Pee-Pee Paul

I love my Lobster to pieces. (Just a reminder, my friend Linda is referred to my "Lobster" for the many times she and I have been there for each other. Regardless of the situation, we never leave each others' sides. Therefore, we refer to each other as "Lobster" because when lobsters find their soul mate, they link claws for life and never leave each others' side.) Lobster wants to see me in a happy relationship, and we once had a conversation where she thought it would be ideal if I dated a black guy. Where she came up with this theory, I DO NOT KNOW. During this conversation, she mentioned that she saw me with a classy, tall, built, light-skinned black guy.

One night, Lobster and I were at Santana Row on one of our many Lobster dates. We were hanging out at Straits, and this same conversation about myself dating a black guy came up again.

Lobster: I see you with a guy like THAT. *points to a tall, built, light-skinned, bald headed, sexy man*
Me: Okkkkk
[some minutes pass]
Lobster: No seriously! I see you with a guy like THAT. *points to the same tall, built, light-skinned, bald headed, sexy man*

This goes on for most of the evening until homeboy actually comes up to me and says, "My friend likes your friend. I like you. Let's talk."

Smooth. Really?! Ok, so for the hell of it, I sat there and talked to this guy. Through out most of our conversation, he was trying to get my number. He kept telling me that he hardly gives out his number, so I'm a rare case. (riiight. ok. sure) Lobster and I leave SRow, and I come home to see 6 text messages from this guy telling me how great it was to meet me, Lobster and I seemed like fun, he'll call me the next day etc etc.

So his name is Paul, and we chat for a bit the next day. I'm thinking there's really not much to talk to this guy about because our first conversation was about partying, food, where we're partying the next weekend, alcohol, and facebook. I add this guy on FB and his profile is pretty much about how proud he is of his body and his son. Excellent. We have a Mr. Wonderful on our hands. At best, I thought this guy was going to be one of my party friends that I occasionally run into and say hello to at the bars/lounges/clubs.

A few weeks go by, and I haven't really spoken to this guy. Eventually, he gives me a call and we start chatting about what we did over the past weekend. He seemed genuinely offended that I didn't invite him to come party with my friends and me, so I invited him to my birthday shindig at Infusion Lounge the next coming weekend. Without hesitation, he accepted and PLANNED on going. I was pretty surprised at how eager he was, but whatever.

Infusion night arrives. The night began with a lot of drama. At the time, I was somewhat exclusively dating Aaron. (That experience will be a separate blog entry. Oh how the stories never end =P) Aaron was being a total douchebag at Infusion. He ended up leaving early, and I really didn't care because my tall, built, light-skinned, bald headed, sexy man was coming and I was happy to have a nice arm accessory for the evening. I must say, his arms were looking mighty sexy in that white, Burberry polo shirt he was wearing. (For those of you who don't know, I have a thing for arms. There's something about strong arms that make me want to sink my teeth into a defined bicep.) It was my birthday soiree, so of course, I was quite the lush. Paul was following me around throughout the night, and (not to my surprise nor recollection) I ended up kissing Paul in front of everyone. Needless to say, I had a fabulous time at my birthday party.

Paul and I had dinner plans a few days after. He planned to make me dinner with wine. I head over to his place after work, and he's made dinner. He poured me a glass of wine while he drank out of his tall beer can, and we ate dinner on the coffee table. =T I'm not one to judge; I was just being observant. Afterall, there was a perfectly good dining table in the dining room, but we still ate in front of the television. Paul said he would turn off his phone so no one could reach him. I wasn't sure what to make of that, but I assumed work was the one harrassing him since he is an account manager.

He mentioned that a friend was going to stop by. This friend did stop by. They went upstairs and came right back down. That seemed a little odd to me, but I brushed it off. Eventually, Paul asked if I wanted to grab a movie. I said yes. We took a detour from the East side of San Jose all the way to the far South side, stopped by another "friend's" house to "say a quick hello," then we stopped by the bank, and then we went to Blockbuster. At that point, I had a HEAVY suspicion that this guy was slanging.

