a spongebob tale

I met with Spiz out of force.
Yoli had dragged me down through the hallway out in to the street.
Pressed in to the back of an orange cab the city whips by my window.

I see his spongebob squarepants hat before I see his ruddy colored face.
The tired look we held matched our tired history.

>>>>>>>”Your fucking dumping me.”
It had sounded a bit silly. Three dates a boyfriend does not make.
>>>>>>>”I do like you.” I replied trying to reassure him. “I just don’t think this will work.”

I can’t date a man that sees me as the color of my skin.
I can’t date a man that sees me as any kind of stereotype.
I can’t date a man that sees no fault in his actions.

>>>>>>>”You can’t fucking dump me. I fucking dump you!”
Such thoughtful parting words.

Fast forward three months later I stood outside The Social.
Wanting to beat the obnoxiously bright yellow hat right off of his head.
“How’s things?” He mumbled.
“Alright.”
“You and D broke up.” He stated awkwardly.
“That’s right.”
He nodded and lit a cigarette that balanced between Yoli’s red lips.
“You’re better off really. Much better off.”

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August 11, 2007. dating, men.

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