BougieTales

Relationship Growing Pains - Dolla Dolla Bill$ ya'll


Le Dude and I were strolling along through LeChiChi SuperMarket a few days ago. I was picking up a few things for myself and BougieMom and he was pretending like grocery shopping was interesting. I had just tossed tricolor whole grain pasta into the cart when he asked, "Do you even look at the prices of the things you buy?"

Only half paying attention, I shrugged. "I pretty much know what everything costs." On the next aisle over, he asked again. "So do you have an idea of what you're going to spend before you come in the store?"

Now suspecting that it's part of a bigger conversation, I paused in front of the greek yogurt and looked at him. "Always. Plus I keep a running tally in m head as I shop. Are you buying these groceries or am I?"

"Hey, don't go there with it - I'm just trying to figure out your fiscal ideology."

"My fiscal ideology?"

"Yeah. Are you a saver, a spender, do you budget, have long-term financial plans... that kind of thing."

"All of the above. I save, I spend, I always have a budget whether I adhere to it or not, I have both short and long term financial plans."

He nodded and frowned at the same time, "Do you have stocks, bond, a money market-"

I cut him off, "Hold up. What is this?"

"I'm trying to see how financially compatible we are."

"Interesting that was not worrying you when I was buying food by the platterful with which to nourish you and your boys. But anyway, I would think you've been around me enough and are observant enough that you've figured out I tend not play when it comes to money."

"I know but I think you should put yourself on an allowance."

"An allowance? I'm on a budget. I know what percentage of every penny that comes in is going where. Mint.com and Pageonce.com have me set. That seems plenty. Why?"

"Well I'm just looking down the line. You could write full-time and I would give you an allowance to play with."

Blinkety-blinkety-blink. "One, you are looking way further down the line than I'm looking. Two, I'll get back to writing full-time eventually no matter what. Three, an allowance to play with? That's discussion worthy. An allowance between grown folks only works if both parties agree to the amount and if the giver isn't all up in the receiver's grocery cart asking how much they spent on the pasta."

"Realistically if it's my money and-"

"An allowance only works if both parties think of it as community money. Once you start getting into my money and your money, things get ugly. I'm grown. I've been making my own money for over a decade and a half. There is no scenario in which I'm cool with someone, anyone asking me about how I spent the grocery money. None."

"There are some things you are stubborn about for no good reason."

"There are many things I'm determined about for lots of great reasons."

"It's not like I'd be up in your bank account figuring out what you spend on shoes."

"Why would you need access to my bank account?"

"What happened to the community money?"

"Oh, that would be in the community bank account."

"I'm in banking and you wouldn't trust me to handle the money?"

"You could be the Treasury Secretary and I'd still want a separate account."

He had his hands on his hps and looked down at me with confusion. I had my arms crossed and looked up at him with all level of "What?" across my face. "Let's get what we came for and go." He suggested.

"Yes let's."

BougieLand. What's the thinking on community money and allowances? For my married/cohab folks - who holds the purse strings? For everybody, do you have a financial ideology? How important is that your financial philosophy match your s/o's?

Better to be Smart than Lucky


After reading the edge-of-your-seat post over at @CaroylnEdgar's spot today, for some reason I was instantly reminded of my misadventures with PsychoMike. So in lieu of post today, take a minute to read:

  1. Traveling Alone As a Woman - Carolyn Edgar
  2. The Long, Sad, Bad but True BougieTale of PsychoMike, Part I
  3. The Long, Sad, Bad but True BougieTale of PsychoMike, Part II
Both Carolyn and I, two fairly intelligent women, found ourselves in situations where we were more lucky than smart. And we all know that you cannot count on luck to hold. That one second that your brain shuts down and something else takes over or that you make a decision to zig when you should have zagged - that's when it all goes to hell in a handbasket. It's easy to say in hindsight exactly what we both should have done differently but when you are in the moment, all you can do if find a way to save yourself.


Thoughts, comments, insights?

From the Archives: Christmas Memories

From December 2009:
There are some childhood memories that stay with us long into adulthood. Certain sights, sounds, smells and people that just take you back. This post is about a few of those things. The first was on TV last night. I never fully embrace Christmas until I see some Charlie Brown Christmas. Nothing makes me happier than this:
No, I still don't get why that one mixed-race looking kid in the back is doing an early version of the Running Man. I don't get why Chuck and the gang never have any adult supervision and I don't get how a brokedown tree with two twigs and a spindly trunk magically blooms and grows in 30 seconds flat. And I don't care. Christmas just ain't Christmas until I hear these words:
Sally: I've been looking for you, big brother. Will you please write a letter to Santa Claus for me?

