THE MASK IS OFF

I'm back to my old routine from the extended weekend.

I attended several social gatherings (house warming party, bar-b-que's, clubs, etc...) which meant I had to keep my public mask on for an extended period. You have to be nice and smile and pretend like you really care and have an interest in what the person in front of you is saying. You exchange pleasantries and find light and humorous ways to sugar coat what you're really thinking and feeling. You laugh when others are laughing at someone's tacky stories and you refrain from sharing stories about that really good shit you had last week, or refrain from snatching off the fake ponytail the woman in front of you is wearing....

When Sunday arrived, my public mask got stretched out from holding in all of my true, pent up thoughts/feelings. I had to hang it up, let it air out. I attended the rest of my scheduled outings and decided to leave the mask at home.

A woman who has long been jealous of my accomplishments walked up to me at a party and asked me. "Are you married, YET?" Emphasis on yet. She rubs my back as if she feels sorry for me. While saying this she made a hand gesture to show off her engagement ring. I replied, "No, I'm not as desperate as some women are, willing to take on a second job to support a man just to say they have one." OOPS! Did I say that out loud?! She wasn't very happy about that and had to leave the party early for her night job as a security guard.

I've been avoiding all calls from Jamaican Chocolate Stalker. He calls me to leave one of his long psycho messages and I decided to pick up the phone. "I've saved all your messages. If you call me again I'll call the police and play it for them. If you want a one-way ticket back home, dial this number again." He told me to have a nice life and hung up the phone.

At the reggae spot, I'm walking to the bar and this gold toothed, foul breathed prick grabs me by the waist, hugs me and slides his hands down my back to my ass. He says, "You a nice thick stallion." I grabbed his dick and squeezed it. Shocked and embarrassed, he tried to stumble away and my hand took on a mind of its own, finding his bony ass through his oversized jeans and gave it a nice hard, pinch.

I'm at a dinner party at a "friends" house, talking with a stable prospect. He's listing off his credentials, selling himself. When I try to talk about myself he finds a way to bring it back to him, cutting me off to continue talking about himself. He's so pompous. His chest puffs up like a rooster the longer he talks. He asks me, "Do you believe in casual relationships?" I respond. "Well, I'm on my fifth hand so what do you think that means?" It takes him a second or two to catch on and then his chest deflates.

Now it's Tuesday and my mask is tightly on, ensuring I remain sociable and considerate until I reach home where my true thoughts are confined within the walls.