I've always had a thing for linebackers. Not only are they big, but it's like having security with you everywhere you go. I love big boys so imagine just how happy I was when I met Truck. There's definitely a stereotype attached with dating football players. They're players, cheaters, they kill dogs, etc... but I wasn't worried.
Truck had a little more depth to him than most defensive linemen. We would speak of our families, values, morals, all things NOT football. That's why I was so excited for our first real date.
He had often spoke of the amazing things he'd experienced, the type of lifestyle he lived, and how he was the most romantic man I'd ever find. I was so intrigued. I didn't want to get my hopes up, but I was imagining the most amazing first date possibilities. Dinner someone where fancy, perhaps going to one of the more exclusive clubs for drinks, maybe even a private helicopter ride over the Golden Gate Bridge?? There's no harm in dreaming big and really, it's not my fault I have a very active imagination.
I met up with Truck for our first date. He said was going to take me to a place where we could relax, talk, and enjoy each other.
We didn't go far.
He opened the back door of his truck. Hesitant, I got in. There were two big TV monitors... Like the kind parents have for their kids when on a long road trip. But his were built into the headrests, like a true pimp. The glow from the monitors made everything a little more romantic but I wasn't sure if he got into the backseat with me because he had a driver, or because we were just going to sit back there. I prayed for the best.
My prayers were not heard, so we continued to sit in the back of his truck. With the glow of his TV monitors, he could see that I was confused. He decided to turn on some music to lighten to mood. Romantic r&b songs are great, especially when trying to woo the confused. But not when the subwoofer in the back of the truck is as big as a fridge. The bass rumbled my brain. This was NOT the date I had imagined. There was no Moet flowing from the sky, no 5 star chef asking me how I like my Filet Mignon, not even close.
After almost 30 minutes in the backseat bungalow of love, I realized that we were not going anywhere, I was not going to be wined or dined, and that this hunk of burning love was nothing more than a dud... a really big dud.
Needless to say, no touchdowns were scored that night.
My head's a little too small for my body. I know. Dont judge me. Lesson Learned:
Just because he's a football player doesn't mean he knows the rules to the game. Always hate the player. It's not the game's fault the player is a dud.
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