I graduated from the University of Florida (Go Gators) July, 1997. During my time, there I was a member of Campus Crusade for Christ.
At one of the regional meeting, I saw and met the most beautiful black guy in the world. His name was Youself from Washington. He was built like a football player and had beautiful teeth and soft hair.
After my graduation, my roommate Stacy and I decided to drive from Florida to Washington for a week, as a congratulation for me. Stacy and I had saved up our money and after graduation, we rented a car and drove. Stacy drove and we made like a 17 hour trip in 13 hours.
We arrive at Howard University and found his dorms. Youself, and one of his good-looking male friends show up with him. Instantly Stacy and Youself’s friend, Miles liked each other. They were both on the trashy side.
I told Youself before driving all that way that I wanted to see Washington and have fun.
The first night Stacy and I got a hotel room and called it a night. We were to meet Youself the next day for our Washington adventures. I woke up and called Youself. Miles picked up Stacy and I rode with Youself.
Youself was driving for over an hour through the most beautiful neighborhoods and then he stopped. I said, Where are we? At my parents house, he said. He took me over to his parent’s house? The house was nice. I thought it was odd that they still had up their Christmas Tree up in July. His mother told me that the tree has been up for years. They love the feeling of Christmas, so they left a very old pine tree that looked like it belonged on " Charlie Brown’s Christmas". No problem.
Stacy was with Miles, and never came to Youself’s house. I was at this house with Youself’s parents talking to me about insurance for about four hours. I wanted to kill him, but I just smiled. I was starving; I saw a peach and asked if I could have it. I bit into it and it was rotten, so I threw it away.
Youself preached to me about starving children who would love that peach. He went on and on and on. Finally I took the peach out of the trash washed it off and ate it. Youself was very happy and prayed for about 30 minutes, thanking God for food not wasted.
The third day, Youself picked me up and took me to a gym. (What!) He weighs me and then told me how much weight I needed to lose. I could have killed him, but again I just thanked him. Then Youself worked out for hours and trained other people while I sat there, scared to say that I was hungry.
On the fourth day, Youself said we were going to meet his friends. I got all dressed up because I wanted his guy friends to say" Wow Youself that GloZell is hot, you are lucky man." We ended up at some raggedy park. My heels got stuck in the dirt, an I had to beat flies off of me, the whole time. All of his friends are the most gorgeous women in the world that he trains and who obviously liked him and wanted me to take a flying leap. This was the worst trip ever.
I told Yousef I want to see an art museum or something. I know that Washington has a lot of history. The next day he takes me to the Zoo, where I get attacked by the worlds largest Bees. He kept saying just stand still, I couldn’t so I ran off and they ran after me. I felt so stupid, I was screaming and running, and it was hot and the whole Zoo smelled.
The next day, I begged Stacy to come with us; she had been having a great trip with Miles. I told her Youself couldn’t mess this up. He is taking us to a museum.
Youself was driving and we finally arrived and the museum. I read the sign…The… Museum… of… Tolerance. I thought I maybe its about angry musicians, who can’t tolerate the government so they made music about how they cant tolerate it. And this is the museum dedicated to those creative musicians and what they were going through.
Then I thought, it could be about artist who can’t tolerate the destruction of trees or something, so they painted their anger. The word tolerance was throwing me off, I couldn’t figure out what kind of museum this was.
It didn’t matter because museums are beautiful and romantic. I was happy because this was our first date.
I notice we are the only black people walking up to the door. This must be a very high-class museum, I whispered to Stacy. We walked in and were given card with a child on it. I was thinking, they really go over the whole history of each artist. That’s incredible.
I soon realized that this was a museum about the Holocaust, and their survivors. We each went through a maze peaking throw caves and seeing pictures of hundreds of Jews, dead or looked to be starving to death. Stacy told me I owed her big time for this.
This was the most depressing place I had ever been to in my life and I use to play the piano and sing at funerals. The pictures were heart breaking and Stacy was crying.
I was so sad and angry at Youself I couldn’t even speak. The girl on my card didn’t survive; she died at only eight years old. Youself took us to get icecream after going to the Museum Of Tolerance. Icecream! Stacy and I just looked at him while he had a strawberry malt. What a fool, I thought. We were depressed all the way back to Florida.
Stacy and I didn’t speak the whole trip back…
Youself had the nerve to call me and ask me when I was going to visit again!
LoVe Ya,
GloZell
Showing posts with label bad dates. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bad dates. Show all posts
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Why GloZell is dating a white man… part 2
My mother has been calling me asking why don’t you like black people? People have been calling me and telling me that you said that you don’t like black people.
That is not true, Gloria Jean Robinson Green. I wish she would read the blog herself before calling me all times of the night.
I was in the restaurant Uncle Andre’s B-B-Q in Studio City. Some of us musicians go there after church if we have go back and play later on. It takes about 2 hrs to get your food. It is so slow, but the ribs are great.
One day, these two black guys were in there. One was very good looking. His name was Shaqkobe. I thought he was joking because that was when Shaq and Kobe were playing together. He said no, that’s what he was named 27 years ago. I didn’t care - he was still hot. (See mother I said the black guy was hot)
He called months later, but I didn’t forget his name. We made plans to go out, but he cancelled them the day of. Whatever.
Months go by, and I’m in Ralph’s grocery store and I see Shaqkobe in line. He said, Glo I lost your phone number, I was moving; I don’t know what happed to it. Yes! He lost my number, of course he would have called me. I had it going on I was teaching at Bryman College at the time and had a nice apartment on Moorpark in Studio City, life was good.
Shaqkobe called after weeks and we made plans to go to the movies. It was a hot July month. I was in the valley, where it’s even hotter.
My phone rings its Shaqkobe! I was looking good, if I say so myself. Lots of T and A.
