No, it’s not missing a “Y” it’s smoke.. as in I was forced to blow “smoke” up the ass of the Bandit! Let me explain.
WARNING: This is about to be a rant…
I was out with two of my girls this weekend, we were at a fishing competition (my first, wasn’t a big learning curve) at a beautiful marina. And of course where there are beautiful marinas there are beautiful boats. I know nothing about boats, except that I like to be on them out in the water. The girls on the other hand, knew a lot about boats, so when given the opportunity to check one out, they jumped at it.
I didn’t object, there was a hot 26-year-old on the crew..
We get to the boat and the girls went off on a tour. I think you all know me well enough by now to know I’m suspicious by nature. You’ve got to earn my trust, so I wasn’t following anyone inside the boat! Especially when I’m certain, that these guys have their “boat groupies” routine well rehearsed. I just kicked off my flip flops and sat down, and like on a plane, was well aware of my exit strategy. What I didn’t know was that I was going to be needing a barf bag (figuratively, this is not going to get gross).
It was in this very spot that I met the owner and captain of the boat. He called himself Bandit. I would like to describe him as an “old, sleazy, d-bag” but I think he’s my age, so I’ll just say he’s a sleazy d-bag! Still, I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt when he started flirting with me and chalked it up to his alcohol consumption, because his wedding band was so glaringly obvious. Now don’t get me wrong, EVEN if he were not married, I would not touch this guy with a ten foot fishing pole, but he was married, and y’all know I feel about cheaters! SLEAZY D-BAG!
And hence, the blowing of the smoke began. My two girlfriends quickly determined who they were “hangin’ with” for the evening, which left me to fend for myself, which unfortunately meant “fending off” the Bandit. This had to be done delicately because:
1. We were on his boat and my girls were now out of sight
2. I’m pretty sure he is a narcissist and they make for nasty drunks.
The closer he got, the faster I’d move to a new location, which on a boat that I would not go inside of, didn’t give me much room. I SO BADLY wanted to tell this guy exactly what was on my mind, but to do so would have meant making a quick exit and I still had two unaccounted for girlfriends. Climbing up the stairs and sitting between the first and second story, gave Bandit no room to get next to me (and a great view of Hot 26 who by now had showered and was wearing a white t-shirt that fit him so well I just wanted to slide my hands up under it… but I tangentalize). Bandit was doing his best to sing his own virtues of being a Southern Gentleman. When that didn’t work, he tried impressing me by telling me his boat cost him 7 million (any man who has to drop money to impress is instantly unimpressive to me). Then he offered me a water even though I was holding a bottle in my hand. At this point I made a tactical error. I accidentally spent a little too long undressing Hot 26 with my eyes, and Bandit noticed.
He asked me if I was interested in Hot 26, “because if I was, he would back off because he didn’t want to be in the way.” I knew it was a tactical error because I was trained to read body language and listen to tonality, so while his words were quite gracious, his tone had that quality of forcing niceness, you know that tone, when someone sounds like they want to spit on you while sporting a smile on their face? And his body language, he was peacocking big time! I knew at that moment, if I went anywhere near that kid, this ego-maniac was going to throw down the hammer of Thor. I did not want my lascivious eyes getting him in trouble, so I looked the Bandit straight in the eyes, smiled and said, “Nope, I’m just here to look out for my girls and drink your water.”
That seemed to appease him. Then Shakira (I named her that cause her hips don’t lie and she’s as hot as Shakira) and her man came out of the boat’s interior and wanted to go upstairs. Bandit asked me if I’d seen upstairs, and I told him no. Not seeing a way out of this as the three of them were blocking my escape, I climbed up, and like a mouse being chased by a cat, quickly made my way around the area and back down the stairs.
Finally, free of him! And free to let my eyes gaze…
Seriously, Hot 26 must have thought I was such a CT, because I knew I couldn’t touch him. It was solidified for me when I was sitting next to him, his shoulder up against mine, warming my entire body, when the Bandit popped his head out, offered Hot 26 something (which Hot 26 declined), and then, with that same bitter tonality joked, “Why not, you already took my Baby.” That’s what he’d been calling me all night.
Dang it. At that moment I knew the kid was screwed. I was reprimanded by my girlfriends for not making a move on Hot 26, and for not giving him my number, but I wanted him to be able to look the Bandit in the eye and honestly be able to say NO, if asked if he got my number. And everyone could see nothing physically transpired between us. So, I’d hoped the kid was off the hook (pun intended).
The next day, Hot 26 wouldn’t even say hello to me. It totally sucks being the voice of reason, looking out for someone, but I can’t tell him I’m looking out for him or he’ll tell me that it’s cool, just to “get some” when I know that to give him “some” no matter how great that “some” would be, would just not be worth it to him when the aftermath hit!
So here I am getting the stink eye from him at the dock party, when who slithers in? Captain Bandit. Well, now I’m not on his boat, so I was done blowing smoke. I was back to being his baby, so it was time to make it perfectly clear to this C Blocker that I most certainly was not and would never be!
My first tactic was to be polite. I pointed out the ring on his finger, and told him, that I had no interest in a married man. Shakira was now at my side since her guy was with the Bandit, and asked me to join her when the Bandit suggested that we move up to the Tiki Bar to get into the shade. Thinking I’d made myself clear, I followed.
I had not made myself clear, as he quickly began referring to me once again as his baby. I used my second tactic, s-p-e-l-l-i-n-g it out for him. “I am NOT your baby, and will not be your baby, and you have another night ahead of you, so you better get out there and find yourself another baby!”
This did not work, he started talking to me about how he was going to hire a driver for me and a car. “Sleazy D-Bag, while I’m sure you have plenty of insecure wanna-be-gold-diggers falling at your married feet, I am not one of them, and your gross money dropping tactics are just making me want to punch you in the face to shut you up!”
Unfortunately those were fictional quotes, as in that’s what I wanted to say to him, but I didn’t because my momma raised me better, so onto my third tactic, visual imagery and metaphor. I pretended I was holding a fishing rod and casting it out and explained that he had cast out his bait, I had not taken it, he reeled it back in, and had nothing, (I’m physically acting this whole fishing metaphor out for him as well as for Shakira’s guy, in case he could explain it better), so now you need to cast your reel out again, or you’re going to wind up without a fish on your hook.
To this the Bandit responded, “Well I think you’re my baby,” To which I responded, “Well, I’m not!” To which he responded, “I like to just think you are then.” To which I responded with tactic four, walking away rudely, never saying goodbye.
Maybe the Bandit saved me from myself. I’d been vowing to stay on the “off the Under 30” Wagon, and for this kid, I would have jumped off the wagon head first into the mud cause he made me want to get dirty!!!