Welcome back to the I.T.O.F.T.S. Chronicles...

*ITOFTS= I'm too old for this shiggity

I agreed to meet with an ex of mine early this morning to review his new employment contract. Since apparently that's what I do now. And because you know, when we were together, I didn't do enough free stuff for him. O__o Yes, I know my snark is showing. Anyway, let's move on.

I post up at the breakfast spot with my fat-free mocha (can I say ick? fake chocolate is worse than no chocolate at all) and glance at my watch. He's late and I have other things to do. You know how you start the countdown in your head? I'll give him five more minutes and then I'm out? Four... three... two.. In he walks. With a young woman on his arm. A petite skinny lil thang with a long blonde weave. It's seven in the morning and girlie has on skintight black jeans, bedazzled tank top and five inch sequined heels. But I'm not judging... much. I sigh and roll my eyes. Because for why bring new chick? But okay, let's just do this.

He walks towards me with his arms outstretched like he expects a hug. I arch one brow towards the heavens and send him the "you have GOT to be kidding me" look. He shakes his head and looks wounded, "We're friends, friends hug." He kisses my cheek and slides into the booth next to me. I shoot him another look and he gets up and slides onto the other side next to New Chick.

"Umm-hmm. Good morning, let me see the paperwork." He slides a wad of folded paper towards me and I start reading.

"Are you NOT going to introduce me?" The girl woman says slapping his arm.

He glances nervously back and forth between the two of us (um, if you thought it would be a problem, why'd you bring her?) and says, "Michele, Tara. Tara, Michele."

I reach across the table to shake her hand and mutter,"Pleased to meet you." She nods and I go back to reading. 

"Do you want breakfast?" He asks and I say no. By this time, I have out the purple pen and I'm marking comments on the pages. I was almost finished when I hear her whispering to him in like the worse whispering voice ever.

"I don't get it, she's not that hot. The way you described her, I thought she'd look like a model or something."

Oh yeah she did. I pretend I didn't hear and finish my last notation on the page. When she does it again.

"And she's kind of old, like she could date my dad!"

I slap the pen down on the table. "How old are you, Tara?"

"I'll be 23 next week." She announced proudly. Bless her heart.

I try and hold in my giggle but I can't. It erupts as a snort. I side-eye the hell out of him and mouth, "16 years younger, really?" Then out loud I say, "I made the changes I think you should fight for in the margins. The other comments are just suggestions. Congrats on the promotion." And then because I couldn't help myself, "And the new boo! She's a jewel."

"She's not my girlfriend, she's just a..."

My eyebrows jump up, how is he about to finish that sentence? Tara's jump up too. "Just a what?"

Purse on arm, keys in hand I slide out of the booth. He looks up at me and sighs, "You're going to blog about this aren't you?"

"Dude be glad I didn't live tweet it with pictures. Ya'll have a great day."

That's how my Wednesday started, BougieLand. Thoughts, comments, insights?