Oh Daddy!

My first few days at El’s, I had to do what I’ve gotten good at, CLEANING! There isn’t space to put anything, my bags are on top on boxes here, my stuff still in bags, hot mess! He promised to get me a rack where we can hang my stuff. But, DADDY, wouldn’t we need space to put the rack first? #RhetoricalQuestion. Rack never came anyway, so. The closet is not full, we could put some of my stuff there. Thing is, there’s no way of accessing the closet, there’s stuff in front of it. His uniform, a few Levi’s jeans and T-Shirts hang outside the closet, did I say hot mess? I mean, Perry’s was in a state but he has nothing on El. I did try to clean, nonetheless. I vacuumed the entire house, including his mom’s. The entire house looked like it hadn’t been vacuumed in forever, or cleaned in that period of time.

Trust me, I’m not a neat freak at all. I like a lived in place, but these houses are just in a whole another state! I have never seen houses in that State anywhere else I have been in the whole world, granted I haven’t been to that many places, but I was all over Georgia and to a few parts of South Africa, never ever would have made up the state of these houses! When they got home, Sister didn’t say anything, I didn’t want or expect her to. El did thank me for tidying up. That was nice. He told me he owed me a Tommy’s burger. Those are his favourite burgers, whenever he “treated me” to them, he really was just treating himself, but ok, whatevz DADDY. One day, I just had to say, NO, I don’t want another Tommy’s burger! Why don’t you get me something I like? Or ask me what I want, instead of treating yourself to a Tommy’s burger every time, I do something nice!

Sister and I continued to bond during the day whenever her Very hungry man, aka DZADDZY was at work. I had to beg daddy to take me to the Laundromat to do his laundry, I couldn’t stand him wearing that dirty uniform any more. He finally gave me some money, I wanted to use my own, but he insisted, he told me he wasn’t Perry, he was going to pay. I don’t know why he had to bring someone down to lift himself up. Perry doesn’t wear dirty uniform to work, he doesn’t wear uniform, he’s self employed and he wears clean clothes when he goes out to see clients, and he has a laundry in his house. Anyway, Sister and I took a drive in her Van aka House to the Coin Laundry. The cats were chilling at the back of the van on top of a pile of stuff. She had everything from everything to it all in there. I mean it is her house, so yeah. Just as packed as the apartment. She made room for me in the passenger seat, turned on the radio and we sang along. Fun times, whoot!

We forgot to take detergent with us, so we had to buy some,  She ran across the street and got us some, we did a few loads, hers (including dish towels, yuck!), ours, and the mom’s. I don’t get why people wash their dirty clothes, underwear and all with their dish towels. That is something I can never get used to, ever! Why not use your bath towels to dry the dishes while at it? Anyway, I personally never use the dish towels for my own sanity. While waiting for our laundry, we went next door and grabbed us donuts. Yumness! She treated, which was nice. She got us a donut each. It was dinner time, I was hungry, I went back for another donut, she gave me this speech about the amount of sugar in those donuts, the calories, fat, weight, fat, Fat, Fat, FAT. STFU! Nobody cares, mind your own business! For that reason, I went an got ANOTHER donut, just to spite her, she could’ve died, she was like, are you sure you don’t wanna just get an onion bagel and split it in half with me? No, Btch, I don’t want an onion bagel after eating a sweet donut, plus, I hate onion, the Fck’s wrong with you? Of course I didn’t say that to hear, but I sure thought it!

I tell you, she freaked out so much, she could have grabbed it from me and flushed it down the toilet if she could. Woulda, coulda, shoulda! She bought a diet pepsi, drank it half way and I don’t know what happened, but it disappeared. That was the highlight of the night! Seeing her look for her half full glass of Diet Pepsi hahaha! She never found it. She bamed the Mexicans for it. I don’t blame her though, they were the only other people in there. She and her brother aren’t really tolerant to races other than their own, white. Let alone that her brother dates black woman and cries when he sees black people suffer on TV. All a facade!

When El sees a black or “brown” (Latina/Hispanic/Mexican) person on the sidewalk (pavement) wanting to cross the street, he stops for them and stops talking (cos he’s always talking, he loves the sound of his own voice). He shuts up for a second so he can hear me clearly when I compliment him for being a nice person for stopping for these poor, previously disadvantaged people. What do I do? I say nothing. Mum! What does he then do, he wants it so bad, he can taste it, in this case, hear it, from his own mouth, he unintentionally utters, “that was nice!” I ain’t kidding you! He compliments himself! I juuuusssttt! I can’t even! I just go, ARE YOU KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW? Didn’t you just say that to your own self? He’d then say, “no, I meant it’s nice that he ran across the street. He didn’t want to keep me waiting for him cross?” PLEASE?!!?!?! Whatever! I can’t even deal with you right now! He has done that on numerous occasions! I refuse to call him nice for doing that, sorry. Not if he’s doing it for the compliment, I apologise! He might as well call me the most negative person he’s ever met, I don’t care. I choose that to calling him nice for that! That’s preposterous. By the way, he has called me the most negative person, no hair off my back!

