So I’ve started “talking” to this Surgeon. “Talking” is another term for getting to know someone before the actual date happens – like a phone screen before the interview…so yeah, this mofo might not make it to the in-person interview…that is, with out me having to spank that ass a bit for saying whatever the fuck he’s thinking, out of his mouth…
I am a strong believer in Divine Intervention. I feel like everything happens for a reason. Like that movie “The Adjustment Bureau”. So when I hit a parked car, while parking in my apartment’s parking lot, I had an intuitive feeling that there was a reason for my careless stupidity. I pretty much would’ve went off the ledge and onto the dumpsters had I 1. Not hit a rail in front of me and 2. The automobile was a car and NOT the big ass truck that helped keep my dumb ass from plummeting. SMFH! Fucked my car all up! Do you know how much Virgin Remi hair I could’ve gotten with that $500 deductible!?! Do you know how many bottles of wine I could’ve bought!?! How many cornbeef sandwiches!?! Damn! Damn! Damn!…enough of my tangent, I promise this is going somewhere…
…long story short – turns out the person who’s car I hit was a SURGEON. Honey – I saw those scrubs and while writing down my insurance information, I coyly asked, “so what are you a doctor?” he says “yeah” and then makes sure to correct himself says “a surgeon.” I could almost hear myself thinking out loud “oh Negro we need to keep in touch” but I was cool and kept flirting a little. I told him to give me his number and I’d call him when the tow truck came…another long story short. Got the digits, put the TiffMoney mack attack down and here we are…
Yeah so, I’m starting to realize that a lot of doctors really don’t have any social skills. Makes sense since it seems like they only talk/date other doctors and nurses. I once had an anesthesiologist ask me what I did for a living. I said, “I’m a Marketing manager”. She says “oh, what’s that” WORD. So you only know about medicine and shit? Not about any other fucking professions? Get your head out of your ass. Please and Thank you. Anywho, add the fact that he’s a Leo too (my sign so I know how blunt we can be) and we have a douchebag folks!
I felt compelled to give this muthafucka the time that it took me to write this blog, because he actually had me feeling a little insecure yesterday. NO ONE makes TiffMoney feel insecure without being called a muthafucka IN THE LEAST. (this blog is the quiet before the storm) Examples:
Example 1: I casually mentioned, that I need to lose a little weight and that I’m dieting (it was relative to the convo). Now most guys say, “oh you don’t need to lose any weight.” Not this asshole. He says “do what you’ve been doing, just do it harder.” Now I may have misinterpreted him because he didn’t give me the answer that I wanted but I pretty much heard – “bitch, DO BETTER”
Example 2: I told him that he really looks tired when I see him. He kind of takes offense. I say “No, tired as in you have a lot of responsibility. Shoot, I dress like I have a lot going on too because I’m always on the move, I don’t have time to glam it up.” I then send him photos of me without my glasses on. He says, “Hot Damn! You clean up nicely.” I say “yeah, my glasses and big hair camouflage me (my everyday look). This fucker says “Yeah, must be great for keeping the guys off you during business hours.” WOW!
Example 3: This really had me bothered…I asked him what type of women he liked. He says, “oh any race, doesn’t matter to me. I just go for looks and intellect.” Hmmm…How SHALLOW is that!?! Besides intellect being fucking RELATIVE, I guess if a bitch doesn’t fit into this “trophy” case he has, he doesn’t take her seriously.
After letting these instances of when he said some shit I DON’T LIKE get to me…I joked with him a little and called him Shallow Hal. You know, the movie where Jack Black dates a woman FAT AS SHIT but he doesn’t realize it because he’s under some crazy spell. The doc tells me laughing…get this…”Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Ninja WHAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
For a split second, I was going to re-order my contacts and do a quick crash diet in preparation for our date on Wednesday…but then I said to myself, FUCK HIM! I’m Tiffany muthafuckin (you don’t need to know my last name) I’m EVERYBODY’S type!! I’ve dated all kinds of men of wealth and prestige! Who tha fuck does he think he is!! HE WILL DEAL with my extra pounds and dorky glasses AND HE WILL LOVE IT.
I had to give myself that pep talk yesterday…
Needless to say, I’m debating whether or not I even feel like going on a date with Dr. Douchebag. While he was very calm and understanding about me totaling his car, he doesn’t seem very understanding in regards to my perfect ass being a little imperfect.
Keeping with the theme that everything happens for a reason…this interaction also helped me to realize that, I, myself was being very shallow. I thought that he was some sort of prize because of his job title…turns out he was more like the prize you find in a Cracker Jack box. It’s fun to open it to see what it is, what it could be…but it’s never worth the effort of even opening it. I think I’m going to dig a little deeper and not be so consumed by the flashing stage lights, but more concerned with what the hell is going on behind the curtain! (I should note that I still refuse to date a broke ass, we don’t have shit in common)
In the meantime I’m going to see how this plays out. I think I’ll let him chase me a little. I’ve already been in contact with one of my old hoes (not really someone I was sexing – just someone I was dating) I’ll let him see me entertain him a little so he knows he ain’t f’cking with a light weight! Doctor or no Doctor – he should be lucky that I noticed HIM, not the other way around!