::Editor's Note:: I've found that the Philippines is actually the perfect place to blog. In the mornings it's too hot to go out and I can't seem to wake up any later than 7am anyway, so I find myself doing a lot of writing. It's given me the perfect opportunity to finish some of my drafted blogs including this one. So it looks like I'll be posting periodically in an attempt to un-bore the masses. I also wanted to say that every blog I write can apply to the opposite sex, it's just that I write from my own perspective (duh). Just wanted to clarify that I don't think only men cheat and women get their heartbroken. We all play our parts. OK, the end.
Game Recognize Game
"...in the Bay mayne."
If there's anything that makes me *smh* more than a female being totally oblivious to getting played, it's when a dude thinks he's running game on a chick ... when in fact the bitch ain't even playing. She's watching on the bleachers with an overpriced beer and garlic fries observing and laughing with the rest of 'em.
In an old Dear Abi post, I talked about how I had relations with this one dude and took a shower at his house one night to find a gang of feminine products in his bathroom. Skintimate shave gel, a pink razor, fruity smelling bodywash, the works. The only thing missing was a nekkid woman in his tub ... which I'm sure was there not too long before I was anyway. If he had a girlfriend, I knew she didn’t live with him, but he definitely had someone more than a friend that was a girl over his house that wasn't me.
So did I storm outta there hair half lathered up with shampoo screaming like a crazy woman? Of course not. I just shook my head, thought to myself "This guy ...," smiled, used some of that fruity smelling bodywash (thnx girl whoever you were lol), and then walked my sexy ass calmly outta the bathroom and said, "Damn, you got more girly toiletries than I do." To which he replied: "Oh, my sister stopped by."
And that's all it took for me to stop taking the dude seriously. Whenever I see him he still tries to run the same old *walks outside to answer a phone call at 1am and comes back 20 mins later* to go out of his way to say, "That was my boys crazy wife looking for him" when nobody in the room even noticed he left. Boy please.
This ain’t Pandora, but I SEE YOU. We see you. But we won’t be seeing you for long. And we ain’t mad either. We just want you to know that WE KNOW. Don’t worry, your secrets safe with us. Just remember that when we wink at you and then chuckle afterwards, it’s not because we’re flirting – it’s because we’re laughing inside but still think you’re cute and don’t want you so far outta our lives that we can’t check you out anymore.
Just ‘cuz we refuse to play the game, it doesn’t mean we haven’t been studying it while on the sidelines. It's Fantasy Baseball baby, and while only in our fantasies do we imagine us together as a sexy, power-couple, in reality - your plays are way too predictable and you're not even on our roster.