A-Wad

The phone rang.

I answered.

Him: “You gon have to stop blocking me because I can’t keep changing my number to call you.”

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Ladies, how many of us have that one man who we can trust and believe without a shadow of a doubt he ain’t worth a damn? Or, as I like to call him, A-Wad. Either we all have had one, know one, or currently dealing with one because we can’t quite cut him off just yet. Don’t worry sis, you’ll get rid of him when you get tired of his shit. I had one. It. Was. A. Mess. How shall I begin?

I met A-Wad in high school. I knew A-Wad wasn’t worth two dead flies, smashed, when he wrote his name and number on that piece of paper and slid it on my desk. But A-Wad was cute that day, yawl. He had on them black Durango boots, and fresh cut. Just know by 7:25pm I was sitting on the floor, cordless phone in my lap ready to dial. A-Wad and I went back and forth with each other for years. Years! But we were friends. To say he was my boyfriend would be an utter lie. I liked A-Wad. I was nice to A-Wad, and he was nice to me. All we ever did was kiss. And we talked on the phone in cycles. In other words, when it was convenient for him. My young, and naïve ass was too young to see that back then. He was a couple years older than me. And the night of his high school graduation, I was there. I was at that football stadium mainly because I had other friends graduating. Two days later after Graduation, I learned A-Wad was arrested for stealing the night of his graduation. Guess that explains why he wasn’t there. Years passed. I grew up. Graduated and went off to college. A-Wad? He had a couple kids and to my understanding was doing just fine. I would see him from time to time when I would be home. And it was always the same thing. We would pass each other driving, and he would turn around and follow me. I’d get out of the car, he’d yell my name, and we’d literally talk and chat. He’d tell me how he’d see my parents around town from time to time, and he’d randomly drive on the street they lived on. After a little more small talk, we’d part ways. I guess that was how we checked in with each other. Totally harmless, right?

Fast forward a year or two. I had graduated from college, and was on the struggle train to find a job. I was on the way to the doctor’s office. I parked. Got out of my car. I heard a voice, but thought clearly that person isn’t talking to me. I walk in to sign my name, and in walks A-Wad behind me.

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I was so caught off guard, I could barely sign my name. A-Wad approached me smelling all good and looking all clean. He mentioned he me was on his way to work, and wanted to call me later after he got off if that was cool. Sure! So, we exchanged numbers.

Before the next hour A-Wad had called.

I told A-Wad I was going to a party but I would be at the after-hours spot, better known as the Waffle House afterwards. He said he’d come through. Me and A-Wad got together, sat in my 2-door Honda Accord and talked all night. Sunroof open, stars gazing down upon us. It was magical, dammit! We caught up on what had been going on with each other. He showed me pictures of his kids. Yes, kids…there were only 2. Per A-Wad he and his baby mama were over. He tried to stay in it for the kids, but it didn’t work out. He had just recently moved out and was living with his sister. Couple days later he met me and my mom in Walmart and paid for the cake we had made for a family dinner we were having. A couple weeks later, he came over my house and sat with my dad in the yard. He even washed my mother’s car. A-Wad was in good with the parental unit. Spending time with them, and me. The man was a real life Prince Charming.

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I had found a job. I was working at a warehouse through a temp service. I was getting paid weekly. Rolling in the dough.

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Also, things were good with A-Wad. We were even talking about possibly moving in together. I’m telling yawl, it was real, okay?! So I told my mom about it.

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Mom’s told me real good she didn’t think that was a good idea. I pleaded my case. I was determined. I told her I felt like I was ready. We were in a good place, nothing would change except my address. A-Wad and I was cool with it. But Mom was serious. She really didn’t think it was a good idea. I couldn’t understand, if Mom’s like having him around, and loved the perks (i.e. getting her car washed) why didn’t she agree with me moving in with A-Wad. To her though, something wasn’t right. I wasn’t seeing it.

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Moral: Mom’s be knowing.

We didn’t move in together. I was hurt, but I was cool. I was still saving coins. I was even paying back Student Loans on time. Had me a lil Belk card. Couldn’t tell me nothing. I even got hired on full time with the warehouse company I was working with. It wasn’t in my field, but it was a job. I did miss those weekly temp checks, but I was getting paid more every 2 weeks. My gas hand never saw E. I was filling up when I got to half a tank. I was given more responsibility at work. As for A-Wad, he lost his job. To this day I can’t remember how. But he was actively looking.

A few months had passed. A-Wad still didn’t have a job. And we weren’t living together. It was no big deal to either of us. I was having an issue with my money and couldn’t figure out where it was going. It was crazy. I would get paid one day, and two days later, I’d barely had $100 to my name. My savings was slowly going down. I admit, I wasn’t watching my account as close as I should have been. There was a big story in the news on checking the card machines at ATM’s and gas stations because people were able to get your card information and steal funds from your account. Clearly that’d been happening to me. I was buying gas on a regular and commuting to work nearly an hour to and fro every day. It made perfect sense. The final straw was when I got paid one day, logged online to check my account and I had a whole $42. I had just gotten paid at 6am that morning. By noon I was broke. And, I had a doctor’s appointment later with a $25 co-pay. I went straight to the bank and got a print out of my account activity. There was one store in particular that was listed a few times, along with a lot of overdraft fees. The address of the store was near where A-Wad was living. I went to the police. I kid yawl not, my Mom went to the store and asked to see the surveillance tape of people that used the ATM in the store. They couldn’t let her see it. The police on the other hand, who are supposed to protect and serve, was more concerned about why I was there to inquire about taking out a warrant for an arrest. The officer even had the nerve to ask me, “What do you know about breach of trust?” In other words, they were no help. But they would find and question him about it. At least that’s what they told me.

