Wednesday, August 31, 2011

The White Rapper

I met the white rapper at a bar. You will see in many of these blogs, I meet the guys at bars or online…and I wonder why I’m writing this book instead of living happily ever after. But the truth is, where do meet people? Anyways, I met him right after I had my heart broken for the first time. (Yes, first time. I made it to 30 before ever having my heart broken…I used to be the breaker. What the heck happened? I have obviously lost my touch!)

Point is, the White Rapper was cute, and he gave me confidence that maybe life would go on…maybe! Of course, at the time, I didn’t realize what the options were like out there. But it was fun…it was fun to flirt for the first time in a couple years. It was fun to get that initial rush of crushness!
So we talked and flirted…and he asked for my number. ..Umm…heck yes, you can have it!

He called a couple days later, and we went to lunch. We covered the typical first date stuff… likes, dislikes, etc. I asked him what he does for work and what type of music he listened to. He said he was in the midst of building an Internet based business, and that he mostly listens to country. Now, for some reason, I love it when guys listen to country… I personally am not a huge fan of it…but I have assumptions about guys that are. I picture them being good ole cowboys, that love their trucks and their mamas…and aren’t afraid of hard work, or taking care of their lady. I mean, who wouldn’t want that?

I left the date feeling pretty good. I met a cute cowboy that dressed like a soccer player, and had a sense of humor and some motivation. (And when I say soccer player, I mean off field…you know, jeans, t-shirt, and pumas. Totally soccer.)
But, more importantly, I left the date with the essential tools to check him out…his last name.

As I’m sure many of you know, there are fantastic websites out there to search all of the dirt on whoever you want dirt on. Because I meet men online and at bars, I find it crucial to determine if they have a criminal record. Although the law doesn’t record their porn addictions or hive fiving obsessions, at least you know they haven’t killed someone…and been caught. So you have at least a 50/50 chance they haven’t actually killed someone. (By the way, the 50/50 thing is not backed up by any data…I’m guessing… It’s probably only a 77% chance they didn’t kill… right?... Hopefully)
So I searched the dirt on him. He had no criminal record, owned a computer business (looking good so far), and had a MySpace page…that was not set to private. So I, My-stalked.

On his page, there were videos. So I obviously started to watch. It was someone rapping, and they were pretty good. Who is it? A friend? Is he promoting someone? And then, it happened… a close up, and…It was him! He is a rapper! A White Rapper! Like Eminem!
A rapper? He didn't even mention rap as a music interest. I can honestly say, i didn't see this coming.

Anyways, we went on a few dates. And I kept waiting, and waiting…nothing. He hadn’t said a word about it. As far as he knew, I just thought he liked country... and soccer.
And then, finally, the day came… The day of Confession. He came over to watch a movie, this is when he admitted that he raps. I said “oh really, like Eminem or something?” (I couldn’t let him know I already knew his public record and had seen his videos.) I was trying to play it cool! I asked him about groupies, where he raps, how often, etc. He said it is mostly in the past. That it was time to grow up. PHEW!!!!

So we start kissing. Not because he raps..I don’t just go around kissing rappers… which, actually, I can’t say that for sure… This is the first and only rapper I have had an opportunity to kiss. So maybe, it is my thing.
So, as I am kissing the White Rapper, I can tell he is getting a bit too into it. I tell him about my strict pants on rule. He doesn’t seem thrilled. He says “well what am I supposed to do? Aren’t you going to at least give me a hand job to take care of this?” really? A hand job? This doesn’t happen often…but I was speechless. I don’t think I have ever been asked for a hand job...  These rappers move fast. Kissing to hand jobs in 60 seconds flat. Now, I know the standard date rule... 3 dates to you may be thinking I am a bit prude, seeing as I was put off by a hand job request, but so be it. Like I said, I have a strict Pants On Rule.

So, after my momentary brain lapse (from the shock value), I pointed to my bathroom, and told him he was welcome to give himself a hand job.

Needless to say…the rest of the movie was a bit awkward.

Ugh, Dating!


  1. ROTFL! My favorite line: "...good ole cowboys, that love their trucks and their mamas..."

    I love your blog!

  2. Your first good story...congrats!! I didn't even see it coming..this is the kind of stuff I was talking about :-)


  3. Love this blog Chelsea! Keep 'em coming. Though I'd much rather see you find an awesome guy. :)