Charlie Brown: Well, I don't have much time. I'm supposed to get down to the school auditorium to direct a Christmas play.

Sally: [hands a clipboard and pen to Charlie Brown] You write it and I'll tell you what I want to say.

Charlie Brown: [sticks pen in his mouth] Okay, shoot.

Sally: [dictating her letter to Santa Claus as Charlie Brown writes it for her] Dear Santa Claus, How have you been? Did you have a nice summer?
[Charlie Brown looks at her]
Sally: How is your wife? I have been extra good this year, so I have a long list of presents that I want.
Charlie Brown: Oh brother.
Sally: Please note the size and color of each item, and send as many as possible. If it seems too complicated, make it easy on yourself: just send money. How about tens and twenties?
Charlie Brown: TENS AND TWENTIES? Oh, even my baby sister!
Sally: All I want is what I... I have coming to me. All I want is my fair share.


Now why everybody in the family would turn and give me the side-eye when Sally said these words is beyond me… maybe… moving on! The point is, the Charlie Brown Christmas show is as much a part of the BougieFam Christmas as this next gentleman, the late great Mr. Nat King Cole singing The Christmas Song:
Of course, we also had a Soulful Christmas including such classics as Santa Claus Go Straight to the Ghetto by James Brown, Merry Christmas Baby by Booker T and the MGs, Santa Baby by Eartha Kitt and the perennial favorite Back Door Santa by Clarence Carter. Nothing like BougieOlderBro trying to get his air bass guitar groove on while singing (off-key) to Back Door Santa. I could do a whole post just on the Christmas songs (J5, Stevie). But I'll move on…

Cinnamon, evergreen and nutmeg are the scents I most closely associate with Christmas. Baked ham, my Guyanese cousin's terrible cologne, and wood smoke follow behind. We used to sip some concoction that was hot, had cinnamon sticks floating in it and was always laced with rum or bourbon (or both?). BougieMom would put it in a huge silver punch bowl near the fire and tell us not to drink too much (never worked). In retrospect, I suspect this was their slick way of knocking us out early so they could finish the wrapping.

Christmas morning still isn't the same without my father there. He was the biggest kid of all. As much as he loved putting smiles on all of our faces, if his stack of gifts wasn't piled as high as he expected, he could get a little funky with it. (Downright tart) So much so that we would have to assure him that we'd make up for it at the After-Christmas sales. He used to light cinnamon and evergreen scented candles all over the house the night before and wake us up at the crack of dawn by marching up and down the hallway banging on a pot and singing Day-O. (You can't make this stuff up) God rest his soul, the man was off the chains.

I could go on and on but I wanted to share a few sensory Christmas memories with you while Charlie Brown and the gang were fresh on my mind. What things remind you of Christmas? Was there a song you always played, a movie you always watched, a smell that takes you back? 'Tis the season in BougieLand, ya'll… Happy Holidays.

5 Questions, 5 Answers... with a twist


3N and I were meeting our friends Dr. Jayme and her husband Owen for dinner a few weeks ago. Dr Jayme  had some sort of group therapy session running late so we swung by her office to wait for her to wrap up. Unbeknownst to us, we stumbled into the middle of one of her "Relationship 101" group sessions. When she saw us, she waved us over and announced, "This is 3N and Michele, they've been dating for six months."

We were greeted with laughter and side-eyes and a few choice phrases floated over to me:
"Fresh meat."
"Newbies"
"Still at the fun part"

At this point, we suspected that we'd been bamboozled, hornswaggled and hoodwinked. We attempted a backtrack towards the door. "Oh come on, just play one game and we'll wrap for the night." Jayme said blinking with the baby seal eyes. That's when I knew we were in for it. Exchanging a look of resignation, we sat gingerly in two seats in the "sharing circle" and braced ourselves for whatever. It didn't help that she passed each of us five index cards and a Sharpie.

"Okay, this game we play with any two people in a relationship: friends, siblings, co-workers, significant others - it doesn't matter. You have to answer honestly and you cannot use a non-answer like 'he's perfect just the way he is' - that's it. Five questions, write your answers down as we go."

