Don’t F@#k It Up

So in the midst of my hustle and bustle on Saturday, I found the time to slide to the barber shop for a quick beard shape up.  As fate would have it, the curvaceous MILF that flirted with me earlier this year was in the building!  She was paying for her youngest son’s haircut as I entered.  The smile on Felix’s (my comedic barber) face told the story as my beautiful suitor turned around, recognizing me immediately.  She looked me over, smiled, and said hello as she ushered her kids out the door.  As she left, she allowed her hip to rub against me as I attempted to take my turn in the chair.  Her perfume grabbed hold of me, beckoning me to her bedroom!  Instead, I sat my happy ass in the chair as she walked out of my life . . . . . again. . . . . 

“Mike I tell you the truth!  You would let Meagan Good fine ass walk out without giving her play! Why didn’t you ask for her number?”

“Man, I’m trying to finish this novel.  I don’t have time to entertain anything temporary.  Besides, I’m sure she’s gotten back with her children’s father by now”

Before Felix could rebut my statement, the mature debutante walked back into the shop.  I tried to look elsewhere but she was making a beeline to me and Felix.  I took a deep breath and smiled, hoping that she only wanted to request an appointment for her boys next week.  Instead, she looked me straight in the eyes and said . . . 

“Don’t fuck this up okay?  I’ll be expecting your call”

She gave me her card and sashayed out of the door.  Not a sound was made until her car pulled off.  Instantaneously, the place erupted with laughter!  Felix fell into the folding chair next to his station while the rest of the patrons were folded over getting their chuckle on!  All of this at my expense no less.

“Mike, you better do what she says man!  You got a real one there!”

“Not you too Pastor Eric!?  Really?”

“Didn’t you mess up the first time?  Don’t let fear kill your second chance man”

As the fellas continued to talk about the spell cast by my enchantress, I started to reflect on all the times I’ve let my insecurities ruin opportunities for me.  For the life of me, I can’t understand why I allow this to keep happening.  Anytime life appears to be too good, I tend to question it unmercifully, to the point where I convince myself not to do it.

“Mike we gonna pray for you right now.  In the name of Jesus, we ask that you give your servant the strength to talk to Katrina.  Lawd, let his game be strong and say nothing wrong in your magnificent name we pray, amen”

“Amen”

The entire congregation was in agreement.  Pastor Eric had left the station where he was and came over to where I sat.  

“Mike we just want you to win man.  That woman makes her own money and takes care of her kids without anyone’s help.  Isn’t that what you’re looking for?”

“Well . . . . yeah . . .”

“So what are you afraid of?  You scared she won’t be able to keep up with you intellectually? Scared she might not be on your level?”

“Not really . . . but . . . .”

“What’s the matter?

I wanted to bear my soul and confess that I was afraid of . . . . happiness.  I wanted to disclose that I grew up anticipating the worse after something magical happened. Whether it was the expensive Christmas toy stolen two days after, the fancy floor model television being repossessed after only a month, or my parents having fist fights after promotions, it’s been hard for me to accept good things.  So yes, I get nervous when promise looks me in the face.  But instead of unpacking my past, I simply said . . . .

“I’ve been told I over analyze things . . . . . . ”

“You know Mike, I understand that.  I do.  But how can you find love if you continue to over analyze everything?  You’re good with giving people advice but you need to take some of your own”

“I hear that often . . . .”

“I’m sure you do.  You can’t let fear keep punkin’ you man!  If I allowed worry and fear to take control of my life, I would have never met my wife. I would have never stepped out and started this business.  I would have never started the church next door.  Remember that time you talked about having that person that is good for your soul?  That’s what you need right now!   Don’t let her walk out of your life again!  You have a second chance to get this right”

“I hear you Pastor”

“I don’t think you do Mike.  I think you’re starting to fall into that upgrade spirit like the rest of these thundercats in here.  Now that chick with the big booty on Snapchat may be doing the most but can she be a good role model for your son?  Can she cook?  Hell, does she work?”

“Well Pastor, I don’t think I’m into all that . . . . . . . . ”

“Really?”

“Yeah”

“Well prove it!  When you get out the chair, go in the other room and call old girl and set a date to have coffee and conversation.  When you end up getting married to her, you owe me a couple of Sundays to come and sing with my choir”

“We’ll see”

As Felix gave me the mirror to look his work over, I felt a queasiness in my gut.  I knew everyone would be looking to see if I actually make the call.  I got up from the chair and sure enough, the congregation was watching me intently.  I felt like I needed to put my finger up as I walked out.  I couldn’t believe how difficult this was!  I held the card to put the number in and my hand started shaking!  I took a deep breath and dialed . . . . . . .

So how many of you have gone through this?  Have you let your insecurities ruin opportunities for you? How did you get over them?  Help a brother out!  It shouldn’t be this hard . . . . .

 

Written by the Wednesday Gentleman

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2 thoughts on “Don’t F@#k It Up

  1. I read this a smiled. Good to hear guys go through this. It probably took everything in her to do that. Everyone was watching and she knew what she wanted. Even though it might have been clear to both of you there was chemistry. You could’ve been turned off by her forwardness.

    Take a leap.

  2. Thank you for reading Sunny. I found her straight forwardness sexy. She confirmed that she was trying to throw hints the first time. Yeah, guys go through this too . . . .

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