1-800-FUCKBOY
Yes, as much as I would like to deny the fact that I singularly ran this hotline, for, well, a long fucking time, there is no possible way for me to do so. When it comes to fuckboy antics, I’ve got a master’s. I’ve studied all the dumb shit they’ve pulled as though understanding the ignorance might lead to a different conclusion. For the record, no it hasn’t.
I’m not exaggerating when I say I can spot them at a 20-yard stretch. Their ignorant ass, think their dick is too big for their pants, swagger. The fact that they carry no car or house keys because they have neither, yet they always have the fresh off the rack crease in their clothes. Once you learn to recognize their bullshit, they all start to blend together. With the outlandish number of fuckboys I’ve been tied to, you would think that they’d have all run together for me by now. Not a chance. They all had their own weak-ass hustle. Let me digress…
Travis
The “I thought he would grow out of it because he was Pop N Fresh” fuckboy. This kid was my neighbor right after Ty and I divorced. The kid basically worshipped the ground I allowed him to. After months of making goo-goo eyes at me, I agreed to spend a little time with him. In some ways, I thought I was healing me, a little laughter in my post-divorce brokenness. Until Christmas Day, this kid is at my house amongst my family and some little trashy bitch shows up at my door. To announce her pregnancy.
Being the Belle I am, I showed them both the exit they could carry their nasty asses through. That “maybe he’ll grow out of it” fuckboy? 15 years later, and he has 4 children with 4 women. Once a fuckboy, always a fuckboy.
Next Caller, Please
“Ms. Macon, Ms. Macon, first-time caller, long time listener”.
“Ok, caller what can 1-800-FUCKBOY do for you?”
Oh, Contner? Sure, I remember you Contner. Fine as wine, fresh outta prison. So fucking beautiful it was like staring into the sun.
The only man to this day that convinced me the rain sounded too sexy to go to work and to stay in bed all day with him. He worked on one of the production lines at the plant when I had newly conquered the engineering department. My techs hated him. They could see right through him.
You couldn’t tell me shit, though.
So, time goes on and he’s living with me. Rent-free, of course. One day, I tell him he’ll have to man up. Nobody lives for free. That very night, he didn’t come home. I came home from work the next day, he had moved his things out.
The fuckboy response to “Rents Due”.
I’m currently dating one. For over a year. The details would shock you. I know I’m stupid for loving him. I know there’s no future. I know I know. But I can’t help myself. He’s really hot. OK there, now you know
Preach. Girl. Love it!