Damn, it feels good to be a Gangsta

It's been a couple of weeks since I knew it was over with him. He so obviously doesn't like me. He has a few flaws that I don't care to be around for more than ten minutes or so at a time. He doesn't want to have sex with me. He only comes around when he wants something and I'm sick of giving and not recieving anything in return.
Tonight he came to my window and asked if I was coming over. I said no.
"Why not?"
"Because I will just go there and get comfy, then you will pick a fight over something and I'll have to put my shoes on and go home. I'd rather just stay home."
"No, Coney, come over, I won't do that."
"I don't have any money."
"I don't care just come over."
"But, you don't like me, remember?"
Then he left.
I kind of feel bad. I'd love to go over there, but I just shouldn't.


=============


My date thing on Sunday went fine. I wouldn't mind hanging out with him again sometime. He's very handsome and he has a job and a vehicle. His son was cute, smart and well behaved.
I should make a better show of pursuing this.
I've just never really dated before, not sure how.
I don't have his phone number so I can't call him, but I should email him and thank him for putting up with me for a couple of hours.

Oh, please, universe, let me not be used and abused and yet not die alone. How much is
that to ask, really? Come on! I can't have cats here. Help a girl out.

Can a punk rock girl make it with a white boy that listens to gangsta rap?

Stay tuned.