1. What's one thing you wish you could change about your partner but know it's probably not going to change?
2. If your partner could be any place in the world right now, where would they be?
3. Would they take you? And if not, who would they take?
4. What does your partner like most about you?
5. What is something you've been dying to ask your partner but haven't asked yet?

The four other couples went all the way in on these and minor skirmishes swept the circle. I have to admit that 3N and I were sitting there feeling kinda smug and positive that there would be no surprises from either of us. Here's how our lightning round went:
One thing to change that won't:
My answer - His Lastworditis. 
His - She's a perfectionist but won't admit it
"I am not"
"You totally are"
"So not true"
"I would say something else but I want you to have the last word"
"Cute" 
Any place in the world:
Mine - Some place tropical
His - Bali, Tahiti, Hawaii 
Would they take you?
Mine - Yes
His - No, her sister
"What? Come on! I just got back from the beach with my sister"
"Exactly"
"Oh damn" 
What does your partner like the most about you?
Mine - My sparkling personality
He couldn't get his answer out, he was laughing so hard.
"Your personality is great, but my favorite favorite thing?"
"What?"
"You give good..."
"Do not say anything R-rated up in here"
"Conversation! You're an excellent communicator. But if I'm banned from the R-rated answers, I can't say what I think you like best about me"
"You cannot seriously think that's what I like best about you!"
"It doesn't hurt"
"Oh my God"
"I'm joking - my sense of humor"
"Well not right now"
Something you're dying to ask?
Mine - What really happened with his last girlfriend
His - Whether she's coming to China with me for three months
"Oh we should talk"
"We really should"
And we'll just wrap that conversation right there. Thanks Jayme for those good times. Why don't you play along at home? I'll switch it up a little:
1. What's one thing you probably should change about yourself but won't?
2. If you could be any place in the world right now, where would you be?
3. Who would you take?
4. What is the absolute best thing about you?
5. Is there something you're dying to ask me (or anyone in BougieLand) but haven't? (I may not answer)

Go for it. And try this at home with friends, sibs, spouses - let me know how it works for you! 

Faking it - no, not that! Surviving the work social

3N and I were forced required compelled to go to his boss' get together last night. We hate those joints. His boss throws the whackest whitest least flavorful get togethers known to man. The last soiree involved a Risk marathon. You remember the game Risk? Took hours and hours and hours to play even when the world was divvied up in advance? Yeah...

So last night, we attend yet another freakity frickin' game night at dude's estate. It's not a house, it's an estate. Someone has to buzz you in to the neighborhood and then into his driveway and then into the house. The economy may be a pile of flaming shiggity but international wealth management is still straight stealing. 

Anyway, at least this time we were allowed to chose the game and chose our teams. Unfortunately, boss man and his very plastic wife wanted to be partners with me and 3N. [They are both just a little too damn friendly if you catch my drift, but that's a whole other post] So we chose Scene It for the Wii and sat down with 3 other teams to play. Boss Man hands me the controller, "Bring it home, sister."

**insert laugh track here** [Why I gotta be a sister tho?]

If I had $100 for every time 3N and I did the fake laugh, he and I would be on a plane to Costa Rica for a 10-day all expense paid vacation right now. "Oh my God, you are too funny. Stop, you're killing me. It's too much! He-he-he." The one boss man's his wife took her eyes off of 3N's ass to catch my eye and exchange a glance, I knew she had probably been faking much more than laughter for quite some time. Bless her bleach blonde heart.

It was just a quirk that a lot of the movies in this round of Scene It were mafia movies and it was Mob Week on AMC last week. The other half of the questions were sci-fi and 3N is Mr. Science Fiction. It took no time at all to wrap that game up. There was an awkward moment when one of 3N's coworkers tried to make some sort of joke about a movie he had seen where the aliens had Asian brains and Negro penises. Yeahhhhh.... you know when you're the only people of color in the room and everybody looks at you to see if you're going to start a race riot over some shiggity?

3N to the rescue, "Sounds like you might need more work to do if you have enough spare time to watch movies like that, Jeff."

**insert louder laugh track here** "Ha, ha - you sure told him!"

After making small talk for another twenty minutes and nursing soft drinks, we made our excuses. We have a routine:
3N: "Well, you know Michele's a busy lady, I don't want her to turn into a pumpkin."
Me: "At least not until you buy me the diamond slippers!"
"He-he-he!"
"Diamond slippers"
"That's inflation for you!"
"So funny!"
"You two are so cute!"

It was all giggles until boss man's wife said, "I was hoping you'd stick around, we're going to open some champagne and take a swim in a little while."

