Hello my beloved readers! I’ve missed all of you. Work has been killing me lately. But I’ve come up for air again, to be with all of you.
Due to the fact that work has been a major Bitch lately, tax season… I haven’t had much time for dating. But that hasn’t stopped me from helping out my girls on their dating escapades.
My girlfriend has been dating tall, dark, and handsome for three months. She’s practically in love with him. So this has made her oblivious. He’s showing cautionary signs that every single woman should know and be aware of.
What are the cautionary signs? I’m so glad that you asked my beloved readers. They are as follows:
1. Not wanting to meet any friends or family
2. Never wanting to be seen in public
3. No pictures or social media posting or tagging
4. Not a dog lover
5. Never invited over to his place
6. Protective of his phone
7. Last minute cancellations
8. Buying exorbitant gifts to make up for mistakes
I look out for my girls. So a friend and I decided to do a little snooping. FYI, to all my male readers. Women are the best investigators when motivated. No need to hire a PI, just grab a girlfriend.
A quick google search provides his address. Thank you White Pages. Then a drive by provides possible enlightenment. There’s a woman in the drive way (as we drive by) unloading groceries. Now in his defense, single guy that could be many things. A family member, maid, friend of the family, or his assistant. This is not proof. But it’s not looking great. Did I mention she’s pretty? She’s got decent taste. I can recognize Gucci from miles away.
Preliminary research has been completed. It’s time to into stealth mode. Thank goodness I own a lot of black. I’ve got a getaway driver and lookout. See TV & movies can be educational and of course we have the elixir of life to keep us awake so we won’t miss pertinent evidence.
We are in a new vehicle (my girlfriend’s boyfriend’s truck, he just handed us the keys while shaking his head). He informed us if there are any issues, gun is under the seat. My beloved readers, this is the South. Most individuals are armed. The truck lights are off, we are parked two houses down, with a line of sight, and phones on silent.
It’s go time.
Pretty woman’s vehicle is no longer in the driveway. Front porch light is off. It’s safe to do some recon.
I hop out, looking fabulous in all black. Just because I’m snooping doesn’t mean I can’t look good doing it. I casually walk up to the house. I step onto the grass and squish. The grass is saturated with water. Thank goodness I wore my boots. I try to peek thru the front windows I can’t see anything. I text my cohorts in the truck, it’s a no go. I’m preceding to the rear. With my iPhone flashlight in hand and dog leash (I need a plausible excuse for trespassing around someone else’s property, I lost my dog. You get the point.). I check the gate, Eureka! It’s open. It’s like he wanted us to snoop. How considerate of him.
I check the corners and windows for cameras, I don’t see any… I think. Fingers crossed. I’m hugging the gate, then the wall of the house, just like the spy movies taught me. I see the bay window. This is the perfect spot. I’m about to hit gold. I crouch down and turn off my iPhone light.
I turn on my camera so I can look inside thru the bay window. I see a sofa with two sets of feet… TV glow reveals Gucci pumps and our suspect. And she is doing more then putting away the groceries. MEN! I need evidence. I switch my phone to video, and record. I squish, squish in the grass to get into a better position.
I’ve got the fucking bastard now!
I hear rustling to my left. Suddenly a wet nose is nuzzling my hand. Dog? He wasn’t supposed to have a dog. Just one more thing he lied about. This is no guard dog. He trying to sit in my lap. He’s so sweet!
Then it happens.
It starts to fucking rain. Well not really rain. The automatic sprinkler system has come on.
FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!
I jerk from the surprise of the water. The sweet dog begins to bark. Oh shit! It’s time to evacuate. Every woman for herself! Run don’t look back. Goodbye puppy!
I’m running and squishing in the front yard. I’m calling the girls, saying code blue, code blue! My foot then catches on one of the sprinkler heads. I go down in slowmo. I’m watching myself fall. I see the wet grass and know my face is about to hit it.
FUCK MY LIFE.
I’m officially splayed across the front lawn. I’m a little dazed from the fall. I roll over and see the stars. My lookout is on the way to get me. But suddenly it’s not raining anymore and there’s a bright light. No this can’t be it. This can’t be how I go out. I’m not even in the good shoes. I’m in boots!
Grocery Gucci mistress is holding an umbrella and shining a light on me asking, “Are you alright? Do you need help?”
Pause for my mind to work thru all scenarios….
I reply, “I’ve lost my dog (tearing up while holding the leash). I thought I saw him in your bushes. I heard barking. I thought it was my baby.”
Her reply, “Oh you poor thing. Let me help you up.”
This is when my lookout walks up. She comes over and says, “Oh my gosh! What happened? Did you find him?” I gotta give her credit she doesn’t miss a beat.
We thank Grocery Gucci for her help and limp off to the truck. Once I’m in, of course the girls ask if I’ve got it. I reply, “We are going to nail him to the wall, with my Prada pumps.”
Quote: You call it peeking… I prefer to think of it as private investigating”