|I take my bacon with a side of sarcasm. Image source: bestandworstever.blogspot.com|
Him: Hey babydoll.
Me: Who is this?
Him: *name omitted*
Me: Oh, hi ____. Anything I can help you with?
Him: Just checking on you. You seemed to have fell off the planet.
Me: Busy with work.
Him: Understand...too busy for a brotha?
Actually I was busy with an editing job, but because a man comes hollering out the damned blue I am supposed to drop my life and text silly shyt like we're in high school.
In all fairness he's not the only one who thinks my life revolves everyone's calls. My career isn't job enough for most. And don't let me post a random thought on Twitter (I share links to my blog posts on there!) because this means that I am not working. Folks, it's almost 2013 for turkey's sake. Work actually works outside a cubicle these days.
But because dude is a man, that gives him the right to sporadically holler and interrupt my work. Seriously, would he text another man like that? I'm
Nothing in life is complicated. Take bacon. You slap it onto a frying pan, flip it, flip it again, try not to let the grease splash on your frames -- because grease is a pain to wipe off lenses -- and it's done. No matter how many ways you dress it up on burgers...no matter how many images of bacon you find yourself laughing at...no matter which pieces have more meat than fat...it's still effing bacon.
And I'm still a writer, no matter where I write. And he is still supposedly God's gift to NC/SC women, no matter how long it takes him to contact you. Life is just a skillet of bacon.