Zyrtec 

It was my turn. 

 Dozens of times I’ve seen someone’s personal business get aired out on the timeline. How many times have I seen tweeters get exposed, clowned and berated? Well, tonight has been interesting to say the least.

As I lay here with a pissed off girlfriend and a stomach full of butterflies, I think about how it was all good just a few hours ago. I’m strategizing and attempting to rectify the multiple situations and pursuing damage control in the most efficient ways possible. I think about how I was just toasting to prosperity, honor and fertility.. Taking shots and eating chicken wings with my woman and her friends and how One DM knocked me clean out of the clouds. 

I’m currently standing directly in the thick of adversity. Knee deep in it like thick, red Georgia mud after a heavy rain. Before we get to that though, let’s rewind. 

Twitter, 2009/2010. I’m a 19 or 20 year old college kid full of pride and adventure. I lived in Conyers, Georgia at my Dad’s house and I beat around Atlanta in a 2002 Pontiac Grand Prix. The AUC, a bunch of studios and the east side of Atlanta were my stomping grounds. Now, to make a long story short, I fall off in a DM, exchange numbers with a particular young lady and Start to move forward. One thing leads to another and on a beautiful summer Atlanta afternoon, I get up, gas up my car and drive to Austell, Fucking Georgia to pick this chick up. 

For my readers who aren’t in ATL that’s like a 50 mile trip, one way. 

Anyway, we drive back to my side, hit the grocery store, get all the fixings for some cheeseburger sliders and head back to the estate. Now, we get there and she begins to cook and I specifically remember tweeting one of my friends “I got mine in the kitchen cooking right now!” She didn’t take too kindly to that. Next, we swim and talk for a little bit in the pool, dry off and head back to the living room. 

Now. We ate, we swam and we sat in blasting air conditioning on a Georgia summer day in July. Naturally we both get sleepy. My memory isn’t clear on the details, but I do remember trying to make a move, getting turned down and taking her home. I took my sweet ass time getting ready to make a 50 mile drive, but I didn’t hold shorty hostage and I damn sure didn’t give her an over the counter allergy Medicine that toddlers can take in attempt to finesse some pussy. She may have said something about having a headache, but I really can’t remember. Shit, my pops has chronic headaches, if anything I probably would’ve given her an Aleve or Eccedrin, it’s plenty of that shit over there to this day . 

I tried to chop it up with her for the rest of the month back in 2010, she wasn’t Fucking with it, I took my L and continued on with my life. 

FAST FORWARD SIX YEARS LATER. 

March 2016, Im sitting in the restaurant with my shorty and her two homeboys. Drinks are flowing, I’m full of chicken wings and I decide to grace the TL with my presence. Twitter is on fire talking about toe sucking, ass eating, threesomes and such. The previously mentioned female had followed me out of the clear blue on Twitter sometime last week. I see aforementioned female from 2010 talking about how adamant she is about sex and threesomes and niggas being freaks, so I hit the DM to see if she really about what she popping off about. 

I usually calculate and strategize my every move but the one time I choose to be impulsive I did it in the wrong moment with the wrong woman. 

I kindly ask if she’s interested in a threesome and request that this message remain discreet, and I immediately get hit with “You got me fucked up!” I apologize swiftly and before I could say anything else I got the notification that “You can no longer DM this person.” I took it with a grain of salt until I check her page one last time and there it is. 

Me. 

I see the screenshot of me. My face, my Avi, my name and all at 9pm on a Sunday. Premium Primetime Twitter Day and hours. A nigga who is out with his girlfriend has been publicly displayed on the TL requesting a threesome. My stomach dropped to the floor, but I didn’t panic, this isn’t the first time I’ve looked like a jackass. As I prepared for the coming storm, the worst possible thing that could’ve happened in that moment did. 

My phone Fucking died. 

The whole ride home I am itching man. I almost rubbed the leather off of my center console trying not to bug out. 
I had just got back from out of town (from introducing my woman to my mom, might I add) so my car charger is misplaced. My shit is thrown all around my room so I find my iPhone cord but no brick. In my haste I plug my phone up to my MacBook and wait for that beautiful white fruit to illuminate that black background. 

The second that my phone hits 5%, I have so many notifications that my shit should’ve just jumped up and danced around in a circle screaming “You fucked up.” Homeboys, homegirls, exes, old freaks, even niggas who I had falling outs with all hit my phone trying to give me a heads up. Group chats that I removed myself from started beeping. My notifications were coming in one after another, a mile a minute. I searched my name and saw Zyrtec and Bill Cosby references galore. 

I’m the oldest of 10 siblings. I’ve been taking responsibility, leading and having to deal with high pressure situations for the majority of my life. Middle Linebacker and Defensive Captain on the field. When I pledged my frat I was line captain and the rock. I’m the Lead at my day job and the nigga at the end of line in flip cup. I’ve learned that you deal with conflict as soon as possible and head on.  I’m built for this shit. 

Hell yeah I’ve DM’d plenty of women. Some for different reasons and for some I used different approaches than others, but you Fucking right I did it. Was the intent for the threesome literal? No. Did I think  it would turn into all this? Absolutely not, but here I am, dealing with my reputation being tarnished, an infuriated girlfriend and multiple side eyes. 

It’s infatuating how drama brings out the worst in people. How people thrive and are invigorated by the shit. Women you haven’t talked to in years, literally, still have your messages saved to their iCloud, referencing behavior from 2012. Other women you’ve talked to run to their DM’s, scrolling and screen-shotting as quickly as possible to attempt to discredit you or defame your character. Me, a creep? Check my stat book. I haven’t had trouble with bagging quality women since eighth  grade. Quality is key. Trash women do trash things. You can’t expect a fish to walk. In the fine words of Young Super Future: 

“And if she telling lies about me, It’s cause she ain’t shit.” 

There are a plethora of women that I’ve dealt with on the timeline. You know which ones had some foul shit to say? 
The trash ones. 
The ones I never smashed, took out or looked at twice or gave an effort to. How can you call me a cheater when I never saw you in real life? 

I’m not worried about me or my reputation. I think entirely too highly of myself to be phased. What bothers me the most is the emotional state of my woman. How is she supposed feel and deal with this? Embarrassment, dishonor and disrespect? She posts us all the time and talks about how much she loves me just to have to deal with shit like this. I can afford making myself Look like a jackass, but she doesn’t deserve that. For that, I truly am sorry. 

Ladies and Gentlemen, there are a lot of petty women out here in the world. You gotta stay on your toes! A smart man learns from his own mistakes and a wise man learns from the mistakes of others. Take heed from me, think before you shoot that jumper in the DM. For all the winners out there with A1 game, even Jordan missed a clutch shot. Forgive me for the mishap, we shake back and live to play another day. 

Fuck em, We ball. 

So until Next Wave, Remember. 
Fortune Favors the bold, Luck favors the prepared and date rape is a shitty thing to insinuate. 

-International Malcolm 

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