We exchanged glances, 3N was looking slightly panicky. I took one for the team. "Girlfriend, you know I just got my hair done. Don't come between a black woman and a fresh do."

"He-he-he! I hear you, girlfriend!"

Whew, we were outta there.

BougieLand, the chit-chatter. The fake work laugh. The stories you've heard before but sit through again. The happy hours that aren't mandatory... but really are. The pretense of liking folks you would never (ever, ever) spend time with otherwise... who's done it and how'd you get through it? Have you developed a work social persona? An exit strategy? Do tell...

What's your "type"?


Sunday a bunch of us were at a park in Allen, Texas to watch some fireworks. We were rolling about 12 people deep and had completely bougiefied about fifteen square feet of park grounds with lounge chairs, blankets, coolers, umbrellas, totes and tray tables. Even though the sun was setting, it was still warm (read hell-like hot) so someone was passing a portable fan with mister around. I leaned forward to get my mist on when my eyes caught a familiar frame off in the distance. I squinted, tilted my sunglasses down and then dove (unashamedly) behind two of the fellas.

"Woman, what is your problem?"

"It's Derrick and his wife."

"Did he re-marry her?"

"I don't know, that's not the point. I don't want any more drama so hide me."

They did but of course, they had commentary. "So does she only wear halter tops? I think every time you describe this chick, she rocking a halter." "He looks miserable." and most notably. "Well Chele, you do have a type, don't you?"

Hmm. Thought worthy. I peeked over Jayme's shoulder to look at Derrick. The only thing that he and 3N have in common at a glance is that they are both tall and chocolate. But okay, I'll own it. I have a type. Tall, dark, professional, articulate, confident with a sense of humor. That's me all day. Not saying I haven't dated outside of type but invariably, I find myself gravitating to that "type." But far more important than the exterior, I've gotten really picky about character traits. My friend Shirley says I keep dating improved versions of the same guy.

Le Bougie Shrug. I know what I like. But is that what's good for me? Time will tell. One of my friends, Jazz; always dated light-skinned boisterous, life of the party athletes who didn't take life too seriously. She married Bryan, a tech dude with a quiet wit who only plays sports if it comes in Xbox form. He has a 20-year life plan. So who knows?

Bougieland, I put the question to you? What's your type? Do you admit to having one? Do you date outside of it? For the married folks, did you marry someone that was your "type" or not? Have you all stopped to think whether your "prototype" is really the best person for you? Just curious. Do share...

Bougie Bachelorette Chronicles - Episode 11: Revenge of the hit-n-quit chick


3N has a group of friends here in Dallas. We teasingly call them The Georgia Boys because they all attended UGa at some point in the last 20 years. Inside that group, there are six guys that are pretty close in age and all pledged Alpha. Once a month, they get together with significant others/dates to do something. Last month it was barbecue and softball at a park. This month- dinner at a nice spot with music.

Two of the guys are married, two are dating at least seriously enough to bring the same woman three months in a row, and two? Well... we never know who they're going to show up with.

So on Wednesday evening, we're enjoying the wonders of good food, good company, and great wine when the last guy (we'll call him Jay) rolls in late with his date. 3N looks up and immediately grabs my hand under the table. "Uh, listen. Here's what happened." My brow goes up. Anytime a man starts explaining before you ask a single question, you know something is about to go down.

He's talking low and fast into my ear. "The girl who just walked in with Jay? I know her. We went out once when I first got to town before you and I started going out. It was whack, she got clingy. I told her that I didn't think we were a fit and never called her again."

I nodded and gave her a closer look. Big hair, big boobs, tall heels, tiny dress, attitude. Plus, I got a hit of skank wafting from her. "So that's biblically that you know her?"

"Well yeah. Just the once."

He was so uncomfortable, I had to smirk at him. "So she's your Welcome to Dallas hit-n-quit (HnQ) chick!"

"You are way too amused by this."

I really was. I mean no, it wasn't great that he hit-n-quit but the whole thing was before my time and none of my business. Plus, usually it's my tragic dating history popping up out of nowhere. Seeing his stroll in on the arm of one his frat brothers shouldn't have tickled me... but it did. For the moment anyway.

Jay introduced her around and when he got to 3N, HnQ ran forward towards him. "Hey, great to see you again!" At which point, she started to lean down to get some sort of hug on. 3N extended a hand and said stiffly, "Nice to see you again, have you met my girl Michele yet?" Smooth.