We went back home, just in time for Sister to fix dinner. She had to be the one cooking. It was her thing, El told me that before I even moved in that I could fix myself whatever I wanted but she was the cook of the family. Even though she isn’t any good, according him, you know him and his back handed compliments,  he was a much better cook, again, according to him. He’s also the better singer, like how he cried so much at their beloved brother’s funeral, not because they lost him but because Sister sang at the funeral and sucked so much, the pain of hearing her sing was worse than the loss itself and the loss was great! Ok El!

Trying to find something nice to type about El..... Give me a second, or two......

He wanted me to sell some of the stuff that’s filled up the apartment. He asked me to open up a bank account under my name for that. I went online, compared the different banks because he didn’t want me to just use the same bank I bank with. I’m happy with it, so why not, right? I could just get a second account with them, no questions asked. He told me he specifically wanted BOA (Bank of America), they apparently have better rates or whatever, they don’t! I looked them up on the GPS, they seemed close enough. 15 minutes walk from the apartment. I walked there. Couldn’t find it, kept asking people for directions, everybody pointed me to a different directions. My GPS pointed me to another, what in the heck! I was trying not to get frustrated, some people, majority of the people I asked directions from, didn’t speak English at all or not enough to help me, even though they really wanted to help. Until this one guy was like, come with me, I’m going to that direction. Score! I tried to walk with him. He was walking so fast, I was tired at that point and I have this thing, that I loathe, that comes and goes out of the blue of having my skin itch to a point that it stings when I walk. Not all the time, so even though I have had it all my life, it’s not always on my mind, because, it comes and goes, I hate it! Know what I’m talking about? I sometimes have it when I am on a treadmill. Anyway, My whole body was tingling, I couldn’t walk anymore. The guy thought I was being lazy. I asked him if it were in walking distance, the bank, or if I should take the bus. He talked me it was a few blocks away. It was another 15-20 minutes away! When I finally got there, I was like Elvis better appreciate this! They gave me their rates, they were more expensive than my bank and wanted a whole lot of stuff and El didn’t want me to open up the account right away, blah blah

I was definitely not going to walk back! I took the bus back. Fortunately, the stop was right outside the bank. I got to the bank just in time! I was one of the last people in before they closed. Imagine if I had missed it? I went to the donut store on my way home, treated myself to a couple, without anybody judging me, and munched on them on my way home. That was my treat every now and again. When El got home, I told him about the nightmare trip to the bank, his response,  “don’t worry, daddy will take you to the bank tomorrow, he’s off anyway.” Uhm, I just got back from the bank! Daddy wants to go himself. What a jerk! All that for nothing! Thanks El

We went to the bank the following day, we went to a few different ones. He collected pamphlets from all of them, which he never looked at. He bought a packet of disgusting cookies and ate them all up by himself in the car with me sitting right there. I didn’t want them, but he could’ve offered. Plus I have the money to buy myself cookies, or whatever I want, it’s just the principle of it, DADDY!

My sister had told me of a sister of her best friend’s who lives in the US, has been here for years. She gave her my number and got hers for me to call her if and whenever. I called her that day, while daddy was doing his bank runs. We talked for a while, she had gone through the same stuff I had in Connecticut with our very “friendly” South African “friends”. It was nice to finally talk to someone who got it, got it, you know? Daddy got back, I had to go. I didn’t wanna be that person who was talking on the phone in a foreign language, he told me he didn’t mind. Yeah, sure! Or should I say, that was nice?

The bank account was never opened.

My sister’s friend’s sister lives in Utah, you know the Mormon State? Hashtag ChurchOfJesusDayOfLatterDaySAint

Daddy this, Daddy that!

We watched a little bit of Idol with Sister when she was done cooking, before El got home. I must say, I wasn’t dying for him to get home that day, unlike the day before. He got home a couple of hours or so thereafter. We hung out in the living room, I went to bed, Americans don’t go to bed like we do, like between 8 and 10pm, they stay up until 1/2am, partly because they have totally different working hours here.

