She's Limited Edition

Let’s see, how did this story start? Oh, I remember it was such a boring day at work. One of my friends happened to be in the same area code so he hollered at me to link up with him at a random bar and shoot pool. So I ditched work, headed home to pick up some green then went to the bar. We ordered the cheapest drinks on the menu and settled for the game.

There she was, looking stunningly hot. Extremely light skinned and some of my goons would have said her cleavage was “for world cup”. I was obviously not bothered by her existence. I was here to get as drunk as possible before my 8pm curfew. The problem came when she started clapping for my every shot.

Now, let me straighten this out before you encourage me to register for the Nile Special National Shootout. I am a less than average pool player so this was a twisted way of flirting.

           

With her cheerleading, I was winning every game. Shooting everyone down and getting high fives from her. I went to the bathroom since the liquor  was starting to stretch its wings. I came back to find her flirting freely with my friend and I was relieved because at least that was out of the way. I wouldn’t have to buy drinks for her because honestly I’m not good at chit-chat. If a girl looks interested in me I just flick a finger at the waitress and buy her a drink. If she seeks shelter at my place then that is between her and her God.

So it came as quite a surprise when she turned to me and asked for a drink. I didn’t mind. But I wanted to make it clear to my buddy that I didn’t want the stress of a relationship without the fun of the…um, sex. He told me it was a one off. She told us her name was Farida, everything was charming and PG. We later said our good nights and left.

The next day, her name had dramatically changed to Amina. Wait, but she had told me her grandmother was called Amina. The fuck, who cared? She was way older than me. This time she was real close, giving hugs for each game I won. And pecks for every round I ordered. We headed to town and honestly had fun.

I felt on top of my game…

*day dreams*

*comes back to reality*

Oh!

Perhaps I should have known that girls who are willing to jump in bed with Gaga because they are "born that way" and are overly obsessed with that chop my money joint from psquare (and that other black guy) are not entirely the beer buying type. Especially when you have no income. Or maybe I should have known that when someone tells you they were in South Africa the other week, their brother is somewhere in the U.S. and mummy...well mummy is chilling in Paris; there is something fishy. Oh, and she has to fly to Congo and link up with *insert any relative of your choice* then fly to Heathrow.

Bitch...please shut the fuck up. I'm trying to get drunk here.

Um, I went back to just shoot pool two days later. She asked if I was drinking and I declined by pulling the rehab line. Like, babe I’m so fed up of drinking. This shit has fucked up mi vida blab la bla.  

There was no cheerleading, no hugs and definitely no pecks. Some dude came and she was all over him like a rash. I realized she didn’t work there. She just got the men pocketing and pulling out notes. This inspired me a lot. I decided to get to know her better. We walked home yesterday and she told me she has two kids. A sweet lil’ boy and a lil’ girl.

Abort mission.