Wrecked Mercedes

Women are… they’re… ugh.

On Friday morning I was minding my business at the bank job doing my rounds in the parking garage. When I got to the first floor, guess who I see at the entrance to the parking garage? Mercedes.

A little background. Mercedes and I used to work together at the bank job—me being the security guard and she being one of the building cleaners. Mercedes is from Bosnia and has an amazing body, almost as if it were built for sex. And Bosnians, in my experience, are amazing sexually. Anyway, when she got fired I decided to hit her up and we started having sex—only sex. She was 19 at the time and I’ve never desired to date anyone that I consider too young. Mercedes is extremely ghetto, which makes for great sex but not much more than that. And the pretentiousness and naivety of 18-21 year olds are way too annoying for me. So we agreed on having just sex. As time went on, she started inviting me to go out to do boyfriend/girlfriend things like going to a movie or going out to eat. That, plus my suspicions of her being on drugs, led to me ending it. That was all the way back in 2011. When I bought property Charlie a couple months ago, I decided to contact her again so I could have some celebratory sex. Afterwards, she was texting me and sending me picture texts that I ignored. Once it stopped, I figured that she got the point and moved on. Guess I was wrong.

I walked down to her and I could see she wanted to fight. She had that ghetto look—you know, the one where the woman has her arms folded and what looks like a crank in her neck? When I got to her she started in with:

Mercedes: Yeah. So you know me now right? You can't pick up your fucking phone?!

Great. What made it worse was she was doing this in front of the parking booth lady, who is one of the nosiest people I’ve ever met. I wanted to grab Mercedes by her hair, but I grabbed her arm instead and lead her to my car. My vehicle, I believed, was the most private place I could think of. When we got there, Mercedes was surprised that I’d gotten a new car. Shit! I completely forgot that she never knew about me getting an MDX, as I bought it after our rendevous. I knew then that if I didn’t handle this properly, I’m gonna walk in the garage one day and find my tires slashed. We both got in and she started in again:

Mercedes: So?

 I really didn’t know what to do. I’m not very good at being put on the spot, especially in a volatile situation like this. I could be either very nice or very cruel, but I couldn’t think of a middle ground. I just had a ton of angry thoughts in my head and not one of them would have helped the situation. So was left with only one option: I said nothing. I looked straight ahead and said nothing while she continued her yelling. I can only quote certain things she said because I was trying not to pay attention.

Mercedes: Sitting there all quiet and shit. You ain’t got nothing to say?!

Me: …

Mercedes: You want me and you call and I’m gonna come runnin’, but when I call you you gonna push me aside? Like I’m ya ho. I ain’t no ho! I got two kids at home and I take care of mne. I ain’t no ho!

Me: …

Mercedes (after what seemed like an eternal pause): We done?

(Finally, something I could answer to.)

Me: Yeah. 

Mercedes: A'ight.

One would have to imagine her saying all this with a slight Bosnian accent. I would really like to hunt down and kill whoever taught her the English language. She actually said a lot more than this, but I can only remember these lines (which were the gist of the one-sided argument anyway). We got out of the car. As she was leaving, she stopped and walked back towards me. I thought, “Oh great, here comes the slap. How the hell am I gonna respond to this?” Instead she gave me a hug and then departed. I walked around in the garage for a little while to clear my head. I began judging myself on how I did and what I could have done to avoid this confrontation. As much as I’d love to blame this situation on women being crazy, I think the “My Fault” philosophy applies here.

First of all, I shouldn’t have had sex with Mercedes. Even though I set the rules and the rules were clear, I also knew that she’s very clingy and catches feelings way too quickly. But I was too lazy. I knew Mercedes’ body extremely well and I didn’t wanna go through the process of finding someone new and getting to know her and all that stuff. It seemed like too much work for what would amount to be a one night stand. And, when we were done, I remember Mercedes asking me when we were gonna hook up again. I should have told her that it was a one time thing but instead I said something vague like “I’ll let you know”. That was my second mistake. The third mistake was ignoring her texts and calls afterwards, but I’ve always done that in the past with no problem. It’s one of the rules of the game, isn’t it? Besides, I figured that someone who looks like her would get the hint and find another guy in no time, so why go through the drama of conversation?

So it’s no more Mercedes for me. Even though that hug left the door open for me to get with her again, I’m done with her. In fact, no more ghetto chicks. They may be great fun for a while, but eventually the drama always starts. I’m just lucky that I got out of it reasonably unscathed. Mercedes is an extremely sexy but emotionally weak woman who uses her body to get what she thinks she wants, and she usually gets it. And, if she weren’t so weak and actually had some form of substance, we’d probably be having sex every other day. You know, there are a ton of bad things I could say about my ex-girlfriend Marla, but one thing I liked about her was that she sticks to the rules of the game. We bumped into each other a couple weeks ago at a diner I like to go to, the first time she and I were in the same room in over 3 years. We gave a slight wave to each other and then stayed on opposite sides of the diner. When I got my food, I went my way. Perfect. That’s how one handles a post-break up situation, especially one that ended so bad. We stuck to the rules of the game and there was no drama. Mercedes could learn a thing or two from Marla.

I guess when I really think about it, it’s not just a woman thing. Guys catch feelings all the time with women that clearly want them only for money or sex. While I don’t quite understand why someone would put themselves through that kind of pain for a hopeless cause, shit happens. But I’ve learned my lesson and I’m moving on. Now it’s all about real estate. Now it’s all about making money. Now it’s all about retirement. Now, it’s back to being all about me. When I get property Delta next year, I'll be much more careful in who I choose.

P.S.: I think it's important to point out that, once again, I wasn't tempted to lose my temper. Full control. I had nothing good to say so I kept my mouth shut and it actually worked. I'll have to use this tactic more often, as I usually say or do the wrong thing when put on the spot.