Not too long after moving in with El, he told me he wanted to buy a tv and out it in the bedroom for me. He didn’t want me to be stuck “with Psycho sis” in the living room. I thought that was a nice gesture,but I really don’t need a tv. If I have internet, I’m good, I watch whatever I want online anyway, no commercials. I watch Commercials in South Africa, because there’s a chance I’m in one of them ;)

Anyway, one night, he took me to Sears, his work, it was a good 30 minute drive. On our way there, I told him  I was hungry, he stopped by some fast food restaurant, he bout us two fish burgers, and told me he wanted me to try their potato wedges, they are the best “according to him” we got there, only ordered the burgers, I thought, ok, maybe we will get the wedges some other time. I didn’t care, I just wanted to eat, something, anything. They gave us one burger, as we drove off, I asked him if we didn’t pay for two. We did, he made a U-turn, rushed back to the place, as he pulled up  by the window, the guy had our burger in hand. El said, “I want something for my trouble!” Ugh, why! So embarrassing! So cheap! They offered him something from their dollar menu, he already had something in mind, the wedges.  They made gave us some. I was dying with humiliation.

He was so proud of himself, ‘you see, daddy is very smart’ Yuck, stop that! Stop referring to yourself as daddy, that’s weird! WTF. He told me to take one and try it out, he ate the rest! Again WTF, what kind of a daddy does that to her only daughter, smdh. The fish burger was good, I mean it was ok, two for $5. We got to his work place, I had to wait in the car, not sure why, but ok. This is like after 9pm. He was in there for a good hour or so. He came back with a cute little 32 inch tv. Samsung. I had to thank daddy so much for buying that for me.

WE put it on the chest of drawers, he watched American Idol that very night. It was still audition episodes. We had the light off and just watched, well, I was on my laptop, he was watching and eating both our dinners. I remember feeling his hand grab mine, he directed my hand to his eyes, he was crying. It was over a black guy who was homeless and used to sing for quarters in the subway in NYC, he made it through to Hollywood round. I didn’t care. El obviously cared enough, or more than enough. I was like what are you doing? “See, daddy is very sensitive (FAKE), he doesn’t like it when people suffer,blah blah blah yada yada ya”. His sister had told me the day she was offloading, that he likes to cry whenever he sees black people suffer, he feels nothing for his fellow white folks. It means nothing to me, and I’m sure I speak for the entire black species when I say that. It really does nothing for me. It doesn’t make him love him any more. In fact,  on the contrary cos he comes across as fake when he does that. The fck you cryin about? STFU. I’m black, and I’m not crying, what are you doing? #racist

From then on, whenever he is in the living room or working on his computer, he changes the channel on the big TV in the living room and forces the sister to watch whatever he wants, when he is in the bedroom, he does the same there. Well, he doesn’t have to change the channel cos I just don’t use the tv. So whichever channel he left it on, is the channel he will find it on when he turns it back on. He didn’t buy that TV for me. He doesn’t do anything for anybody else but himself. Even when we go grocery shopping, and he says oh yeah here’s my sister’s list, stuff for mommy, blah blah blah, all that stuff is going to his gut. He’s gonna eat it all up, before they can say Food. Give me a break! “Daddy bought you a TV” my s.

When he asked me how it went with her sister the day we went out together, I had to tell him. I really was torn about it, but I had to tell him, just in case, that was some kind of a test. I didn’t want to be kicked out, homeless in LA, that would have made for a good blog but I wasn’t ready for that. He didn’t seem surprised, there is this thing about El that I can’t really describe. When he is supposed to show appreciation or is supposed to be surprised, he won’t show it. He will act like whatever, who cares. It’s a very holier than thou type of attitude and it gets to me but I say nothing because I also don’t believe in showing a reaction especially when someone does something hoping for one. He just said, I told you! She is the most...... the most unappreciative, blah blah blah person, you will ever meet. I want my money back! Apparently, the deal was that she was supposed to pay him back when she got paid. I don’t know why the both made such a big deal out of the car thing if she was going to pay him back whatever money he used to fix her car. Anyway, I didn’t really know these people. Still trying to figure them out.

Of course I felt bad that I told him, but it’s what it is, isn’t it?

To Tell or Not to Tell

Elvis’ hours are from 1-ish until tenish pm. That’s the whole day at home, stuck with sister dearest! He called before he got off the first night and told me he would be home in an hour. It had been a long day, a call or two halfway through his shift would have been appreciated. By the time he got home, dinner was ready in the kitchen, sister had cooked. Salmon Croquettes, some veggies, mash potato. Into the main door, to the kitchen, then to the bedroom. He walked into the bedroom with a 2litre bottle of Diet Pepsi in hand, drinking straight from it. He asked me about my day, I was so overwhelmed, I told him everything. He was like, I told you, she was going to bombard you with those stories. I will tell her not to bug you with these ever again. I begged him not to. I didn’t need any awkwardness, he asked about my day, that was my day. That’s it!

