#PettyWap

The term Petty Wap was introduced to me, possibly coined?, by a dear friend of mine who shall remain nameless.  I am forever grateful  to her for keeping me updated on what the kids are doing and saying these days.

​Y'all... I am a 28 year old woman. That's not old, but it's old enough to, as my mother puts it, "know better".
Here are some texts I've sent to 'gentleman callers' where I haven fallen short of "knowing better". 

Exhibit A:

To the right is a text I sent at 3:39 AM to a hot co-worker I had had a crush on for A WHILE. *Spoiler* NOTHING HAPPENED.

As you will read, I was not intoxicated. I truly had just woken up in the middle of the night, wanted waffles, and wanted to see hot co-worker's face (... and maybe his penis). SO... with absolutely no knowledge of his romantic status, his schedule, or even if he liked waffles, I GOT HIS NUMBER FROM FACEBOOK LIKE A FUCK-GIRL STALKER, and proceeded to aggressively invite him to waffles. Thankfully, he was asleep, and did not respond.

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Exhibit B:

To the left (to the left) was texted when I WAS intoxicated. Please note the correct spelling and punctuation. I did a damn good job.

I texted this to a boy I had, once again, been crushing on for A WHILE, but there was history there. It was a torrid romance. Waffles weren't going to fix it, but oh how I wanted them too!

This technique is one I have abandoned in lieu of, ya know, actual communication, but a tactic I relied HEAVILY on in the past. It is where you text the person you are interested in, and when they do not respond, simply pretend they have and carry on the conversation, effectively filling their inbox, and your heart with only the words you want to hear.

Also, it must be noted, I have "a thing" for breakfast foods, particularly waffles. And by "a thing", I mean I think waffles and breakfast foods in general are sexy "AF". People who don't eat breakfast confuse me. It's a deal breaker.

Exhibit C:

So this broseph I had also crushed on for, you guessed it,  A WHILE. Are we seeing a pattern? Yeah, me too! I must have a thing for unrequited love, and a problem admitting my romantic feelings!

The picture is shit, and blurry because I had to block out the name of the restaurant he worked at, where I was eating with 2 friends. After two margaritas each, they encouraged me to text "the hot door guy" I'd been telling them about for forever. Note the petty-aggression.

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He then said he wasn't working. Surprise! Figured that'n out. I then subtly dropped that I wasn't with my boyfriend anymore...

STORY TIME! I met this broseph at a party in the fall of 2014. We were attracted to each other, but never exchanged numbers. A missed connection! Fast-forward to the summer of 2015 and who happens to be acting in a play I attend?! This missed connection! Only one problem... I had a boyfriend by then. So when broseph hits me up after getting my number through a mutual friend, I was sad to tell him I was 'taken'. Yes, my feelings of sadness to be with someone and not going for this missed connection made me a shithead. It wasn't "cheating", but it wasn't right. We broke up shortly after, but that's a different story...

After the subtle drop of "Btw, single," I decided to "invite him" through a picture text and witty banter, per usual.

Note the "good chair, though" line. Solid retort. Also note the "you tempt me", that'll come back later...

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Note the subtle, truly subtle, way I figure out where he is in relation to me. We have established that I'm probably a stalker. I'm not convinced, but one day when I am ready to admit who I really am, this blog will no doubt be helpful to me, and the District Attorney that uses these words as evidence against me in a court of law... 

I still land a solid joke about being a total stage 5 clinger. I'm not crazy. I'm just, like, really funny! HAHAHAHAHA.

Please don't call the cops.

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 ... Remember that "you tempt me" line? Yeah... check out that girlfriend drop, and the cheeky "We are bad at timing."

I have already admitted that I am a shithead, but now I get to reveal, HE'S A SHITHEAD, TOO!! Does that stop me though? NOPE! I'm still being a garbage human.

Note the sarcastic  "Lol. Rofl."

​"Tag you're it."  was a second choice. My first choice line was much more bold. My friends advised against texting it, so I kept it inside . . . I kept it inside for two whole months . . .

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​Do we wanna guess what happens next? *Spoiler Alert* Nothing good! 

One month later, I get a text from broseph, "Let's try this again." His girlfriend had cheated on him, and they broke it off. So what do I do? Go out on a date with a wounded-ego'd broseph! Annnnd wouldn't you guess it? A month after that, it's soooo over. I tried, I really tried to not be petty, but that line I had wanted to use from way back when was killing me. It had to be done. When he ended things with I heavily worded statement on how he was trying to be a better person and blah blah blah, I cut that shit off with:

Exhibit D:

  This text is funnier out of context. Not gonna bother going into the story...

Exhibit D:

Now, this one... This one is my pride and joy...

My biggest lapse in dating judgement was when I dated a man twice my age plus one year. We met on a Sugar Baby dating website. If you don't know what that is, take a sec and google it. I'll wait.... 

You googled it? Great... Yeah, Mom, I know I know, Mom, I know. In my defense, Faith and I were doing research for a screenplay we were going to write. It was research! ... until I came across his profile. I'm embarrassed to admit, I fell for him from the second I read his profile. He just sounded honest, and hopeful, and thoughtful. I fall really hard for thoughtful... well... a twisted/dark sense of humor, and thoughtfulness. It exists, I swear.

We dated for two weeks, TWO WEEKS, and I cannot express to you how torn up I was when he ghosted me. He had said all the right things. He made me feel special. And then he was gone. He stopped answering phone calls, only texted a quick, "Out of town! See you soon!"

And then four weeks later... like a stalker... I find his Facebook page. And I see that he has just posted a picture. I will refrain from showing the picture, as I have no one's consent to do so. It's two teenage girls half-naked and playing Twister in his living room. By clicking on their profiles, I saw that one was 19. The other had just turned 18.

So.. I called. And I called. And I called. And finally, I left a message. In a goddess-like voice I had never heard come out of my body, I calmly roared, "Hey (his name), this is Laura. Just wanted you to know, I'm out. You fucking piece of shit."

He then IMMEDIATELY TEXTED BACK:
​

So what did I do? Oh dear reader.... Oh I pulled out my petty handbook, and I did not take the high road... I screen cap'd that Girls Gone Wild picture and I texted back:

BUT I DIDN'T STOP THERE! OH NO, I DIDN'T STOP THERE! I then did the ultimate take down. I texted him Game of Thrones spoilers:

Surprisingly, I never heard from him again.

Were there better ways to have dealt with that situation? More classy ways? Yes, most definitely. But the more I look back on it, I don't regret a second of that texting furry. And ya know what? At that time I DIDN'T KNOW BETTER. I didn't know I was susceptible to scum bags, to manipulation, and now I do. 

In Conclusion...

I have grown a lot of the years, but two things remain the same:

1. Waffles are fucking delicious.
2. Don't fuck with me, or I'll find out where you live... and send you Game of Thrones spoilers.