Mercury Is Not to Blame For Y’all Ain’t-Shitness

My friends have been talking about Mercury being in retrograde all week, and while they were showing out all over social media yesterday because of it, I started thinking about a date I went on a while back.

A few months ago, I was at my favorite Caribbean spot eating fish and rice & peas and drinking rum at the bar ‘cuz they been outta whiskey for 6 months. This dude was at the bar next to me and I don’t remember what he said, but we started talking about the food, the game that was on and living in Seattle because he had just moved. We ate and drank and talked for like 3 hours. I got way too drunk, because I’m a regular at that spot and they pour me shots that equal like 2.5. They definitely overserved me, and now I realize I can’t tell y’all the name of the place ‘cuz I ain’t no snitch!

Anyway, I was way too drunk, so dude offered me a ride. I let my people at my spot know who I was leaving with, texted a picture of his license plate to my cousin then called her to tell her I was drunk and getting a ride home from dude and to call the police if she didn’t hear from me in 10 minutes. All the extra ass shit I have to do to protect myself as a woman maneuvering through life.

He takes me home, walks me to my apartment, and leaves. The next day he texts to see how I’m doing and offers to take me to lunch to replace my leftovers I’d left in his car. We go to lunch, have a great time. I thanked him for getting me home safe, we talked for hours again. It’s Thursday, he says he wants to take me to dinner this weekend wherever I want. I tell him I wanna go to my favorite Mexican spot.

Fastforward to Saturday, I’m getting ready for dinner. Shower, shave, do my face, everything because I’m actually feeling him and I’m definitely planning on getting some dick tonight. He picks me up, we go to dinner, we drink Cadillac margaritas and everything is going so good. I’m really feeling him and thinking about how good the sex is gonna be. Then the check comes. This clown starts staring at the TV he ain’t looked at all night and really acts like he don’t see this damn check for like FIVE MINUTES.

So finally I ask, “uhm are you gonna get that?” This man acts like he just realized the check (that he asked for, mind you) was sitting on the table. Then he says, “oh? You’re not gon’ get it?”

Me: *stares*

He’s like, “oh I could’ve sworn you said you was gon’ get this one because I got the last one.” Before I could even process what’s happening, “those words never would’ve left my mouth” comes out. Now I’m grabbing my phone and purse, getting ready to Uber home hella irritated while looking around for cameras because I KNOW I’m being punked, and he’s laughing talking about, “I mean, it’s coo’. I got it. I just could’ve sworn you said you’d get this one and I honestly just wanted to test you to see if you were about your word.”

Me: *stares*

Then leaves.

Moral of the story, men ain’t shit and it ain’t got shit to do with Mercury.

Published by Nina Monei

28 | Sagittarius | Mama Seattle-native who likes cooking, poetry, music, art, sushi, tacos, Rihanna and when whites pay what they owe. Black as fuck, loud as fuck, angry as fuck. Black people are rightfully angry. Pro-heaux, sex positive, pansexual, all Black everything. Here for Black women, Black children, Black people, destroying white supremacy, community restoration, reparations.

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