HnQ kinda blinked, nodded in my direction and went around the table to where Jay was holding a chair out for her. He looked from her to 3N. "You two know each other?"

3N nodded. "Briefly." HnQ looked like she wanted to tack a disclaimer on that but the look 3N sent her shut all that nonsense down... or so we thought.

The waiter came to take their order and the conversation picked back up. I ate a seabass and pasta dish so delicious that it almost brought a tear to my eye. The band played a Latin-jazz fusion set and 3N who generally refuses to dance actually cut a step. 3N ordered a chocolatey dessert and I accidentally ate half of it. Good time was had by all. An after dinner mellow had settled over the group. And then...

Out of the blue HnQ said (loudly), "So how long have you been seeing her? And is she why you never called me back? I left you six messages! I know you were into me, what happened?" Damn girl, thirst be thy name?

Before anyone could say or do anything, Jay moved the martini glass away from HnQ and pushed his chair back to stand up. "We'll be leaving now. Say goodbye to HnQ, you won't be seeing her again."

HnQ, sensing she had a captive audience, refused to get up from the table and started going ALL the way in. She started detailing all of the things she did with 3N on their (apparently energetic) night together. 3N put head in hands and the rest of us stared unblinkingly in stunned annoyance. #WDDDA and S.No.B!!!

(for the newbies, that's Where Dey Do Dat At and So Not Bougie!)

Wesley, who is one of those guys who comes across all bougie and quiet but is a complete character, cut her off mid-rant by saying, "Sweetheart, you did all that and he never called you back? Have some pride and take a hint."

Le Ouch and Le Chuckle. That shut HnQ up. Jay lifted her from the chair, tossed some money on the table and rolled out. The evening broke shortly after. 3N was like, "Are you mad?" I said of course I wasn't. He brought up Dude Formerly Known as New and the SEW shenanigans. I let him know that was a totally different situation. "But if she shows up at your house with a halter top and some stripper heels on, we're gonna box." And that was that.

My thoughts on HnQ? First, Jay is a perfectly nice guy. All she had to do was play it cool and she could have kept that bird in the hand. Second, why are you announcing all your skank tendencies in mixed company? Third, six calls? Really tho?

Fellas, have you ever run into a HnQ or former girlfriend when you were out with your new s/o? How did you handle it? Ladies, if your man's former HnQ/Flame/Fiance showed up at a dinner party, how would you handle it? And I wonder, would 3N have been as cool as I was if one of my ex-something-somethings showed up to the party and cut a fool? What do you think? Do share, the floor is yours...

No Country for Territory Marking...


Here's the thing about 90% of the women I know and the woman I am. When I decide that I am "with" a guy, I'm with him. That's it. Until he puts me curbside, we mutually agree upon a split, or I've done all I can do... I'm in it. This is what grown azz women do. They stick. They've been to the circus, they've seen the clowns and their head is not going to be turned by a balloon trick or an offer of cotton candy. We don't want a pony ride when we've already got a stallion... ya dig?

So someone please tell me (fellas!) why men still feel the need to indulge in various forms of pissing contests? If the woman is already won, why mark the territory? Inquiring minds want to know.

About six years ago, BougieMom and I were in a house in Plano that we were thinking of buying. We sat down, worked the numbers, took a look at property taxes and skated our behinds back towards Dallas county. 

Here's some backstory: At the time, we had a completely ratchet landscaper named Darryl. This was back when I still worked that "give a brother a break" program. Darryl was a bruh-man trying to get his Plano hustle on. By doing our yard well, he was asked to handle other houses in the subdivision. Darryl got so full of himself doing all the other yards that ours started looking a hot mess. Darryl and BougieMom and I experienced many a falling out. But we were trying to "give a brother a break." Darryl also had the tendency to get real comfy about the home space. I was working from home at the time and he took to knocking on the door asking for water or coffee. Then he took to coming on inside to drink his beverage. We drew the line when he started letting himself in. I would come downstairs in the morning and Brother Darryl would be posted up with my coffee and BougieMom's newspaper. Talking about, "What's for breakfast?" No. Sir. Hell. No.

I was still seeing Gene then. Gene gave Darryl the black man "back the eff up" side-eye on the regular. Things came to a head on the first day of our move. I'm all for hiring movers but I like to take over my clothes, shoes, jewelry and electronics myself. Gene had come into town to assist. Just so happened that Brother Darryl was over tightening up the hedges and decided to get his volunteer on. The next four hours BougieMom and I watched in amazement (and some trepidation) as the two of them basically peed circles around each other.

