thrilled to hear that. It’s people like this that make me want to run around with scissors and cut the crotches out of all of their expensive pants and shit in their shoes. Now, in fairness, I know women can be just as crappy, manipulative, and self-serving but my experience wasn’t with a woman – it was with spineless Water Boy. I write what I know. I know my Gaydar is off.

You would think it ends there. Brace yourselves…

I’m forgiving as all get out, so in an effort to not have it be weird at work [and to be a complete pussy and really just avoid confrontation] I let the whole thing go and tell him he just needs to be professional and I forgive the transgression. A short time passes and I think things are cool. Then I get this message that basically thanks me for treating him like a human in spite of his bullshit. THEN THAT MOTHER FUCKER ASKED ME OUT AGAIN!!! WTF!! Shady ass piece of shit; I feel I ought to have shit in his shoes. He lives far away though and that’s a true commitment. Maybe if we were friends. I guess I really hurt his feelings on this last round because he posted some sad sappy shit about deleting his Facebook account. Oh, so sad…said no woman he ever hit on that found out the truth. I am so pissed! I was so looking forward to French braids and sleepovers. Fucker. He probably deleted it so I don’t contact his wife. I have no interest in destroying marriages, he’ll do that on his own – I’m certain of it.

This is not exclusive to men, ladies do this shit too; we’re just better at it. On second thought, I feel a bowel movement coming on and a 40 min drive sounds just about right. A little wind in my unbraided hair…
 Image result for office water dispenser


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