Yesterday I was on the train platform and I was walking past a REALLY handsome gentleman. Like Denzel if he were a pulman porter in the 40′s, but still like 30 though. Square jaw, chestnut colored skin and impeccable eyebrows.
He was like “Hi, How are you” (smiling while I type).
I responded, “Well Hello Dahling.”
He said, “What are you doing.”
I respond, “Flirting with you.”
He retorted, “You call that flirting?”
I was stuck like chuck. And said, “Wow, wait, people never come back as witty as I do.”
So he proceeded to introduce himself, looking me dead in my grill, never blinking. ONCE. #OOWWWW.
He then proceed to ask me where I was from, and he took out his cell phone and was like whats your number.
I was like, umm, do you sell things, or is your train coming because it feels like you are trying to close the deal.
He was like nah, my train isn’t coming.
I was like, wow, I am use to being the direct one.
He was like, oh, well you shouldn’t be.
I was like what? Yes I should, we both should.
He was like yeah well, “I am in control right now.”
Red Flag. Red Flag. Red flag. Even though you FAHN (peace to @thepbg) my intuition told me to roll out.
I was like dahling, when is your birthday? He was like oh, I’m a Taurus, I was like oh, I’m sorry, I don’t to date you all or Leo’s and said good bye and walked away.
What makes a grown man think he can tell a woman in the street that he doesn’t know, that “he is in control.” I’ll be like, and I’m from the future. Bye boo.
I don’t care what say…I am waiting for my Spring Aquemini. #yerp.
Was he playing with me or was he serious?
He really think that ‘ish is cute?