A Mofo'n Holiday Heartbreak

Wednesday, December 06, 2017

Hey Mofoville--I figured it's almost the end of 2017 so I should blow the dust off this blog and pay y'all a visit.

Tis the holiday season and yeah it's the season of love, giving, receiving, sprinkling glitter, and hanging mistletoe, but when it comes to me..the recurring theme is heartbreak.

What you mean Meik?

I'm so glad you asked. Heartache is a mofo, especially at Christmas.

I just told the story on Blerd Dating about getting my marriage proposal dreams shattered on Christmas morning, but this particular story actually goes hand in hand with the 25th anniversary of one of my favorite albums. Stay with me--

Picture it.. the year was 19--errr that doesn't matter, but just know I had met my pretty boy thug life bae my senior year in high school. Yes I said pretty boy thug life. Let me break that down for you: He was a pretty boy with cornrows that wanted to be a damn thug so bad--but..well.. he tried.

Anyway, so we had been dating since Sept I think at this point and I was in love. He was 19 (or so his arse told me at the time and I found out later he LIED--he was 21 or 22) and I thought he was my soulmate. Mind you, he still lived at home with his mama, worked third shift, and during the day played thug life, and would pick me up from school or cheer practice-- cute right? Don't judge.. I was 17!!

We even had a song: "I'll Be There for You/You're All I Need to Get By-- yep. cute.

Anyhoo fast forward to December, I was so excited to FINALLLLLLY have a boyfriend to exchange Christmas gifts with. Lemme 'splain something, Meik Meik hasn't dated a whole lot.. even today, I can count on one hand the number of relationships that I've had, so let me have my joy.

I knew he was a hip hop head so I went to the music store and got him a couple of CD's by his favorite rappers, and well hell I'm old I can't recall what else I got but I do remember those two things!

So on Christmas Eve my mama tells me she needs me to go to Walmart to pick up a few things and so I took my little sister with me. We pull up into the parking lot and I see his car..

Some of y'all gonna know who it is when I describe this ish -- a Geo Prizm with dark arse windows with rims.

I'm like LOOK AT GOD-- I hadn't seen bae ALL DAY and here he is..and there was a parking space right in front of where he parked.

I whip my Buick Skylark into the space (don't even.... just don't.)

As I'm looking down for my purse, I hear my sister gasp and I look up at her like "WTF wrong witchu?"

I follow her gaze and look directly into his car.




My 17 year old heart is breaking all over again.

This light skinned negro and all his fuzzy cornrow'd glory was kissing the hell out of some chick in the front seat of his car. MY SEAT.. HIS LIPS WERE MY LIPS.. HAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLP

I just....

My sister looked at me.. then at him.. then at me.. then said.. "what do we do?"

Now I'm 6 years older so instead of showing my black arse in front of her, I jumped out of the car and did the only thing I could do....

RAN TO THE PAY PHONE! *for you young folks reading a pay phone is when you put coins into the phone in the telephone booth in order to use it--they are damn near obsolete now*

Yeah I don't get that damn decision either in hindsight but it seemed like a grand idea.


I am glad you asked. I called my mama dang it. I was hyperventilating and crying and telling her I CANNOT GO INTO WALMART FOR WHATEVAAAHHHH she needed..not while the pieces of my heart are laying on the ground.

So I make the long trek back to the car, trying not to look but I can't NOT look, but when I finally pick my head up to get one more glance, I see him walking towards me with that heffa behind him. THIS MOFO looks like "oh f.. " and I'm looking like "you mofo" and no words are exchanged, he goes into the store and I contemplate whether or not I should throw a rock at his damn window.

Instead I hop in the car and go home where I lock myself in my room and convince myself that I was seeing things.
So after a few hours I call him.

ring.... ring.... ring.....

The phone is picked up.. and I hear a female voice..and it ain't his mama or his sister..

Me: Can I speak to Pretty Boy Thug Life?

Her: He's in the shower can I have him call you back? Is this Shameika?


Me: *croaks* yessss

Her: Ok girl. I'll tell him.. Bye.

Me: Thank you, bye.

I know what y'all are thinking. This heffa he just slobbed down in the parking lot knows your name and you leave a message all cordial n ish? I told y'all I was naive!

So time goes by.. no phone call. I sit in the dark in my room with the one album that can help me pull through this heartache..

Mary J. Blige's My Life album. ONNNNNNLYYYY MJB knows the pain I'm going through. I went so far as to record this on my answering machine, cuz just in case he called he would KNOWWWWWW my mood:

But the phone never rang.

The only time I moved from that chair in my room was to lean over to my stereo hit play again so the CD would start over.
I'm pretty sure my family was fed up with that album.

Christmas Day comes and I sat there sniffing and snotting not caring one damn about a gift and finally my deddy was pissed.. and swore this negro was the grinch that stole EVERYBODY's Christmas and to this day he still ain't over it. Y'all thought I was petty..

The day after Christmas comes and armed with gift cards and red swollen eyes, I decide it's time to just take those two CD's back to the store and try to move on. BUT not without trying ONE more time to call because ..dumb.

Ring.. ring...ring..


DAMMIT.. that same chick is answering the phone!

What do I do?!

Me: Pretty Boy Thug Life there?

Her: Shameika he cannot come to the phone. We are busy.

Then this bish proceeds to quote the lyrics to this song before she hangs up.


Ya'll.... I cannot even listen to this song without getting mad.

If this had happened today... in the year of 2017 I think I might be locked up.

Did she really just do that and what are they busy doing?

So I do what anyone else would do.. go to my cousin's house and get her to call him with me on the other extension-- that blocking heffa still wouldn't give him the phone.

Fast forward to a week later, my phone rings-- answering machine picks up and I hear "Meika, hey, it's me."

I debate, pick it up or let him talk to the answering machine.

Y'all know I picked that phone right up! He apologizes over and over and asks if he can come pick me up and I'm like no but you can come over and explain everything but you can't come in, my deddy don't like you and frankly neither do I.

So he comes over, I go sit in his car while he tells me that this heffa was his ex and she was in town visiting and stayed with him and he didn't know what to do. Um.....


let's see.. you clearly told her you had a girlfriend sooooo.....

I tell him I took his Christmas gift back and he tells me he did the same. WTF.. no this isn't how this works.. YOU GIVE ME MY GIFT. YOU HURT ME!

So I had to ask what it was..and to this day I swear I don't think he bought that ish to begin with. He describes this outfit in great detail and then again in hindsight I'm thinking this was probably an outfit his "ex" had on and he couldn't think of ish else to say.

Long story short.. my dumb arse forgave him and we dated until I skipped off into the sunset and went to college, and we even tried to keep dating my first semester. I knew it was over once I realized all the potential college baes that actually had decent conversation and wanted ish out of life besides a new set of rims.

I knew it was over when I went home for a visit wearing my new Reebok Classics and this fool says "I saw on Maury that only hoes wear those kind of shoes."

Sir YOU are the hoe and we are done. I had found my clapback and embraced my MJB strength, I was gonna get me a college bae and a degree and never think of this mofo again.

Well...enter King Mofo and my life went down the hill after that. So you see, this is why Meik Meik can't date and have nice things.

Lesson Learned: Chile IDK I clearly didn't learn a damn thing cuz I got involved with King Mofo and stayed in that foolishness for 8 years..

Always in Gratitude,

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  1. We all been there being either naive or young -n- dumb.

  2. Dayum!!! Pretty Boy Thug Life called you like he was the Ghost of Christmas Ruined. What a story.


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