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Laid back; chilled out.

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

INTO THE INNER RECESSES OF MY CRANIUM.

Women are crazy.

That is a well-known and universally accepted fact in the male world. [Of course girls think men are crazy, but that’s beside the point.] I’d give anything to understand what makes a girl tick. The more I think I understand women the more I realize I don’t. And you know what, that’s a great thing. I don’t wanna know what they’re thinking. It’d probably scare the crap out of me anyway!

There was this dude I knew many years ago. Skinny, medium-complexioned fellow, shao to the core, fresh off the boat. Off the plane, I mean. Good dude though, salt of the earth. We went to the same school and attended some of the same classes so we naturally became friends. He never said too much and had nothing else going for him besides his smarts but girls were always drawn to him – lucky bastard.

One morning he came in for that dreaded 8am class with that deer-in-the-headlights look. Either he’d pulled an all-nighter trying to get ready for an exam or he’d been running through the woods all night long – that bad. So I asked him what was up and he told me his tale of woe.

He & I and a bunch of other people always sat at the back of the computer lab. That way we could peep game, so to speak, and see everyone that came in or went out. Well, allegedly, he was the only one in the lab one night and was about to wrap up when this girl, a mutual friend, came into the lab, saw him sitting there and went to talk to him. They talked for a while, then dude went to show her something on his screen, probably some photo or something. One moment she was leaning over trying to look at the screen and the next she was sitting on his lap trying to get a better look. Dude was surprised [pleasantly surprised, I think he said] but didn’t think too much of it.

They finished up, got out the lab and discovered they were both famished. There was a nearby Burger King so they went there, crushed some whoppers and drove back to the parking lot; they’d taken his car to the BK.

He pulled up alongside her car and no sooner had he pulled at the handbrake than she pounced on him, literally. Apparently she’d unbuckled, reached over and turned the car off then straddled him. The steering wheel was digging into the small of her back so she reached for his reclining lever and pushed the seat, with him in it, down as far as it could go.
All this time dude was stupefied, rendered immobile by the sudden turn of events. He didn’t even get a chance to protest [or encourage, for that matter] before she went for the jugular and kissed him. Out of its own volition his mouth responded to her ministrations and in a quick minute the rest of him responded as well, to the point of no return.

Colorful, wouldn’t you agree? For once he was descriptive.

On his drive back home he was furious at himself for his weakness. Not that he didn’t like the girl – no. It’s just that his intuition gave him a terrible sense of foreboding. And he was right.

He went to school the following day and as soon as he stepped in through the main entrance she magically appeared before him and gave him a big ol’ wet one. He gently pushed her off saying he was late for some class. He started walking toward the classroom and she walked alongside him to his class, gave him another wet one and watched him go in as he wiped the lip gloss off his lips. Well, off his face is more like it.

Class ended and he walked out only to find her waiting there for him. He’s surprised but not alarmed – yet. It was about noon so they went to the cafeteria to grab something, after which she walked him to his next class, only to be there still when he got back out. He was starting to get worried now.

This escort service of sorts continued for a few days till he found himself trying to duck her. One day he didn’t attend a couple of classes and had told her he was unwell. He was at home nursing a beer enjoying his newfound solitude instead. The doorbell rang and there she was, talking about how she had been in the neighborhood and how the professor had asked her to relay to him details regarding some assignment. [BS, in short. She probably started with: “You see what had happened was….”]
She ended up staying till late, on the pretext of studying with him.

Then, he left work one night and there she was out there waiting on him. That was the last straw. He let her have it, talking about how stifling it all was. He didn’t mince any words; told her like it was. [After all, he was a young player in the game then and didn’t know how to bullsh*t his way through and, perhaps more damaging, didn’t understand the need for subtlety.] She got more than a little peeved at that and left him out there in the parking lot choking on her tire smoke.

The following morning she was waiting for him at school as usual and he’d gotten sick of that, and he told her as much. This time she got sooo mad she slapped him right there in the lobby and ran off.

He didn’t see her at all the rest of the day so he thought she’d finally let him be. Wrong. He was approaching his hooptie in the parking lot when he took a closer look at it and stopped dead in his tracks in astonishment – and rage, mouth agape and all. His black ‘89 Ford Escort was a sight to behold. It was keyed all over, one side-mirror was dangling by a single cable, the wipers were bent and there was a big ol’ dent on the hood like someone had thrown themselves at it, butt first.

