Nuthin' like a little drama to make the hormones flow and the blood pump.
Friday a.m. I met Nene in front of McD's on Third Ave in the Bronx, and we walked over to the Unemployement office. He was right... we were right to get there early because at 10:15 when the session started, the line was out the door. And that would have been the time I got there.
The civil service clerk, a very pleasant man who kept saying the room was hot, promised it would be easy... promised he wouldn't keep us for more than an hour. He saw my letter, that my benefits had been suspended, and said for me to see him after the session. He then talked about how bad the economy was, how he was seeing a very diverse group of people at these sessions, instead of the usual factory and manufacturing workers of years ago. He talked about how important it was to be prepared for interviews, the difference between a functional and a chronological resume, and what services that office had. He pointed us to a stack of papers... how to have a great resume, online jobsites. Oh, and he said beware of training programs. They're just out to get your government grant. That it happened a lot after 9/11. NOOOOOOOOOO, really????
And then he let us all go. No paper-filling-out, no counseling, no "profiling". I went over to his cube and he put in notes in the computer in my file and directed me to call Albany. And to open up every letter from the DOL. And that was that. For that, dearest taxpayers, for that you are spending your money. For that, my unemployment was suspended.
So then Nene and I walked around Third Ave for a while, window shopping for Kung Fu DVDs and phones, since neither of us had any money. That was it, my hot date, but I enjoyed every second. At 25, I was highly annoyed that most of what life boiled down to for men was sex. A particular bodypart, to be specific. All jokes and conversations begin and end there. At 43 it just amuses the hell out of me. Maybe because I have a son. Maybe because I know and accept that basically, it all comes down to a specific bodypart.
The following day, I had the pleasure of being in the same room as the babymama.
Ladies. Trust your instinct. Your gut, your dreams, your intuition. I'm telling you that if you think your man is cheating, you're probably right. If you think you know who it is, you're probably right. The question remains of course, what do you want to do about it, but I firmly believe that chicks have a sixth sense. When I lived with JerseyBoy, I had a dream I caught him screwing a blonde chick. I told him about it. At the time, I thought it was this one particular short-haired blonde chick but it wasn't, and so he easily denied it. When he left me, when I found out and got a look at a picture, it was in fact, a blonde chick. Just not the one I thought I dreamed.
And men... listen, if she starts suspecting you, either come clean in a hurry, or end the affair. Or make your break and make it clean. Cuz you WILL be found out. If she turns a blind eye maybe there's something she needs from you and so chooses to ignore, but I truly believe that she knows... somewhere deep inside.
I hadn't seen babymama in over a year, and hadn't paid much attention to her when I did meet her since at the time there was nothing other than friendship and loyalty in my feelings for Nene. Nothing jumped off with us until after she had put him out (and ladies, listen... if you think you still want him, don't put him out. There is such a thing as the "Clean Up Woman"). When it did jump off, she apparently became obsessed with my friendship with him, though there was nothing to really indicate anything. At one point over the summer, I'd gotten a text from him that "wifey said" to leave him alone. I was furious... because at that particular moment my contact with him was platonic (though the "edge" was there. It's always there.) but it amused me that she had me pegged. Regardless, I refused to talk to him for a while till he got someone else to call me and beg me to not pay attention to her.
Anyway. Time had sort of softened my memory of her and made her a little more attractive, particularly since Nene was in love with her. Because I care about him, I was inclined to be kind. When I walked in the room, I could feel she wasn't around yet, but I could also sense that sides were being taken... and they were on my side. People who are freindly enough but don't normally hold protracted conversations with me suddenly were quite engaging.
About halfway through the event, I suddenly realize the bitch is sitting on the other side of the Professor, who was sitting next to me. It was something I felt before I even saw. And by the way, special shout out to the ladies in my family; we often joke we "roll deep" and we do... when word got out that babymama would be there... they ALL CAME. Even Moodmagic Barbie. And of course the Diva, drama-junkie that she is. So I was surrounded.
Heh heh heh. Just thinking about it makes me laugh. Eyes never left me, no matter where I went. At first I kept a low profile, mainly cuz there was no reason to jump out front, but after awhile I went about life like I do, living normally, chasing TinyOne, taking pictures, being me. And then she decided to be where ever he was, and he kept trying to be someplace else.
And not really trying to toot our horn, here, but merely stating the fact that somehow when we're all together--Bigbear, the Professor, me, Moodmagic and The Diva, plus TinyOne and The Sun--we tend to stop traffic. I'm not sure what it is... maybe because we range in hues of brown from vanilla to deep chocolate yet we all bear resemblance to each other. We range in bodytype from kick-your-ass man-arms to tiny-petite, in style from deeply flamboyant red-stilletto-pumps-and-leggings to jeans-and-sneakers, hair from curly to straight, long to short. Attitudes from reserved and shy to talk-your-ear-bloody. The Professor, for all her shyness, barrels into a room with the authority of a police officer, with Bigbear as her bodyguard, the rest of us in tow. Once, we were in Chicago, walking through a mall. I was walking behind Bigbear and the Professor, watching people literally stop and stare. The security guard stopped me on the way out of a store and drawled "Y'all ain't from around here, is you?"
Saturday was no exception, and I could feel the tiny room get smaller and smaller as Bigbear and the Diva began to expand. I needed to get out of there in a hurry, because I could feel babymama on the outskirts slowly trying to pull herself into a conversation with one of us, and I wasn't playing that. I have no bad feelings, truly. But I didn't have to be nice. So I left.
When I got home, I got a phone call from Nene. I guess he was checking to see if I was OK, though what he said was "You left without saying goodbye!"
But I was fine. And now I will toot my own horn and say that babymama wasn't having a good "face" day... and I was. I'd worked pretty hard at having one. Like Billy Crystal said "To look good is to feel good", and baby, I was mahvelous.
Best damn fun I've had in years...