Shaqkobe looked different in the night light. What happened to the nice hair cut, and nice clothes?
Shaqkobe’s hair had grown out, and it looked like he tried to wet it with some curl spray or something; His hair was dripping at the ends. He had on a long sleeve yellow plaid shirt with blue pant that had an opposing pattern on them. I looked down and, oh my goodness!
The brother was wearing Uggs!
Every white girl in the world was wearing the snow boots Uggs at that time. Snow boots, it’s July… in California! They didn’t even look the right size. Shaqkobe stuffed his feet in some Uggs? I had to ask him, because it was hot outside and I didn’t’ know men wear Uggs? I didn’t know black people wear Uggs. He looked like a bonafide fool. Shaqkobe said that this was his style.
I was thinking I’ll just get through this date and that will be that. We get into his old junky car and as soon as he shut the door, the smell hit me like my grandmother would do if you talked to her while she was watching "The Price is right". It smelt like fresh pee.
I couldn’t breathe but I was trying to be polite. I asked is it all right if I break this window to get to some oxygen? Shaqkobe told me that his car was in the shop and that he was borrowing this one. On the way to the movies he was asking me about my apartment, how many rooms, if I lived alone, how long have I been teaching.
I told him I live by myself, it’s a one bedroom, I pay $1,020 a month. I asked him where does he live? He said he was in between homes. I thought to my self… if you are in between jobs that means you don’t have a job… so if you are between homes that means you are… oh my goodness! I ‘m dating a homeless man and I’m trapped in his moving bathroom.
We get to the movies and he tries to pay with his Ralph’s card. I thought I was going to die! I said you can’t pay the Movie Theater with your grocery card. I paid.
I was a little scared. I didn’t’ know my way around California yet and I needed him to take me back home.
I don’t remember the movie, but I remembered when he passed gas during it. I saw vapors like the Halls cough drops used in their commercials, and something dripped off his hair on me.
He finally took me home and had the nerve to want to come inside my apartment. He truly must have bumped his head twice. He looked crazy, and smelled like hot donkey.
I didn’t let him in, and I never went out with him again! Tune in next week for part 3…
Remember, say it loud, I’m black and I’m proud!…
LoVe Ya, (but not Shaqkobe)
GloZell
That is not true, Gloria Jean Robinson Green. I wish she would read the blog herself before calling me all times of the night.
I was in the restaurant Uncle Andre’s B-B-Q in Studio City. Some of us musicians go there after church if we have go back and play later on. It takes about 2 hrs to get your food. It is so slow, but the ribs are great.
One day, these two black guys were in there. One was very good looking. His name was Shaqkobe. I thought he was joking because that was when Shaq and Kobe were playing together. He said no, that’s what he was named 27 years ago. I didn’t care - he was still hot. (See mother I said the black guy was hot)
He called months later, but I didn’t forget his name. We made plans to go out, but he cancelled them the day of. Whatever.
Months go by, and I’m in Ralph’s grocery store and I see Shaqkobe in line. He said, Glo I lost your phone number, I was moving; I don’t know what happed to it. Yes! He lost my number, of course he would have called me. I had it going on I was teaching at Bryman College at the time and had a nice apartment on Moorpark in Studio City, life was good.
Shaqkobe called after weeks and we made plans to go to the movies. It was a hot July month. I was in the valley, where it’s even hotter.
My phone rings its Shaqkobe! I was looking good, if I say so myself. Lots of T and A.
Shaqkobe looked different in the night light. What happened to the nice hair cut, and nice clothes?
Shaqkobe’s hair had grown out, and it looked like he tried to wet it with some curl spray or something; His hair was dripping at the ends. He had on a long sleeve yellow plaid shirt with blue pant that had an opposing pattern on them. I looked down and, oh my goodness!
The brother was wearing Uggs!
Every white girl in the world was wearing the snow boots Uggs at that time. Snow boots, it’s July… in California! They didn’t even look the right size. Shaqkobe stuffed his feet in some Uggs? I had to ask him, because it was hot outside and I didn’t’ know men wear Uggs? I didn’t know black people wear Uggs. He looked like a bonafide fool. Shaqkobe said that this was his style.
I was thinking I’ll just get through this date and that will be that. We get into his old junky car and as soon as he shut the door, the smell hit me like my grandmother would do if you talked to her while she was watching "The Price is right". It smelt like fresh pee.
I couldn’t breathe but I was trying to be polite. I asked is it all right if I break this window to get to some oxygen? Shaqkobe told me that his car was in the shop and that he was borrowing this one. On the way to the movies he was asking me about my apartment, how many rooms, if I lived alone, how long have I been teaching.
I told him I live by myself, it’s a one bedroom, I pay $1,020 a month. I asked him where does he live? He said he was in between homes. I thought to my self… if you are in between jobs that means you don’t have a job… so if you are between homes that means you are… oh my goodness! I ‘m dating a homeless man and I’m trapped in his moving bathroom.
We get to the movies and he tries to pay with his Ralph’s card. I thought I was going to die! I said you can’t pay the Movie Theater with your grocery card. I paid.
I was a little scared. I didn’t’ know my way around California yet and I needed him to take me back home.
I don’t remember the movie, but I remembered when he passed gas during it. I saw vapors like the Halls cough drops used in their commercials, and something dripped off his hair on me.
He finally took me home and had the nerve to want to come inside my apartment. He truly must have bumped his head twice. He looked crazy, and smelled like hot donkey.
I didn’t let him in, and I never went out with him again! Tune in next week for part 3…
Remember, say it loud, I’m black and I’m proud!…
LoVe Ya, (but not Shaqkobe)
GloZell
Labels:
bad dates,
homeless people,
interracial dating,
Kobe,
Shaq
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