As promised, Finesse here with Part Two of my Side Chick Memoirs.
The second time I unwittingly became a side chick, it was only a year after the first incident. As I became a little more popular around my town with all the modeling/promoting and what not, I began dealing with a lot of “entertainer” types. One particular night I ran into a man whom I shall henceforth refer to as “Sherman” (once again, names have been changed to protect the innocent). Sherman was on the rise as “the man” in our city. He was not bad looking, and could probably talk a Nun up out of her dress. People (specifically women) liked Sherman because he had “swag”, and by some extension of that perception, MONEY.
When I met Sherman, I was not impressed. But, as I said, he was a charmer and I soon found myself dating him….If we want to call Waffle House, the Club and my spot “Dating”. I never asked why we didn’t go better places, mainly because I knew he had women fighting for his attention under the perception that he had money. I didn’t want to appear to be a gold digger like so many before me, and so I never made it known that I did not consider Golden Corral an acceptable date. Mistake Number One. Sherman and I were, by his own admission, together, but he refused to change his relationship status on Facebook because he wanted to “protect me” from his “groupies”. I obliged because, hey, I wasn’t in this for a come up.
Time passed, Sherman and I constantly argued about random acts of fxckery involving him and women. His philosophy was “Them girls don’t mean nothing to me, I’m here with YOU” and like a pure idiot, I bought into it.
One night, after dating Sherman for a while, I receive a phone number from a “Blocked” number…at Midnight…. I would like to point out that NOTHING good ever comes from a blocked number. It’s NEVER anyone calling to tell you that you’ve just won a million dollars, for instance. Behind every blocked number is ALWAYS something bad. DO NOT pick up the phone unless you are ready for some Bullsh**.
Anyway, the conversation progressed something like this:
Voice: You f***in’ with my man b****???
Me: Excuse me?
Voice: B**** you heard me! You f***in’ with my man?
Voice (now identified as Sherman’s “friend” whom he is living with, Shatoya): You need to stay the hell away from Sherman.
Me: And why would I do that when that’s my boyfriend?
Shatoya: He’s MY man! YOU need to find your own man? You can’t find a man! Where YOUR man at boo? ‘Cuz mine is here sleep! Where’s yours?
Me: Evidently he’s laying there sleep in the bed with you….Wake him up and ask him who I am to him.
Shatoya: (to Sherman) Wake up…..You f***in’ Finesse???? That’s your woman? Here, she’s on the phone!!!
*in the background* Sherman: Wh-who on the phone? YOU GOIN’ THRU MY PHONE????
And THAT is how I found out that I was a “Side Chick”…You see, despite my having never been to HIS house…Despite him never acknowledging our relationship on Social media, even though he LIVED on Facebook….Despite him never taking me on real dates, or telling the people in our circle what our real relationship was…..I thought everything was Kosher. Because I let him SHAME me for wanting real dates, acknowledgments and some occasional affection, I never caught the fact that I was just a side thing.
Did I leave? Nope.
He told me he wasn’t with her, that was just his friend….She wanted him and was jealous. I believed that story right up until I found out Shatoya was pregnant….
And that my friends, is another hot mess, for another day.
But what I did learn is to ALWAYS remain skeptical….And to trust myself. I think too often people don’t listen to that little voice that says:
“This sh** is Fishy.”
I’ve since learned to listen to that voice and follow it. It’s never a good look to be anyone’s Fool.
Until next time….