Let me tell you how God works. My blind behind couldn’t see the forest for the trees right. I was so sure, it wasn’t A-Wad stealing my money. I mean how?! I dreamt I was watching surveillance footage of A-Wad in the store using the ATM with my debit card. I woke up and couldn’t speak. I was frozen. As I got off work that day, A-Wad confessed over the phone he’d been trying to figure out how to pay me back because he’d been the one stealing money from my account. Bruh! I made it from Charlotte to Lancaster in 30 minutes, with 5:00 traffic and all. Hell hath no fury. And I told him be standing outside when I pull up. I stopped by the house to get my fighting gear (i.e. Timberlands and Vaseline). Mom’s stopped me though. We didn’t fight. I did get to ask A-Wad how was it he had my PIN number.

A-Wad: Remember that night after the cookout where it rained real bad? You told me to go to the store to get a soda. You told me to just use your card, and you gave me your pin. I know you always kept your wallet in the glove compartment, and when I’d take it to vacuum it out after washing it, I’d stop by the store and get some money. I’d even watched you at the gas station when you’d use it at the pump.

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Couple weeks later, there was a ring of the doorbell. It was the police. The same officer I had spoken with a couple weeks earlier. He told me they’d found out I wasn’t the only one A-Wad had been stealing from. They wanted me to call him and have him meet me at Burger King for lunch. They wanted me to set A-Wad up. Now, what the police didn’t know was that my father could hear their plan. And that’s when it hit the fan. My father yelled out unless they were willing to give me half their paychecks for doing their job, I wasn’t helping them do a damn thing. I had to say real quick “Mr. Officer you gotta leave. My daddy said no.”

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When A-Wad called me, he was on his way to Florida. On! A! Bus!

Floor-reh-duh.

Fast forward to today. I never got my money. I’m sure I could’ve gotten it. But I was too tired, and didn’t want to deal with the hoopla of things. So life went on. I grew wiser. I got over A-Wad. More years had passed. I was working in my career field. The floodgates opened for me once A-Wad left. The dead weight known as A-Wad was gone, and I was prospering in life. And we know what happens when a man gets a whiff that you’ve gotten over him. They pop up!

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In between those years, I had spoken to A-Wad and again it was only when it was convenient for him. He would fill my head with talk of us getting back together, and working things out. Even paying me back. Thanks to my trusty buddy, Mr. Google, I’d learned A-Wad had been to jail quite a few times in Florida. And was currently facing more jail time for not paying child support for the new baby he’d had. A-Wad had been busy. Surely, I was the last thing on his mind. And every time he’d call me, I’d still answer. After I’d see he hadn’t changed, I’d block the number. Any other phone call I got from a Florida number I found myself answering. I don’t know why. Maybe it was because even though I had been given clear evidence A-Wad hadn’t changed, I still wanted to feel some type of reminder of how he used to make me feel. Just so I would know that certain feeling could still exist.

The phone rang.

I answered.

Him: “You gon have to stop blocking me because I can’t keep changing my number to call you.”

I talked to A-Wad. Mainly because I knew I could talk to him now and it wouldn’t hurt. I was over how things ended with me and him. I had cried my tears, and had none left. So I let him talk for a few minutes about how good life had been. I’d determined that A-Wad had caught enough hell from karma for what he’d done to me already. I honestly didn’t care about getting my money back. It wouldn’t have made up for the broken heart he’d given me. He sounded well. He even bought a dog. And a truck. He even managed to get a small business started. I told him I was glad things are working out for him. Now when he got to talking about moving his business back up this way so we could be together I had to stop him.

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Excuse me sir, but who do you think you are? Do you know he had to nerve to answer?! The man said he was the love of my life, and I was the same for him. In his mind, which couldn’t be that big, he still believed that I wanted to be with him, and pick up where we left off. The same man that left me with $42. A-Wad didn’t have the balls, homeboy had the audacity! (NEEDLE SCRATCH-Is that what he bought with my money?) Needless to say, it was nice to let A-Wad know that he was no longer that person for me. The idea was cool to revisit what once was, back then, but now not so much. Sorry, not sorry A-Wad. I got off this train a long time ago. Do I wish you well? Of course, boo. Henceforth, King, and prosper in thine most villainous ways. However, I won’t be going with you.

I can’t sit here and tell you it was easy to get over A-Wad. It’s never a cake walk when it comes to getting over a person you’ve shared your heart with. It was a process. I had many good days, and bad days. I had days where I was sure I was over him, then the next day all I wanted to do was curl up and eat ice cream. I think that’s the negative side effects of getting over being dickmatized. I can say, at first things with A-Wad was fun. We were young, and things were way different back then. However, I’m thankful for the lessons he taught me. He showed me a lot. Thanks A-Wad.

P.S. You still aint shit though.

~Elle

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