We came back to his place and watched the movie while chatting more. I found out he's 1/2 white and 1/2 black (pardon my somewhat politically incorrect lingo). He asked me to stay the night, and promised that we would just sleep. After some convincing, I caved. And sure enough, we JUST slept. I wasn't sure what to think about this guy because I could tell that he was really making the effort to be respectful.

The next day, he asked me what I was doing in the evening. I had plans to go to Santana Row with Lobster and friends. Paul asked if he could come, too. He showed up, and was VERY attentive to me. I wasn't really feelin Paul, but a girl always likes some attention. And I have to say that it was nice to get all this attention from a guy. Even Lobster mentioned that night that Paul seemed really into me.

Paul and I have a conversation at Blowfish, and basically, he admitted to dealing. (ummm NEG-A-TIVE!) At this point, I KNEW that all I wanted from this guy was some fun. Nothing more.

The next day, he asks me what I'm doing in the evening. I told him I was headed back to SRow because my roommate's friend is having a party. Paul tells me he's headed to downtown SJ. I'm pretty relieved because I REALLY did not feel like seeing this guy 3 days in a row. However, on our way to SRow, I get a text message from Paul saying that he and his friend changed their mind and are headed to SRow, too. Great. (Please sense my sarcastic tone.)

So we're at Rosie McCann's in SRow, and I see Paul. I just wanted to have a good time with my roommate, so I somewhat ignored Paul. He was probably thinking, "Why the hell is this girl not all over me?!" (Since he seems to think that ALL women swoon over him because he's so "foine") Eventually, he comes up to me and tells me that all his friends are wondering what's going on between he and myself. So for the rest of the night at Rosie's he kept grabbing me and making out with me in front of everyone. As we all know, I am NOT a fan of PDA! On top of that, he kept trying to instigate shit. He would tell me that these 2 girls were following he and I around and trying to take pictures of him. He repeatedly asked me, "What are you gonna do about it?" Each time I heard that, I thought, "Umm nothing, you dumb fuck."

I kept checking in with him to see how wasted he was getting. I asked over and over, "On a scale from 1 to 10, how drunk are you?" He said he was at a 5. Then a 6. Then a 7. Eventually, he got to an 8 (which means PLEASE no more or the next drink will get him falling down or blanking out).

The friend that he came with walked up to Paul and told him that it was time to leave because their ride had been waiting for 2 hours.

Paul: Well let him fucking wait then!
Friend: Ummm, okkkk. I'm leaving then.

More words were exchanged, and afterwards, I asked if everything was alright. Paul yelled at me and told me to "mind my own business" in his ape-like, bellowing tone. Then, Paul said to me, "I can' fuck wit chu no mo'!" Translation: I cannot see you anymore. (I think... that's the best i could do. I don't speak thug!) To that, I just kept on sipping my drink and walked away. But Paul grabbed my arm and told me: Hahahaha nahhh I'm jus playin.

I mean seriously, WTF, man!? He then told me, "I got chu all figured out. I got all women figured out."

Me: Oh you do? You've got me figured out? I can't figure you out!
Paul: Whut!? [Speaking right at my nose] You know what I want! If you don't know what I want, then you're fuckin blind. [Add in some beligerent slurring to that sentence].
Me: [Thinking] Are you fucking serious right now? NO, I do NOT know what the hell you want. Would you like some water? Some food? I mean, you always want food... WHAT!?

So we head back to my house because he has NO IDEA how to get to his car. The whole way back, he's basically kicking and yelling in the back seat saying how he needs to ride in a car where the driver is driving GOOD. What an idiot! I was sober; the driver was driving WELL! We eventually get back to my house and he's yelling at my friends to get him some food. Specifically, he wanted some Jack in the Box tacos! There isn't a Jack anywhere near my place, so my roommate went on an adventure with her friend to find homeboy some tacos. While they were out, he stomped up my stairs to my room complaining the whole way.

