Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Tales of the Lying Man

This past week I got a text from Kindred Spirit. For the record I had not heard from him in two weeks. But here’s the thing, clearly a better, sluttier, offer must have fallen through. Since he likes in BKLYN, offers 1-5, which were closer on the train, must have been busy. Offer six, which is farther away, must have had things to do. I must have been offer seven. Don’t tell me I have low self-worth. I already know that. At the same time that doesn’t mean I am dumb.
Here is how the text exchange went
Kindred: I have been thinking about you all week. How have you been?
Me: Well that’s a nice line of bullshit. However, it is good for my self-esteem. Thank you.
Kindred: April, you are crazy. I don’t blow smoke up people’s asses.
Me: That’s what they all say. I am sure you are making your rounds with the same line and I just happened to be door number 7. Maybe the next house will buy your sweetly laced horseshit.
Kindred: April if you are not busy tonight I would like to spend some time with you. I miss that little dress I saw you in the last time.
Me: Oh the better offer must have definitely fallen through. Besides I have other plans that don’t involve you already. Sorry.
Kindred: April, I hope you enjoy your evening. Sorry we didn’t get to meet up. Hope to hear from you soon.
Me: Whatever.
Okay, WOW. Then again, it’s better this way. This is the same man who put Biggie and Frank Sinatra on the same scale. Then he freaked when I quoted Married With Children instead of other philosophers. The second I quoted Camus he didn’t know who that was. He definitely didn’t like it when I professed my love for Emily Dickinson.
Then again what man does?
Of course there was the past with the ex-cons and married dudes. He was a little too judgmental being that he aint so Snow White hisself.
Oh and he would never understand the activism. 
Basically, Kindred was a fling to get over Holden Caulfield. I’m over Holden.
Besides, Chairman Marcus decreed that he didn’t spend enough money on me. Therefore, it was time to give him the burn notice anyway.

A steady diet of Sylvia Plath makes me ready for male blood

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