‘Twas my birthday week and at the top of my wish list was a Rays vs Yankees game. I used to cheer for the Rays so I was excited to have my team in town. With much hesitation and “baseball is boring”, the guy I was seeing finally agreed to take me. The fact that I had to convince him to take me was strike one. Birthdays are huge for me. I’ll go out of my way for someone’s special day & if it’s not returned, neither are your phone calls.
He then proceeded to tell me I should take off my rays shirt, hat, and stickers off my face because “Yankees fans are crazy and will harass you”. Or are you just a little bitch and can’t stick up for me when they do? Regardless, no guy tells me what to wear or not wear, ever. Strike two. During the game, I was on cloud nine but my date soon lowered me to the ground. He complained about the sport and he was miserable to be around. Anytime I brought up cheering or baseball, he seemed annoyed. He told me I should move on from my old life…. The fuck? Strike three.
“Cotton eyed joe” started playing and I tried to show him the dance routine I used to do when I cheered. He stops me and says “Enough! I don’t wanna see it, just stop. Guys have been staring at you all night, don’t give them more of a reason to. ” My jaw dropped. That insecure mother fucker. That’s that shit I don’t like. That’s the shit I’ve dealt with for years. Three strikes you’re out asshole. Not even traded because no one wants your crazy ass. I was so angry. I called him out for being a miserable fuck that killed my vibe all night. I told him I needed a man, not a boy, and I left him at the stadium.