Possibly the most Puerto Rican thing other than...
Yep... that's super Puerto Rican... shit, I want plátanos...
Anyway... ummm... I don't think I'm afraid of rattlesnakes. It's not like a nightmare. It's more of a quest that doesn't have any pay off besides... you know... dead rattlesnakes. Weird...
So, I've been going full-tilt boogie into Turkish (people still say full-tilt boogie, right?). So, there's good news for would-be residents of Turkey; it's not a difficult language... sorta. They have some German-sized words because of how the language is (It's agglutinative. I know what you're thinking... no, it doesn't have gluten in it.). I might as well learn it though. Shit, no one here speaks English, and it's hard enough getting a girlfriend when you're only game is staring intently, licking your lips, and pointing at your penis. Grunting aggressively, believe it or not, doesn't go well (weird, I know).
You know how they say "speak of the devil, and he appears." Weeeeeeell...
The girl appeared. She appeared with vengeance. I mean... not vengefully. I kinda just like using the word "vengeance" because it seems like it belongs in a sequel, and I picture my life as a series of box-office failing movies.
Anyway, I was thinking earlier today, "you know, she doesn't want me to see her right now. if she wanted me to see her, she'd just show up." Less than an hour later... Poof... there she was.
My guess, her other guy finally decided to drop her (ehhhhhhh, probably not), or she just means to use me to make him jealous. Some girls love the drama. Meh.
She must not know who I am.
Look, I can forgive. Not so much about forgetting quite yet. And why should I? That shit was last month! Wait... I'm going to pretend like I'm actually checking...
While you wait for me to pretend-look...
I laughed so hard that my dick hurt
Yeah, it was last month... anyway, so there she is... just standing there. Waiting for me. Staring (and not in a creepy way... God, I really wished it was a creepy way). At first, it took me a second to register who the fuck it was, then I got that drop in my stomach. Don't worry... I didn't poop myself. In fact, once I collected myself (it took half a second), I halted my shaking and just greeted her like nothing happened between us. Yeah, I know it's a game, but that's how it has to be sometimes. I don't like games. They're stupid, but if everyone is playing and you refuse, you don't end up being above it all... you just end up being really bad at the game. It's like football (American football... not soccer... I mean football... I mean... GOD DAMMIT, AMERICA! WHY DO WE EVEN CALL OUR FOOTBALL FOOTBALL?! WE DON'T PLAY IT WITH OUR FEET!). Sure, you can be like, "Nah, bruh. I ain't playing that shit," but you're on the field and they are still gonna tackle yo ass (I know, it's technically "your ass," but it makes me think that they are actually just tackling your butt... and that's weird and not at all what I'm saying. Your ass is not being singled out and tackled.).
When you live outside of America, games are a must. Sure, there are people who don't play games here, but I'm kinda limited in finding them on account of my work schedule and my crippling inability to speak Turkish. Moving on... suffice to say, I played well. She wasn't expecting it. How do I know? Her wide-eyed look like I caught her off guard. You know how you play a scenario in your head, especially with someone you like or love or close to? Sometimes you just a little off, but you can rebound and adapt. She did not expect any of what I did. She didn't expect me to smile and ask her where she had disappeared to since the last time I saw her (about a week ago). During this, I had to fight the temptation to boop her nose while she stared silently at me in shock. (I shoulda done it... my one regret.) Then, I told her that I had to work, but if she wanted to talk to me she should just text me. "You still have my number in your phone. Just text me. Tamam mı?" (Okay? in Turkish... which blew her fucking mind that I said it so casually).
I believe we call that the Bait-and-Switch... actually... I have no idea if that is a definition of a Bait-and-Switch... I think it has to do with fishing... I could be wrong... I'm probably wrong... fuck fishing.
Do I really want her to text me? Yeah, but again, this is a game. It's her move. I just gotta wait. She came to me and expected me to be putty in her hands. Part of me has closure already. She's become predictable. So, let's rewind a little bit... *rewind sound*... *hang my head in shame of being so lame*...
The dude she was messing with is... uhhhhh "preoccupied" but is also a Turkish coworker of mine. So, right on. She told him about me and her. Why? Because games, dude. Pay fuckin' attention. Now, she is still totally a love addict, but now that I know that, it's a lot easier to predict her. So, dude-buddy-mc-casserole decides to drop her the first time at the same time I freaked out. Now, there wasn't any animosity between me and dude-dude-magrude. We weren't buddy-buddy to begin with, but he was really awkward around me. It began to ease recently when he knew I didn't hate him... until about a week ago when I saw her again. And wouldn't you know, it was obvious. I saw him the day before then, and the shame was on his face. I knew what was up before I even saw that she was in our side of town again. Tsk Tsk Motherfuckin' Tsk.
Dr. Who is giving me a major Sonic Screwdriver
It was like that all week. The guilt, the shame, all of it written on his face until yesterday. His face was relieved. Of course, he broke things off with her again. Guy is SERIOUSLY "preoccupied," cough cough nudge nudge tickle tickle... wink... this is awkward now.
Anyway, that leads us to why I was thinking "if she wants me to see here, and she will show herself."
Ta-dah. Predictable now. Sooooo, I'll probably just level with my coworker. I don't want him caught off guard; plus, this is part of the game. Confused yet? Good. To my non-white readership... you guys probably know what I'm talking about. You gotta be tactile about this shit. I know, I know... you probably hate this shit just as much as I do, but it's how it is. To my white readership, things can be socially complicated within cultural dynamics. Here... have some saltines. Shhhh... calm down. Who's my big boy? You are!
Yes, You are! Yes, You are!
So, what's the goal? To cut through all the bullshit. Clear and simple. She is going to try to convince me to take her back. It's a win-win for her. She pisses off dude-coworker-Turkalot (and may get him back), and she has me if it doesn't work out (hopefully, with me none-the-wiser). I'm not too crazy about those outcomes. All I want is to end things cordially or as close as I can get it to that. And dude-buds-fignewton is just trying to survive and not fuck his own asshole.
Now, there is only one hitch in my plan that can ruin everything... Can you guess what it is?
Yep, my penis.
Surprise.
I don't feel like finding a picture so this will have to do...
<===3
Is your mouth watering yet? Good.
I can already hear it talking to me... "Yo man, I get it. She did you wrong, but you can do some crushing." "Yo, maybe you can make her a 'special buddy.' Just keep her in line or don't get all caught up with feelings and shit."
You have no idea how appealing those ideas are. I mean, if you're a guy, it's not hard to imagine... I guess, it's pretty easy to have a semblance of an idea of how appealing those ideas are. I don't know why I assumed I was special... Meh.
So, hopefully, I play this right... Oh and I saw Star Wars. IT WAS EVERYTHING I EVER WANTED AND MORE! PEW PEW! FWOOO FWOOO!
I think I'll write about Star Wars next week. Yeah, that'll be good.
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