Birdman Love- The Story of Tatted Face

This cuffing season has been dry as a bone for your girl Holls.
Like an idiot, I erased the numbers of all my old, unlovable losers, so I have had no options. This was liberating at first, now I am kind of seeing this as the biggest mistake of my winter. I know it was what was best, but I'm cold and lonely. Can a sister get a text?!
I haven't even heard from Sickles. Old dependable Sickles. He has missed his quarterly text to me, which leads me to believe that he has a real girlfriend or is in jail. Both have been the case in the past.
An old man told me I was beautiful at the customer service counter at the grocery store, and he was a cute old guy who could still walk, so I would have totally given him my number, but I was turned off by the number of lottery tickets he was purchasing.
Only one guy has tried to talk to me this winter, and I have seen him twice, which may be a sign that he is the love of my life. The first time I saw him was at Wal-Mart. I accidentally looked in his direction while trying to navigate my cart around a potato chip display. I swerved into the snack aisle and bent down to get a box of Little Debbie cakes. When I looked up, he was right beside me, smiling. And his teeth were actually pretty nice for a man that had tattooed the whole left side of his face.
"Hey Ms. Lady," he said in the sweet, deep, southern drawl of a Georgia boy who has just finished smoking a blunt.
"Hello," I said, completely enthralled by the numerous symbols tattoed on his face. There was a heart and a knife and a dollar sign and a whole bunch of other stuff. I walked with him long enough to find out that he had tatted the tattoos on his face himself. He wants to be a tattoo artist and needed the practice. That's when I lied, told him I had a boyfriend, and made my exit.
Not long after the elderly man called me pretty at the grocery store, I ran into Tatted Face in the lunch meat section. I told him he looked familiar, and he said, "Yeah, we met a Wal-Mart."
"Oh yeah," I said, hightailing it out of there. I could feel him staring at me all the way to the dry bean aisle. There were even more tats on his face than last time, but all still on the same side.
Now I am wondering if I was being silly. I just had a conversation with Tortilla about dropping her standards now that she is 30, and I here I am running from men just because their face is tatted. Tatted Face may be my future.This Valentine's Day, I could be out and about with Tatted Face instead of at home with my brother watching reruns of iCarly, which, by the way, is a HILARIOUS show! I mean, Toni Braxton is dating Birdman. If a scary tat face is good enough for an R&B superstar, it should be enough for me.
I am due for another Wal-Mart run. I will let you know if I run into him again. Fingers crossed, I want to be married by 35.

Signs of an Early Cuff

Bells screenshot me a pic of a text conversation she'd had with Troy, a man that she hadn't talked to in five years. He was very clear and eloquent in his request for no-strings-attached sex. She angrily text-replied no. He politely as was all like, "Thank you for your time." Understandably, Bells was upset.
 "Can you believe this guy?" she demanded.
I laughed to myself. I'm 32, not 22. Nothing these dudes can say or do can surprise me anymore.
"What does he think this is?!" she wanted to know. "He just wants something for nothing."
Yeah he does. Unintentionally, I looked at the corner of my computer screen and saw the date. It's Aug. 9. Sickles texted me just the other day. Summer is officially over on September 22. I did some quick math on my fingers and toes and concluded this: cuffing season must be coming early this year.
Yes, cuffing season. That special time of year when the lonely are in a mad dash to find someone to roast chestnuts with. Three cuffing seasons ago, I was really feeling myself. Men were asking me for my number left and right. I was doing a two-step down the street, thinking that men must have been taking notice of how much better my hair looked since I made the switch from leave-in conditioner to coconut oil. NOT! Someone hipped me to the cuffing game. Now I make a mental note of it as the first leaves fall in Autumn.
I guess that everyone's summer loves are ending early, because the smart guys are reaching out early, trying to get things in order before it is even time to put on long-sleeve shirts. They know what Bells and I learned late: cuffing season is real.
Back when I was a college student, sitting in my dorm room crying and journaling, wishing my male peers would notice me, I wished that someone, anyone, would share with me the secret to finding a companion. If I could go back in time, I would tell myself to shower and stand outside the men's dorm during homecoming and see what happens. Because there is a secret that only those of us women who are really aware know: you may be a lonely lady, but NO ONE hates being lonely more than a man. While we are at home, crying on tear-stained sheets, they are madly searching the streets, looking for ANYTHING to snuggle up to. Be in the right place at the right time and you may find yourself this fall with a decent, all be it temporary, man. This is why women with good sense don't even bother.
But be warned. The pre-cuff is here, alive, and well. Your ex will text you. Your ex ex will call. You randomly run into your ex ex ex at the grocery store when you know he doesn't cook. Don't be alarmed. It's the season for such events.
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