"If that's too heavy for you, bruh, you can just set it down and I'll scoop it up for ya."
"Bruh, there's nothing I'd set down that you could even remotely begin to handle."

"You move any slower there homey and we'll both still be here at midnight."
"Best believe only one of us will still be here come nightfall, homeboy."

And on it went. Whelp! What was the point? Darryl's crazy azz knew he was married and never getting next to any of this. And Gene knew I wasn't looking twice at Darryl. But as he said, "It was the principal of the thing." Oh Damn.

Fast forward to this past weekend. I'm sharing this story because even 3N had to laugh at his damn self. Middle of the night, 3N is on da twitter talking randomly as he is known to do. Out of the blue, a dude from BnB tweets him to say that he figured out that 3N is the person I'm seeing. Behold the tweet:

I just figured this out. No disrespect but don't eff it up.

3N comes back with: Ain't this some shit. No worries, bruh. I got this.

Other dude comes round again: Good for you if you do. Just know that if you don't... nuff said

3N gets all alpha male: Line starts behind me. Be prepared to wait. A. Long. Time.

Then Riley (who was up at 3am est for some reason!) started throwing shots at the other dude, BaileyQC got in the mix behind 3N, a few other bougienistas weighed in and an entire round robin of shiggity went forth. Other dude started DM'ing 3N and by the time I got up the next morning I was faced with 6 feet 2 inches of salty ninja. What I do?!

First of all... what in the entire hell? Why was other dude coming at 3N sideways in the first place? Secondly, 3N.... bless his heart. He's new to Twitter and the blogosphere but first rule of stopping ratchetassness in its tracks:  do. not. engage. MUTE and BLOCK are your friends... use them!

Okay, I will admit to a time or two giving a chick the "he's taken, no trespassing" look but that's only been in the case of egregious claim-jumping attempts (otherwise known as habitual line-stepping). So I have to ask the question... why do men do this? Is this an alpha male thing? Do women territory mark with this same fervency as well? Ladies, have you experienced this? Men, have you done it? Do tell...

Bougie Bachelorette Chronicles - Episode 10: Awkward!


So what had happened was... 3N (Ninja Not Nouveau) was in Asia, then I was in Florida for a week and then 3N had his mother staying with him for about 12 days and then I went on an East Coast run. Long story short, Monsieur Le Ninja and I got to thinking that some "adult quality time" was needed... post haste. 

My plane landed around 2:30pm. I retrieved my car, went into work, went to the bank and went home. I spun around in the shower, got as cute as I could in 20 minutes and headed over to his house after a quick stop at the grocery store. He wasn't home when I arrived so I used my key and let myself in. 

Thirty minutes later, I had whipped up shrimp fajitas with black beans and rice. I had a pitcher of pear martinis (for me) and his bougie-azz beer chilling in the freezer. Then I sat down on the sofa to watch TV. Since I kept dozing off, I decided to go ahead and crawl into bed for a quick nap. I stripped down to undies and dove in.

Next thing I know, a voice is saying, "So was she part of the relocation package? Because that's a perk to get used to." I opened one eye and saw an older version of 3N smiling down at me. Oh yeah... 3N's daddy done come to town and caught me just about nekkid up in his son's bed. He looked from me to 3N and said, "If this is the same one your mother likes, I can certainly understand what you see in her." And then Daddy Ninja literally cackled.

Say it with me now... AWKWARD!

3N (clearly trying not to laugh his azz off) slung an arm around his dad's shoulder, "Dad, this is Michele. Michele, my father. She'll shake hands with you in ten minutes." He ushered his dad out of the room. I sat up and put my head in my hands. Only. Me. 

He came back in the room and shut the door with the largest grin on his face ever. "So... uh... thanks for coming by with dinner and... stuff."

"Shut it."

"Nice bra. Is it new?"

Heated side-eye from me to him.

"You made quite an impression on him. He appreciates a half naked woman who can cook."

"Seriously shut it."

"You gonna hide in here all night?"

"Maybe." I folded my arms across my chest and fought off the urge to pout.

So what did I do? I got dressed, walked into the kitchen and served dinner. I made small talk, I poured drinks, I charmed the hell out of Daddy N and then I rolled out. These are the days of my life...

