Hotep Pussy... Revisited

     Y’all remember before I met Mimi and had it stuck in my head to get at a Hotep chick and she wound up slowly ruining my life?

Sure you do.

Lemme remind you.

Caught up now?  Let me continue…

So I am chilling at work a couple of weeks ago.  I gets a text message from a number I had apparently not saved or had since deleted.  If you read the link above before continuing here, then you know I deleted it instead of simply not saving.

Texter: “Peace Yakub”

Me: “Huh?  Who dis?”

Texter: “So you just gon act like you don’t remember me?”

Me: “Well, I got a new phone/carrier in October.”

Texter: “Oh, okay…  It’s [redacted].”

Me: “OHHH!!!  But, um…  Yakub?”

Texter: “Oh, I forgot, you was faking shit.  Normal coon-types say ‘hey bighead.’”

Me: “Watch that coon shit, I can block you just as easily.  You were the one who had me in crocheted pants and shit.”

Texter: “Chill.  I was just checking in on you.  Hadn’t heard from you in a while.  What you been up to?”

Me: “You ain’t miss me, you miss what this mouth do.”

Texter: “Likewise…  Stop it.”

Me: “Nope.  I’m chillin.  Working and raising a little girl.  Got a lady now.  You?”

Texter: “Oh…  A lady?  Just one?”

Me: “Do I need more?”

Texter: “Of COURSE you do!  By the way I was taught, you need three.  She tryna share?”

Me: “Never asked?”

Texter: “See, I knew you was a fuckin coon.”

Me: “Last warning.”

Texter: “Sorry…  But I had you ready to be on some king shit.  Ready to be something special.  Me, plus you and her and her.”

Me: “Her and her who?”

Texter: “Oh NOW you wanna ask?”

Me: “Look, I was just trying to get some pussy.  The nag champa and good food were secondary.”

Texter: “I was just trying to make a king.  The ‘toes throwing gang signs’ was a bonus.”

Me: “Uhh…  Toes throwing--…”

Texter: “And you took that from me.”

Me: “You RUINED MY LIFE!”

Texter: “Did I?”

Me: “I had to go to therapy and shit?”

Texter: “Coon shit.”

[Note: I missed this one in the heat of the moment.]

Me: “Seriously.  I have no reason to continue this.  What do you want from me?”

Texter: “I told you, just to say 'hello'.”

Me: “Do you know how long it took me to get the smell of your incense out of my house?”

Texter: “I have never BEEN in your house!”

Me: “Do you know how long it took me to get the smell of the incense you influenced me to buy out of my house?”

Texter: “How is that my fault?”

Me: “Do you know what the resale value of size 40 crocheted pants are on letgo is?”

Texter: “What the hell is letgo?”

Me: “Never mind.  But do you know someone who need some size 40 crocheted pants?”

Texter: “Can't say I do.”

Me: “You mean to tell me you stopped your soul collecting with me?”

Texter: “Well.  I can't say that is an inaccurate assessment.”

Me: “I'm showing my girlfriend this.”

Texter: “You think maybe she'll let me join y'all?”

Me: “You're totally not listening.  Good bye.”

Texter: “Fine, live your life.”

     It’s like a revolving door of situations I have brought upon myself, yet can’t seem to avoid going RIGHT back into.  Classic moth-to-flame shit.  I should have cut her off at the first ‘coon’ but was morbidly curious to where she would go before I actually just ended the conversation.