We all watched American Idol, they, El and Sister know all the songs, they sing along, it’s kinda like a competition. I got over it and went to bed. The following morning, we were chilling in bed with his eyes closed as they always were when he wasn’t watching tv, eating or driving. Or at least whenever he was talking to me. I asked him how old he was. He changed the subject more than once. He told me he was as old as I knew he was. I was like, so you’re 65, he said yeah that too. He’s not 65 but he might as well be what with all the lying about his age! So the age thing was never formally addressed and no apology or remorse for lying about it. Nada!

On his way to work, in his dirty uniform, he only has two uniform t-shirts for work and two pants, I think and works five days a week, some off days, laundry never gets done, so that’s a lot of mileage on that uniform. Yuck! Anyway, he would take me with him to the store, The 99 cents only store, to grab a few things and take home with me. Usually, those were a few bottles of Diet Pepsi and whatever else we  they needed around the house. I was glad to be the heck out of that dumpster, I didn’t care where he took me or where I had to go.

So over it that, I brought up to him that I needed him to leave me keys when he went to work, he made me my own set when we went to Wal-Mart. We only went to one Wal-mart. In a black beighborghood. He wanted me to see the negativity amongst Black Americans. I automatically took offense to that, my guard was up and I was NOT going to see any negativity, just because it came from a white person, who has absolutely no bragging rights! Plus, I told him, if that place were so negative, why not go to another one then? One in a white neighbourhood. It’s Wal-Mart, they’re at every intersection! NO, DADDY WANT YOU TO SEE WHAT HE IS TALKING ABOUT. Fck me!

He told me that wasn’t just his opinion, he had taken a few of his black exes there and they also agreed. THEN STOP FCKING GOING THERE DUMB ASS! WTF? We went in. His demeanour changed immediately! He started walking like there was wind beneath his wings so to speak, tall and holier than thou art! He was holding my hand like, yeah mutha Fcker, she’s with me, what! What! Ugh, kill me! He was kissing me, he would stand in the middle of nowhere with lots of people, black people around us, hold my chicks and plant a huge one on my lips. Bleh! Those people paid him no mind. It was all in his mind. People in that neighbourhood are too poor to care. I didn’t pick up any negative vibe from there, just that it was a poor neighbourhood, that’s all.

We got a few things, stuff for Sweetie Pie (his mom), his sister, and himself, he asked what I wanted, I told him, I was good, thanks. I was ready to get the heck outta there. He got me my spare key and a battery for a watch an ex bought me many many years ago. Thanks 123! Once I got my own key, I could go wherever I wanted, whenever. Yay! When I mentioned that I was bored at home, he was like oh yeah, I forget that you’re a world traveller, you can’t be stuck in one place. You’ve only been here for two days, I thought we could do something on my off days, but you can go with my sister, she’s always going somewhere, if you don’t mind the cats, go with her! She’d love that! Nice! But I’m not asking your sister to take me with her, you talk to her! He did! She was excited to have me tag along. El left for work, Sister was like, get ready, we have limited time to leave. Ok!She didn’t have to tell me twice!

I took a quick shower, got dressed, so psyched, LA baby, whooooo! She had her keys, by keys, I mean KEYS, she must have 67 keys on that thing, don’t ask! On our way out, she was like, “listen, Brook. You can’t tell Elvis this but I rented a car, I’ve been using it now, for a week. He can’t know about this. If he does, I will know that you told him and that will ruin things between us.” Gosh, why did she tell me this because I have to tell Elvis, I can’t keep secrets from him. Especially something about her, she may be testing me. I only just got here! These people are tight. A fifty something year old man and his sixty something year old sister. I felt bad immediately. Those two sure know how to create super awkward moments. I mean that was supposed to be a nice outing between us girls but no, not that time around!

We walked to the car, she uses a cane, remember, but she’s totally fine, I reckon she will do just as good without one, but who asked for my opinion? It was a cute little Nissan something. A New car, parked right by the gate of the apartment block. Elvis was driving past this thing for an entire week and didn’t know it was his sister’s. My poor boyfriend. The reason he wasn’t supposed to know was because, her car was in for repairs, he paid for that because, supposedly Sister didn’t have the money, meanwhile, she went and rented a nice, new car. That was the deal!