Naturally he was livid coz really, you don’t mess with a man’s first car. That’s a lesser equivalent of a man’s first love – to me anyway. He stormed back to the campus looking for her but she was, predictably, nowhere to be found, so he went back to the parking lot and found the campus rent-a-cops out there scrutinizing his car. They could tell a girl had done it so they wore these silly smirks on their faces the whole time they were talking to him. He had no choice but to go home after that. The following morning is when I saw him in class looking all disheveled.

If that isn’t crazy, I don’t know what is. I love strong, assertive women but damn, that’s some psycho sh*t!

I’m not into stereotypes so I won’t dismiss the above incident as typical female behavior - no. However, I’ve seen perfectly level-headed, proud and beautiful women transform into tire-slashing, eye-gouging balls of fury so I will stick by my statement – women are crazy.

What?

25 comments:

Anonymous said...

And I will be the first to say, that Ol' girl was just waiting for a major "beatdown" each day. Lacking which, she sent dude a message he couldn't forget.

Women are wonderfully unstable creatures.

I keed.

But seriously, out here in these parts I've seen similar things from "assertive" sistas. It's a tad bit worrisome if you aint built for it.

That is, if you aren't built tough enough to slap a sista silly.

I keed, I keed

Anonymous said...

I like it when you are sprung

Anonymous said...

your somethin else d. was lmao! u write good!

Princess said...

This girl has definitely earned the title psycho.

Anonymous said...

I agree with u;we sometimes do some crazy sh*t that's quite unbelievable.

Sprung ha!........ ur posts have always been great but now that u're sprung, they're off the chain.Keep it coming!

Girl next door said...

When they said "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," this was the kind of woman they had in mind. Women can be extremely loyal, or if pushed the wrong way go nuts. This one is in a class of her own, terrorizing the poor guy.

Girl next door said...
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Girl next door said...
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Anonymous said...

those descriptions had me thinkin i'd visited hef's website or somethin...rn't those the pics u sent xris n I? Lmao...gotta say that ride looked jacked up. For real tho...she's psycho n i woulda cut her. BMORE style. (ps. notice u hyphenate BMORE- no one in BMORE does that nemore...)

|d®| said...

>Makanga: "Women are wonderfully unstable creatures" - I like that a lot.
There are some girls, one especially, that used to make me so mad I thought I'd implode.

>Ciiku: I hate being sprung. Thankfully, the feeling's ebbing as the week progresses. I'm almost back to normalcy now.

>Shaw: What can I say - I try. Thanks tho.

>Princess: Psycho doesn't quite cover it!

>BET: Ha ha, my being sprung has little to do with my writing, if at all! Inspiration - that's what it is.

|d®| said...

>Girl next door: Yeah, hell definitely hath no fury. That dude was a nervous wreck for the longest!

>D: Nah, that's a whole 'nother incident. Dang - I forgot about that one too; gotta go find that photo now!
And that's exactly the reason I slip that hyphen in B-More!

Anonymous said...

that's right. we're crazy. be very afraid!!!

|d®| said...

I ain't ever scared, so bring it on! You don't want none of this! Hmmm, or do you? ;)

Anonymous said...

you wish!

Anonymous said...

'sup sweetie... I think that you threw in the 'shao'red herring just to throw us off track. You're sure this ain't no >d® story? He he he.. Lakini there be psychos walking the street. B-more has more than it's share and we could swap stories. Their illness is not even in DSM-9 for all I know.

Excellent writing kama kawaida lakini so not buying that "friend of a friend"

|d®| said...

Impressive. You're too sharp for your own good. Well, for my own good.
Gotta have you on my team.

Anonymous said...

miss psycho sounds entertaining. i like her.

|d®| said...

I've got the hookup if you'd like! lol!

SisBigBones said...

hehehe...visit my blog, maybe someday you'll gain a little insight. i think i'm turning into one of those psycho chicks

|d®| said...

Just read yours - too funny! You're a piece of work; can't wait for part III!

Msanii_XL said...

a little late but that is some crazy shit..

I remember have this particular discussion with fam...

Udi said...

I told u to stop dealing with those chiles from Maragua who become stalkers. But did u listen to me? NOPE. NOw you have to pay the price. LOL

|d®| said...

>Msanii: It is, isn't it?

>Udi: ROTFFLMAO!

Anonymous said...

"Crazy" women cause alot more ruckus than crazy men... Of course there are those who burn houses, auction your possessions while you're at work, stalk you...that is just psycho.

|d®| said...

Hmmm, women love hard but hate even harder, huh?