Two proposals in one weekend.
That’s a little much.
ESPECIALLY when there isn’t any basis for them. No, I’m sorry, “Love at First Sight” is not a good reason to ask me to spend the rest of my life committed to you and NO, I am not prepared to have a child with you, especially if you expect it to be a son. How about we do this instead: You never call me again, ok? Good luck finding someone else. I’m sure you will. I really hope you do.
And he was a babalao, a Santeria priest. To say I was creeped out would be to put it mildly. Yes, God is bigger, but that doesn’t mean those other “gods” aren’t big. And I am not sure why they keep wanting to mess with me, but I’m not into it.
On Sunday, another babalao offered to be my sugar daddy. I could live in his home where there would be constant parties and dancing and my job description would be: Arm Candy.
Gentlemen, you do not treat Kikita that way. She has way too much life in her to agree to be a “kept woman.”
When I wasn’t having it, he tried to pimp me out to his younger friend. (Oh, did I forget to mention this fool was probably in his 50s?)
The other proposal came from a long time friend who needed a favor. Unfortunately for him, when we stopped dating and crossed into the friend one, there would be no going back. All politics aside, I just could’t do it.
There was another guy who asked me to be his girlfriend and I gave him the same answer, “Thank you, but no.”
(Sometimes it really is difficult being so damned amazing.)