We hopped on, left the cats home, thankfully! She drives very fast, that Sister of his! She had a few errands to run and was going to have to return the car that afternoon. We drove though LA, so fun! You have no idea! If you think I love New York, you should see the smile on my face when in LA :D We went to the ATM, she withdrew a whole lot of money, bought us frozen yogurt, yum!I had to spoon feed her hers cos we had no time to sit and eat, we had to keep going. She was playing nice music in the car, we were singing along, soooo much fun! That wasn’t the same girl who was wining and wining about her brother, her father, son blah blah blah the day before. She had a very fun side to her. I will never forget that day! We then drove across town to the car hire place, return it and walked to the Trax (subway), I got change and bought myself a ticket. She offered but I insisted. I got a whole lot of coin dollars for change, so cool. I had never seen those dollars before. They look like South African 50 Cents, but double the size.

We got on the train, it was rush hour, packed to the brim. I didn’t care, I was in LA, that’s all that mattered. I embraced it all! The people were cool, dressed so cool, every other person was carrying a musical instrument, usually a guitar, but some had other stuff. People were a different cool to the cool of NYC, in New York, people are dressed up, they look serious, all the ladies are in high, high heels, the guys are clean cut, all dressed up. In LA, people are laid back, very artsy, they remind me of the people from Melville, Johannesburg. LA people are more approachable compared to New Yorkers. One of the reasons is the pace at which people walk in NYC, you can’t keep up with them if you tried, so good luck!

We missed out stop, had to get off, then take a train back, haha, we just laughed it off, we didn’t care, we were having fun. By the time we got back downtown, it was dark, she was like, ‘come on girl, let’s hurry up, we have a very hungry man to cook for! Elvis is very hungry, when he gets home, he wants his food ready or else”

Hearing her say that creeped me out a little, she sounded like she was referring to her man or something. Aaaannyywwayy...

Seriously, how old are you?

Seeing Elvis Stand in front of me, flaunting IT just before he left me for work was a very weird moment for me. It was reality check. Am I really doing this? For some reason I kinda saw him for who he was, a middle aged man working in a department store who likes younger girls. Do  I want to be that girl? I don’t really know how to put it in words but it was a moment, a realisation you don’t want to have your very first morning at your boyfriend’s house who you just moved in with. Because, what are you going to do? Leave him because you just had an Aha! Moment? Was it cold feet? I don’t believe in cold feet. I believe in that feeling that you get in the pit of your stomach, that voice that tells you if and when you’re about to get in trouble, if something feels right or not. I go by that feeling. It’s been my guiding light for like ever. I think we should all listen to that voice, that feeling. It’s there for a reason. I didn’t.

Soon as he left, I went on Skype, to take my mind off things and talked to my one of my sisters. I wasn’t gonna be that person who just had a weird feeling about someone she just just moved in with. We love Elvis! We’re not gonna say bad things about him! I had to keep the facade up! Hey, sis, how’s it going? I’m in LA, whoooooo hoooooo! We talked for hours as we always do. We were all so happy I left Perry. New beginnings! This is it, sis! Someone who loves and cherishes you, blah blah blah. My stomach was turning, I couldn’t talk about it. I didn’t want to be that uncertain person, who jumps from one big decision to the next. Good thing is, my sisters get it! They get me! They don’t think I’m nuts, at least, they don’t tell me to my face if they do haha. Which can be a good thing.

I then started cleaning up. I was tired, so not in the mood and slightly pissed off that Elvis, who knew what I went through with Perry would take me to such a pig sty. I wasn’t up for it at all. I wasn’t about to pull Operation Spring Cleaning all over again. That’s not what I’m about. I didn’t move to California to clean Old men’s houses! Screw that. I just tidied up enough for me to be able to not wanna puke when I look around. That in itself took hours, because the place, you could tell, had never ever been touch. This from someone who is always in relationships. Seems to me when he’s in one, he always lives with his women (and his sister, her two special needs cats and his mother), you would expect way more. Right?

I didn’t know where to begin, I really didn’t! There were blood stains on the pillow cases from his ear “which was snipped by the barber”, jury still out on that. #SideLook

While tidying up on top of the chest of drawers I FOUND HIS DRIVER’S LICENSE! Licences! He looked different in all of them, good  but different, much younger, no salt and pepper hair, we love the salt pepper on him too though, so it’s all good.

He had so many receipts lying all over the place, I wanted to just throw everything out but I didn’t know why he had what in there and all, so I folded them all up and stuffed them up in a small random bucket I found in the bedroom. Heaven only knows what that was doing in there. There were diet pills on the chest of drawers, tons of them! My theory is, he must have gone on some quick diet before we met. He still looked bigger than the pictures he had sent me but the belly grew four times bigger between our first meeting and the time we moved in and that was like five minutes after! He must have stuffed himself to death once he knew he sealed the deal. Good for him!

