I won’t lie — when I was single, I played the game too. And what better situation did I have on my hands when a football player from my college was a virgin. Playing hard to get had never been so fun. He was your typical football hunk, from a smaller town and loved Jesus. He was immature for his age, still in the, “What would u do if i was with u right now ;)” phase. A freshman, of course. He was still cute as heck, so I wanted to try and see what he was about.
And I bet you’re asking yourself, But Keely, why even bother if he’s a f*ck boy? Well, because he was so into church and had many people who spoke highly of him (via stalking his Facebook) that I thought maybe he had a good personality deep down.
After one night of watching Halloween movies at his place, it was true that he was saving his first time for marriage. Honestly, a shocker. A good thing though, and a very good sign.
A couple of weeks later, I get a text from him. He invited me to the party he was at. I didn’t really want to go, I had been in for the night. But I was caught up on hating myself for not ever doing anything, so I went anyway.
The party was a little awkward. Two black dudes were standing on the counter dancing, grabbing all the attention. There was zero room to move — the place was packed like sardines. It smelled of weed and cigarettes combined. Gross.
After about 20 minutes of awkwardness, he asked if I was ready to go and I nodded. He said he had gotten a ride there so I offered to take him home, because we lived in the same apartment complex anyway. Along the way, I repeatedly told him how tired I was just so that he wouldn’t get any ideas. Just in case.
We got to his apartment, which was three buildings down from mine, and I stopped my car. He was pretty drunk, and clearly feeling very courageous.
“Let’s go to your place,” he said.
Godddddd. Not again.
I declined. He persisted. I declined again. He kept persisting.
He then told me, “I’m not getting out of his car until you come with me.”
Oh HELLLLLLL no. With the anger already boiling within me from the last incident, I was in no mood for this bullsh** with yet another douche.
Then I let him have it. “I’m not F*CKING playing with you. I’m going home, and you’re getting out of my car, NOW. Or I swear to God I will tase you. Do you understand me? Get the F*CK out of my car.”
He gave me a shocked look, and said, “Jesus, fine…” He got out and I sped off. In a rage, as you might have guessed.
It was so shocking to me that he would be that way, I guess because of how innocent he was sober. I almost tasered that sucker.
And I honestly should have.