I’m walking downstairs from my place, in the entry hallway, a black car I don’t recognize pulls up in front. Music blaring, I stand on the porch to see who it is, out steps “She”, she grabs her bag, cackling a storm. At this point I’m just standing there, I had somewhere to go but I was put off by the situation, thought she wasn’t off for another 2 hours, wait…did she know I was going to be here…..Nah she’s knows better. She interrupts my thoughts and says hi, I take her bag and kiss her deeply then give dude a head nod, because I’m petty. Now its been about 180 seconds you’d think she introduce me to her chauffeur, he pulls off we head upstairs. I forget what I was doing but yeah, I got questions.
“Oh you know Phuckthisdudesname, he works in security, I got out early and he gave me a ride on break, thought you would be at the gym”
Aha see I knew she didn’t think I was home, what if he was going to be invited upstairs……Nah she knows better.
Anyway, as time wore on I would hear more and more about Phuckthisdudesname, some funny story that wasn’t really funny, alluded to his frequently on her twitter (i wasn’t snooping we actually just followed eachother, I don’t believe its a big deal). I’m not really a jealous guy and I trusted her, so I would tease her with it more than actually be concerned. I had an inkling that he did like her, not that he had a chance (he wasn’t her type and um, she had me duh). He definitely tried it, as most work husbands do….they sneaky like that.
I said there was a double standard between workwives and workhusbands because men ideally are the pursuers. I’ve been the #workhusband paying all the compliments he forgot to. I see plenty of them in play at work, standing at her desk, grinning ear to ear about to ask her out to lunch, his treat. He has some wild dating story that conveniently places him as the good guy that is only unchose because he is just too sweet. Just this past Valentine’s Day, I got my Valentine a dozen roses, work husband her a single one, guess who was not bout to be whisked around town with a bakers dozen of roses. Nah, yo.
Moral of the story, #staywoke. Got to call the Mrs at lunch because work husband trying to take her to a 2 for $20, got to leave her a couple dollars or she’s going to be bumming cigarettes (actually, don’t date smokers, bleh). Even if the work husband doesn’t size up, he represents the large portion of men who think she’s fly and doesn’t see the annoying nag with bonnet and wifebeater. Old work (i love/hate this term, it seems rude but it humors me) is always newness to somebody. Appreciate your lady, or #he will…..
Hell, or even I will.