And I was supposed to do kegel exercises, yoga and all kinds of things to make sure I’m perfect for him. Dream on, dreamer! By the time I was done tidying up, it must have been night time already. The first day really is a blur to me. Nothing ever is, which is why I can blog about things that happened forever ago. But that day sure was. I think I would like to keep it that way too. The sister went out just after Elvis, I was alone in the house with Sweetie Pie (remember that’s what “Daddy” Calls his mom?) the entire time. She (the sister) took the cats and got the heck outta there! I don’t blame her. She got back in the evening, before El, I decided to go to the living room and socialise. Not up to it but, I remembered living with host families in Georgia. We had to make an effort to mix with the folks, it was frowned upon to lock yourself up in your room and spend all your free time on the internet. That stuck with me. So there I was in the kitchen with sis, while she was preparing dinner to make sure there was food ready for when Daddy got home. Yuck.

She told me the story of her life! Goodness, did I regret getting out there! Either way, It was going to happen, you know? Whether I talked to her that day, the following day, week, month, year, it would have just been postponing the inevitable. I sucked it up and thought, you know what, let’s get this over and done with. Once she’s done telling me these stories, she’ll be done, then we can move on to funner things (American English, don’t judge me! I’m doing as the Roman’s do). She told me about her estranged son, from when she conceived him, to his birth, raising him as a single parent, his dad who was abusive, their divorce, his death, son’s girlfriends, blah blah blah, tears, blach, more tears, crying from the pit of her stomach, I just stood there in utter shock that someone can pour their heart out to a stranger the way she did. Daddy, come home! Yuck!

I was in a tight corner, literally, I was standing in a corner in the kitchen, she was standing by the entrance, she cornered me up, there was no way out for me. When she talks, she gets so passionate, so emotional, and literally is in your face, spitting, and crying and crying and sobbing and crying and balling her eyes out, my Gosh! Then we moved on to Elvis, she wanted to know how long I had known him, I seem like a nice girl who shouldn’t be with someone like him. Then she told me all these stories about him.The stories all were familiar. It was amazing how of all the stories they could tell me about themselves and each other, they picked the same ones. The only difference was that, in her stories, he’s the bad guy, in hers, he is. I got a headache!

The problem moved up from my stomach, to the head. I didn’t know what to think? Who the bleep did I move in with? (Know that show? Who the bleep did I marry? A documentary about people who were in relationships with monsters. Check it out if you haven’t seen it and you, like me love morbid shows haha). I was just standing there, listening. It reminded me of when I was in Connecticut and N was telling me all these stories about T who had told me tons of stories about N. Both sides were convincing enough. It was a toss up, I didn’t know who to believe! In both cases, Connecticut and Los Angeles.

I was ready for El’s return from work. Partly, so I could have another look at him and to hopefully remove the image I had in my head from that morning about him being those older men who creep me out, and party so he could save me from the hell that was his sister.

He was going to be home around 10 pm. My Jamaican friend called. Saved by the bell! I never answered a phone call quicker than I did that call! I jumped up mid-sentence and told Sister, I HAD to take that call. I ran to the bedroom faster than you can say B.E.D. and was not to return there even if you paid me. She was going to have to go drag me out of there. Which she couldn’t. The plus side of being plus sized. #Rhyming

Al called me that night around 9pm, which was a nice thing. I’d almost thought he wasn’t going to. He had never called me from work, so I assumed he never has a chance or is not allowed to, remember he’s the only person in the Universe without a Cellphone? We talked for a few minutes, he was wrapping things up and was about to come home. I was ready for him to get back, it had been a heck of a day.

By the way, remember how on his profile he had lied about his age and said he was 47? Then he confessed when I cornered him on one of our phone calls that that was to piss his ex girlfriend off, he actually was 49 going on 50? HE LIED...

Elvis Goes To Work

January 2013

The sun came out and it was morning. I’m in LA! I looked around me, the surroundings were unfamiliar. I didn’t know if I wanted them to be. They were so uneasy to take in. Clutter everywhere. There was this man in bed with me who brought me to this house without a heads up. I mean, he tried. Short of sending pictures, there’s no way you could prepare anybody for that! He had to work that afternoon. He got up and made breakfast, he brought it to bed. He  had egg whites, threw away the yolk because “it’s bad for you”, some turkey sausages and tons of Diet Pepsi “cos THAT’S good for you”, I guess. I can’t remember what he brought me,  I probably never had it because of the state of the bedroom and the house in its entirety. He ended up eating. There’s a lot of that in the house; where El will bring in two plates of food, assuming for both of us, feed me a taste with a fork from one of the plates AND EAT EVERYTHING, right there in front of me! I think he gets in a zone, same as Perry, and just can’t stop himself once he starts eating and must eat everything in sight. What do I know? I’m just a girl from Africa. He went on the computer, in a tiny cluttered corner in the living room, checked his emails, ordered more car parts and more music stuff. I think it’s cool that he is passionate about something. I don’t know about the something it’s self. He says it’s music and cars, I say it’s hoarding car and music related things. There’s a different.

