Episode Three: My Personal Insecurities

Lola’s Diary

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From Episode Two

“Calm down Lola,” I appeal to myself.
I started walking to my car and she runs after me, reaches in my car and grab the car keys from the ignition.
“Oh no you didn’t,” I say and fly into a rage.
“Get the f*ck out of my car…” I scream.
Frightened, Deola jumps as this mad woman plucks the key out of the ignition and pockets it.

Episode Three: My Personal Insecurties.

The b*tch is raving mad. She is screaming expletives and out of control.


“F*ck your college ass! F*cking gold digging moron,” she vomits her rabid trash into the public space disturbing the neighborhood and making a nuisance of herself. I was scared for a minute.
What day is it? I ask as she continues to holler causing a scene.


“Keep your mother f*ucking mouth shut and hand me my car keys,” I demand.



We are both screaming at the top of our lungs and people wouldn’t know the difference. So I paused and watch her foam in the mouth like a growling dog.
This bitch must be smoking crack. I surmise.
As hard as I try to not become the single black professional unpartnered woman with scant statistical options for a mate, (I honestly don’t know how accurate this is but look at my situation) I become her!
Despite the many achievements that has come my way, I feel like a failure for not beating the odds, finding a great guy and having a family together. Somehow the most natural thing to womankind escaped me… or is escaping me.
I’ve dated and dated more. I’m held in high esteem at my job, described as having it all, beautiful professional woman and others want to emulate me. But for whatever reason, not having found my guy makes me feel like a failure. In spite of all of these, I’m smart enough to know better, but I’m too emotionally aware to deny how I feel. Hmm…am I just pretending to be happy? I’m I too picky? I’m I still looking for the knight in shining armor? Did all the good men die in Iraq, or in Afghanistan?
“You know reader, I get really angry when some stupid motherf*cking trashy bastard try to talk to me. It diminishes my standing and I feel like …what did I do to deserve this invasion from this uncivilized bastard?”
They must think that I'm some easy mark. No! Seriously. I dont understand it. Or perhaps they think that I'm quick and they can have a little lay with me or get some blowjob.


“What else does these obnoxious dirtbags want from me to think that they can talk to me?”


I was brought back to reality by two police cruisers pulling into the driveway. Some smart neighbor called the cops. Good for them.
This crack smoking bastard of bourbon is still growling and spewing garbage like a waste disposal machine. I wish they’d give her a ticket for littering.


“Calm down ma’am,” the officer says loudly trying to get her attention.


But this maniac is way gone. It’s a surprise she did not hit me while I was in my trance. Somehow, I was wishing for that so she’d take her ass to spend the night in jail.


“What’s going on here?” the officer asks.
She finally comes to her sense and manages to calm down and tell her story.
“Ma’am, return her keys right now!” the officer orders.
"Go ahead! Do it.” the officer presses.
The bitch thinks it through and reluctantly hand me my keys.


“You could be arrested for kidnapping?” the officer announces.
“How about my late fee?” she demands.


"It's something you can take up in coourt but we are here to keep the peace," the officer says.
I explained to the officer that I will go to the ATM and bring it to her and that was what I did.
Deola looks upset and I understand. I look like something that the cat dragged in, I was disheveled and bombed out.
I get back in the car and tune my radio to my favorite station. Deola is okay now and she is telling me about her day at this bitch’s house.


“I’m I going back to Fatima tomorrow?” she asks gently.
“Not in a lifetime,” I reply abruptly.
"Ooohkay! Okeedooki," Deola mimics.


I have to look for another school age childcare provider. I will have to call her school first thing tomorrow and see what they can recommend.
I go through a drive through and order dinner.


“Heck! I’m hungry and I look drained.”


I look in my rearview mirror and Deola smiles back at me. She is so much joy, I thank the day she was born.


“Mom I need to pee,” she says.
“Use proper English Deola,” I correct her.
“Aaalright!” she groaned in an exasperated sigh.
"I need to use the girlie room,” she continues.


Much better, I can see how all that stress can trigger a bathroom visit. We park and I walk her into the grocery store to use the ladies room.


" Nuh-Uh! We wash our hands,"


She gets back to the sink, wash her hands and we exit.


She get back in the car and I pull out of the parking lot. I look in the mirror but she is asleep in no time. I start contemplating the day on my 15 minutes drive home when the phone rings. I look at the dial and smile.


“Hello Tunji whaz up?” I say into the mouth piece.
“How is your day going?” he asks.


I recant the whole experience, about the Virginia State trooper, how I ran a red light, the crazy bitch daycare asshole and Fairfax County police.


“That’s a lot,” he says comfortingly.
“It is, isn’t it?” I reply agreeing with him.
“Are you going to be okay?” he asks.
“Anyway what’s up?” I ask.
“Ummm… my parents are visiting and… ummm… I was wondering if you might want to go up to New York for Christmas.” he asks softly.


I stopped short for a while to let it to sink.


“Wow! What a fairy tale ending!” I whisper.


Suddenly, I calmed down and like the jet engines of a B757 after an intercontinental flight, I breathe a sigh of relief. I shut my eyes for a moment and simmer. Excitement builds up inside me.


“Woo hoo! I will be spending Christmas with Tunji,” I burst out saying in third party.


He just smiled.


I have not gotten my Christmas gifts.
I’m excited and I’m nervous. I’m excited at the thought of meeting his parents. I’m nervous at being judged. His parents are pretty traditional and conservative.


"I’ll come over tonight so that we can discuss it," he says


Though exhausted, I breathe a sigh of relief and smile mischievously.
This means he’s staying over.


"New York here we come!"


To be continued.... Episode Four: "Muddling Through"
Tuesday January 4th 2010

I wish you a Happy and a Prosperous New Year!
Signed Lola.


© 2010 Lola's Diary