Once he got to my room, he started ripping off all his clothes. He threw his shirt at me and told me to hang it up. I was pretty irate and embarassed at this point, so I just slammed his shirt on my towel rack. He yelled at me with his thuggish ruggish tone and told me to "HANG IT UP!" So FINE! I did! And I was NOT happy to do so! Eventually, he passed out. Naked. On my floor. With my blankets. I went downstairs to get him some water, but when I went to give it to him, he just knocked it all over my dog, Cosmo, and me. So after being drenched in water, he started to snore, so I figured he was good for the night. He was passed out, so I turned on the light in my bathroom so he could find his way if he needed to, and I went to sleep in my bed.

In the middle of the night, I wake up to what sounded like water flowing. I wake up, and I see Paul peeing. ON MY CARPET. On ALL fours!! (Like a dog, minus the leg lift)

Me: PAUL! What are you doing!?!? Stop it!
Paul: [Looks at me with a crazy "I'm going to KILL you look"] Shut up! Shut up and stop! Just STOP!

Throughout the rest of the night, he tried to make himself comfortable, so he kicked over my bookcase and my fan. There's markings on my wall now from that night. I totally thought he was about to murder me. He's a big guy, and his muscles look lethal. He woke up the next morning, butt-naked, started laughing, and asked me WTF happened. I was piiisssssed, and when I told him, he laughed. He thought I was joking. Oh, no, mister! I'm dead fucking serious! I told him to look at the puddle on the floor if he needed evidence. He did, and he was embarassed. He told me that he had a steamer at home, and he would come back and clean up his mess. I was leaving for Vegas the following day, so I asked him to come by later that night to clean his pee mess. He did. It was late when he finished, so he and I fell asleep.

I THINK he figured out that I was 'game over' after what he did. I avoided his calls and texts for the next week. Eventually, he sent me a text that said, "Did I do something wrong? Why haven't you answered any of my calls or texts?"

Wow, what a genius. This guy was SUCH a tool. If you heard him speak, your face would be: O..O
At first look, you don't expect him to be as stupid as he is. He carries himself with confidence. He dresses very clean, very well. He doesn't dress like a drug dealer/gangster/thug from East Oakland or Crenshaw Blvd in LA. But once he starts speaking, ohhhhh MERCY! He's a prime candidate for next season's Tool Academy. He once told me that he lived in Illinois. Paul's pronunciation: Ill-in-oy-S. Actual pronunciation: Ill-in-OY. *slaps forehead* What an idiot.

Anyway, I responded to his message by calling him and telling him that ever since that awful night, I was pretty much done. Well, he was pretty butt-hurt from that convo, so he started getting defensive. He told me that if i ever see him around, I better not come up to him and tell him that I changed my mind... because THEY ALL do. I laughed at that, and I told him not to worry, because i won't be changing my mind. We get off the phone and he sends me a MEAN text saying that I'm a "wack ass bitch" and he "can't believe he allowed himself to be seen kissing me in public" and he's glad he "replaced me quick" because I need to remember that I was "just part of his team." OOOOOh! I felt the steam coming out of my ears! I wanted to say sooo much back to him, but I left it hanging. That probably pissed him off more. What I wanted to write back was:

Ok, look here you uneducated, sad excuse for a human being. Don't call me "wack" when you can't even spell "WHACK." You're a fucking chauvanistic pig! You think you're God's gift to women and that you know our gender so well, when you're soooooo not and you don't know shit! You think you're SO different, but you're a stereotypical nigga (yes, I dropped the N word) except for when it comes for below the belt, and THAT you are WELL BELOW AVERAGE. I have CLASS, an education, a pretty face (hehe yeah, had to throw that in there), a family who loves me, and friends who love me for who I am, not because I sell them illegal narcotics! What do you have? The attitude of a dude right out of jail, the face of an ape, the intelligence level of a 6th grader, muscles that you don't know how to even use, and a son that I feel SO SORRY FOR because he's being raised by an ass hole like you and will grow up to be just as sorry and stupid as his FATHER!!!

You know that saying, "Once you go b----, you never go back"? Well, I may have gone there... but I ran home, and HELL NO will I ever be going back. It's safe to say, this phase/chapter is closed.