Before I knew it, it was time for him to get ready for work. He got in the shower, our bathroom being the cleanest room in the house! He went in there, grabbed a very interesting looking, orange wash cloth (washing rag), and showered up, called me after a bit and asked me to wash his back. I still don’t know how I feel about that. Is it cute/romantic or diva-esque? With him you never know. He has a very condescending thing about himself where he dances to his own tune, believes his own hype if you will.

He came out of the shower, dripping. No towel in sight. You could tell he was looking for something to dry himself out with. So was I. I was curious to see what was next. Heck, it’s his house! What does he usually use? He found a t-shirt, the one he had on the previous day, he sat on the bed, soaking wet as he was and dried himself with the t-shirt. I ain’t sh*tting ya! When he was done with the t-shirt, he just dropped it, wherever he landed, it landed there, whatever! It landed on the floor just in front of the bed. His back was still wet, he never got to that part with his t-shirt. I was watching all that in utter amazement. Am I dreaming?

 “Shoes, where are my shoes, bring me my socks, black socks, second to last drawer, yeah, Sears Shirt, it’s blue, what’s that? Right there, that’s the one, I thought my sister did laundry, why is this still dirty, anyway, I don’t care at this point. I hate that place, they don’t deserve someone like me anyway. I’m overqualified for that place. They are paying me half, no a third, no... maybe, yeah, maybe, probably a quarter of what I’m worth. I’ve managed stores before, I have a four year Business Administration Degree, I shouldn’t be working on the floor for a store that doesn’t even have the ambition to appreciate someone like me!”

Honey, Do you have another belt? This is the same belt you had on when we first met, you told me you have lots of belts at home, you can’t be wearing this, it’s seen it’s days! “Pass me that belt! I’m telling you! You don’t understand! I have no respect for that place, I don’t even care what I look like, I don’t care about being presentable for those people!” yeah but you should respect YOURSELF enough to not want to ever wear such a thing, this is about you not Sears! “Anyway, go to the kitchen, see if my sister has prepared my lunch for me” Make sure there’s a cold bottle of Diet Pepsi in there and Raisins. And some Fruit, she keeps feeding me unhealthy, I don’t know how many times I’ve told her I want to lose weight, she just doesn’t care. She’s not ambitious enough to care what she packs for me. I’m so glad you’re here, you can teach her how to do the right thing”

“Ok, gotta go, Daddy loves you! Daddy says, he will miss you today when he’s at work, he says he will see you soon. K, Bye” xoxo

Get me the heck out of here!

His story was, I was supposed to be this woman who was once in a relationship with him but had to move to the East Coast. For that reason, we broke up. We had recently got back together. I was from some Part of California, I’m forgetting the name of the city. It’s a city somewhere in Central California, some place I had never heard of. I forgot it as soon as he mentioned it. This story, by the way he told me at the parking lot of the apartment where he lives. I mean, I’m good but not that good! Plus, again, what was wrong with the truth? I had to lie about my age too and pretend to be older than I am. Actually, now that I’m typing this, it’s occurring to me that, he may have had a relationship with a woman, older than me, from central Cali who I was supposed to pretend to be.

I’m glad I didn’t have to change my name as well, that would have been really hard.

He had told me that he is a mama mama’s baby, one of the reasons he wouldn’t have his mom live in a Nursing home. And had her and his sister move in with him instead.  He told me, “now that you will be living with me, you will get a better feel of who I am and how I treat women by seeing how I love and respect my mother. I call her Sweetie Pie. On my off Days, I cook for her and take her for walks in her wheel chair. Every now and again, I take her out for lunch to restaurants. My mommy is spoiled!” Lucky mommy! Right?

