"Hi Michele, it's not Jason. My name is RaeLynne."
"Two E's, two N's. My mama's name was Lynne and my daddy's name was-"
I cut her off, "Ray, got it. Who are you exactly?"
She giggled (not a pretty sound), "OMG [yes she said OMG], sorry! I'm Jason's fiancée and he told me I should call you."
Squelching the need to tell her she is fiancée #7 (I was #1), I ventured forward. "Why? Why did he tell you to call me?"
"He said if I wanted to know how to treat him right, I should call you."
I, who write for a living, was at a loss for words.
"Are you still there?"
"Are you okay?"
"Are you seriously calling me with this?" I was tempted to look around for the hidden cameras. Look for me on the next episode of Punk'd (or whatever took its place).
"Well he said-"
I cut her off again, "So here's the thing. You need to be insulted. You need to hang up the phone and give him a piece of your mind."
"But, what would I say?"
"Are you even 20?"
"I just turned 20 last week – how did you know?"
Jason is over 40 years of age. This chick just turned 20. Eww and ick. Swear fore God, I am NOT making this up. Please tell me how a woman (even at 20) could be this dingy? There is no amount of cajolery or bullshiggity that could get me to call my man’s ex to find out what to do with him. The hell you say? But what I said was, “Let me tell you what to say.”
And she said (ready for this?), "Should I write this down?"
No I understand what I'm dealing with. Ignorant ex with more ignorant super-young fiancée. "Yeah, go get a pen. I'll wait." Why did it take her over five minutes to find something to write with. And I can hear him asking questions in the background… idiot.
"Okay, I'm back."
"Oh good, I wouldn't want you to miss out on all this knowledge I'm about to drop." Sarcasm dripped from each syllable.
"Huh?" She missed the sarcasm altogether.
"Never mind. Here goes: Jason, either you take me as I am and quit playing games or I am gone. There is no reason for you to disrespect me or Michele by putting us through this lame-ass ego-stroking exercise. Whatever your reasons are for doing it, I don't care. Please apologize to both of us and decide if I should give back your ring tonight."
She was furiously scribbling. Stopped, read what I said and then spoke, "Oh. You're right. Sorry we bothered you."
"But before you go, one question."
"Okay one," I relented.
"Would you give back the ring?"
"I already did." I explained.
"Oh, yeah – one more?"
"It's kind of personal. Might be too intimate, not even sure how to ask you this." She giggled nervously.
"No ma'am, I don't even want to know. Good luck to the both of you." CLICK.
Two minutes later Jason sends a text. "Sorry. It was a test."
For who? I wondered but I replied, "You failed."
I was typing up this post to share when my phone rang again. It was my other ex-SO calling. We chatted briefly and in the course of the conversation, he said I was "complicated and sophisticated" – still trying to decide if that's a compliment or not. What I do know, it's that time of year again. Between the holidays and Valentine's Day – I call it the Rolodex Quick Check. I picture a fella scrolling though his contact list, thinking aloud: Hmm, wonder if she's still single? Thinking of me? Worth another shot? Good for one night of naked aerobics? Phone call worthy, at least!
Bless you, fellas. Just – bless you all.
BougieLand! Thoughts, comments, similar experiences? What do you think that child was about to ask me?