Ever find yourself in an awkward situation where all you could do is play it off? No? Then why me? <~rhetorical question. Comments, laughter, shared embarrassing moments welcomed below...

This is how you lose when you win...

Recap - last year I dated a guy named Derrick. We nicknamed him New Dude. New Dude had a shady ex-wife (SEW) and a scandalous-azz best friend, Vince. The drama they rained down was too much for a bougie chick to bear and I bounced. Derrick became Dude Formerly Known as New (DFKN) and went back to his ex-wife. To no one (but Derrick's) surprise, SEW was caught bouncing around D's bed with Vince... on the sheets I picked out. But I'm over it. Sorta. Okay, those sheets were too nice for skankdom.

Anywho... I ran into Skanky SEW at the Whole Foods a few weeks ago. My bad. I made the mistake of introducing BougieMom to the non-dairy expensive goodness of almond milk and now she'll put nothing else atop her cereal medley. Yes, she has a medley. Don't get me started. The point is, I popped into the Whole Foods further away than my regular one and paid the price.

There in between dairy and deli was SistaShagsALot SEW, testing various cheddar samples. I tried to float on by but she wasn't going to let that happen. "Hey Marsha." I kept rolling. The stank ho heffa knows good and well what my name is. "Michele!" She yelled out. I turned and waved, "Hey." Kept rolling.

Now she's following me around the store. "You know Derrick and I are getting remarried?"

"Yes, there's no fool like a whipped fool. Congratulations." DFKN's mom and cousin both told me. They weren't happy but I wasn't that surprised. I rolled onto the next aisle. All I needed were some bottles of Vitamin Water, some French Vanilla Almond granola and I could bounce.

"Don't be bitter, it will make you look old before your time."

"Then perhaps you should rethink that cream-based eyeshadow you're wearing. See you around." And still she's following me.

"Whatever."

I tossed the last few things in the cart and headed for check out. I sent her a look, "Did you need something else?"

"It's tacky but I just have to say it... I win."

Calling on Jesus to keep me from doing anything that would require a call to BougieSis for bail money, I took a deep break and answered, "You think so?"

"I got the man, the house, the bling. And what do you have?"

I rolled my eyes, "You're living in a house I decorated, marrying a man I discarded for pure ratchetassness, and that bracelet you're rocking was picked out for me. You're living my reject life, sweetheart." [See how my inner evil b*tch just jumped out right there? Mea culpa]

She looked at the bracelet, "What do you mean?"

"What do you think the M stands for? And the little pen?"

She looked down and her face fell. She opened her mouth to say something else and I stopped her. "By the way, Derrick doesn't like cheddar. He likes Monterey Jack."

"Why didn't he ever tell me?"

Because he has Recurring Male Disappearing Balls Syndrome (RMDBS)? Sometimes he can locate them, sometimes he can't. But I said, "If you haven't figured that out yet, y'all are in worse shape than I thought."

She had the good nerve to get a little tear in her eye as I walked away. Whatev. Boo to the hoo.

Moral to the story - Don't bait a bougie chick with some bullshiggity, it's just going to bounce back on you.

History Lesson of the Day - The phrase "Pyrrhic Victory" is named after King Pyrrhus of Epirus, whose army suffered irreplaceable casualties in defeating the Romans at Heraclea in 280 BC and Asculum in 279 BC during the Pyrrhic War. In both of these victories, the Romans suffered greater casualties than Pyrrhus did. However, the Romans had a much larger supply of men from which to draw soldiers, so their casualties did less damage to their war effort than Pyrrhus' casualties did to his. [The Romans eventually came back on him and whipped his azz]

To have a Pyrrhic Victory is to win the battle but lose the war. Like winning one lap of the race and someone else gets the gold medal. Like Clay Aiken and Ruben Studdard. Sure Ruben won American Idol but um... Clay won. I say let's now submit SEW to Wikipedia and add her to this definition. [Y'all know you are dying to run out telling folks, "That's a Pyrrhic Victory, yo! I'm about to come back on you like the Romans came back on Pyrrhus!" No? Just me? Le Shrug. Here on BnB, we entertain and we learn.]

For the record, this whole #winning concept is shady. What's the prize? What did you lose on the way to the win? Nobody wins all the darn time, c'mon now. What good is one week of winning if you're whole year sucks eggs? Sometimes when you think you're winning, you're really losing - wouldn't you agree? Who has some thoughts on this BougieTale of When B*tches Attack? The floor is yours...