We got out of the car, walked slowly towards the apartment. It didn’t look as cute close by as it did the night we did a drive-by. He asked me one last time to keep an open mind about the mess and to remember we are going to sort it out together. He opened the door and BAM! In my face! Boxes and Boxes of stuff, There was a huge mountain bike next to the big flat screen tv his sister was watching, The aerial was slanting off, holding on for dear life next to a tiny, blue, fake Christmas tree. Sister was sitting on a love seat (two person couch)  in front of the tv with two cats, and mess all around her, there was a crutch near by too. I remember hearing she is disabled. I guess that explains the Crutch. She was in heels though! Go Figure! She has platinum blonde hair, with bangs, and was dressed pretty cute, skinny jeans, high heeled ankle boots, and a nice top and full make up on. The was more mess behind her love-seat, Mess, mess and more mess. That place makes Perry’s house seem like a neat freak’s dream! It was downright dirty! Forget ‘oh I’ve got too much stuff cos I moved from a four bedroomed house to a two bed apartment!” Dude, that was ten years ago, quit playing! Are you sh*tting me, right now! What the hell is this? No wonder you didn’t want to bring me here, he opted to fight people, crying race to have someone pay for a hotel bill you couldn’t afford just so you could hide this mess you live in. What the heck! I thought I was being punked! His eyes were focused on mine for a reaction, I just blurted out, WOWWWWWW! That project was greater than me. They needed Niecey Nash up in there #CleanHouse. There isn’t room to move the stuff to sort it out to sell it or anything. It’s a hoarder’s paradise. And the dude won’t stop shopping! These are people who have two storages over and above everything they have in the apartment.  She has a huge one somewhere and the rest of her stuff is in her van. Remember the van is her actual home, so she has things going on there, tons of gallons of water and Lord knows what. El on the other hand has his own storage in Hollywood and apparently more of his stuff is in the sister’s storage and then his car, an SUV is packed with junk, just junk. There are black bin bags in the back. I remember when he went to buy the cart in San Diego, he didn’t have space to put it in, it was mission impossible. He has bottles and bottles of Diet Pepsi in the pack, some full, some half full, some empty, some full and ready to explode from heat. Good Grief!

I extended my hand to shake the sister’s. I noticed that she has issues with her hand, the fingers are all crooked. She greeted me, and offered me a seat in the love seat (lol, don’t I sound like Clarence Carter; I got caught making love to another man’s wife). I was dressed all cute in my knee high suede boots and a cute dress. I got concerned at that point. What about my clothes! Are they gonna collect all this fluff, human hair and cat fur! Yuck! I had to be polite, so I sat next to the sister, trying to remember my script. So much pressure. El went over to the kitchen to drop the burgers. He seemed quite ok with everything, so comfortable, so at ease! What must have happened to someone’d head for them to be comfortable in that kind of atmosphere? I have pictures, I will post them as soon as I have better internet on a separate blogs with captions, to give you an idea. I am certain you will agree with me!

The sister and got a little acquainted. Then it was time to move on to the bedroom. He has an en-suite bathroom in the bedroom. It’s a two bed, two bath apartment. He had told me before that his sister is using the second bathroom as a Studio Apartment. That was supposed to be a jab at his sister, I thought it was hilarious and not fair. I was yet to meet this person, and he was already belittling her like that. Not cute. Especially for an almost fifty year old single man, who has never married. No offence to people who have never been married, I’ve never been married myself. The mess in the bedroom! It looked like a moving truck, can you say U-Haul? Packed boxes all around, against the wall, with enough space for the windows and then the bed was in the centre of it all. There’s a Chest of Drawers with tons of receipts on it, TONS! Coins, keys, measuring tapes. TWO of those! Remember when I asked him how big it is and he told me, he didn’t have a measuring tape to measure it? #liar

The bathroom was surprisingly clean, it gave me a feeling I was in a different house. The edge of the carpet between the bedroom and the bathroom had come off, you know the steel thing they put there, to keep the carpet down and to make sure you don’t trip? That came off, so the nails are sticking out. You can’t see them because they are brown, so is the carpet, so whenever I go to the bathroom, it’s Watch out! What out! Lmao, I can’t believe this! Every now and then he will let me get poked by the nails and burst out laughing. It’s comic relief for him to live in such an unhealthy, unsanitary environment. Ugh! The bed was kinda made. With really nice linen.

Before he met, he had mentioned in passing that he his barber had cut his ear a little bit when trimming his hair. He was still recovering from that. I didn’t know why he told me that cos it was obviously going to recover quickly. How bad could it be, right? Weeks later, we met, the following morning, I saw blood on the pillows and freaked! I thought he was bleeding through his ears or something! He was ever so nonchalant about it and was like, oh yeah, that must be my ear. What the heck, when is this ear going to recover? It had been a month already! Or longer!

There was no space anywhere for my stuff! I had three pieces of luggage. And nowhere to put them. He told me he was going to buy me a chest of drawers. AND PLACE IT WHERE, DUDE? There is a closet on the bedroom, full of his clothes, which are surprisingly hung neatly. It had been a long day, I was ready for bed. I couldn’t take anymore of that mess in (that’s what she said haha).

He offered me something to eat, I couldn’t, I was in way over my head, literally in this case! I just wanted to sleep.

It is too late to move back to Perry’s?