Showing posts with label romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label romance. Show all posts

Saturday, December 17, 2022

KISSING FROGS

I’ve kissed my fair share of frogs in this lifetime. I believe that our experiences shape us no matter the quality of those experiences. And I believe that experience is part of the reason why we are here. In response to my beliefs, the Universe has given me what I've asked for. My cup runneth over with romantic experience, but I’m absolutely parched when it comes to quality.  

My life is full. Some consider it full of chaos, but I consider it colorful. I’ve got tons of stories to tell, and my audience's reactions make the stories so much better. They usually laugh, and they openly tell me that they're not sure that what I’m saying is true. They say some things are so crazy that it makes me an unreliable narrator.

I get it. I do. Sometimes, even I have to step back and wonder if I dreamed it, made it up to make myself sound more interesting, or if I really allowed myself to step into these situations and hold myself there till they played themselves out.

I’ve run the gamut: There was the guy who had a secret family, the one who tried to blow up his school, and there was the tough guy who wouldn’t let me break up with him. I still chuckle when I think of how I let that one get away.

Doug was an ex-corrections officer who retired from jail life and started his own security company. He specifically went after low risk jobs and managed to build a successful business. It went well until he got caught napping while working a sweet sixteen party. Word got out that he was not really securing anything at the events he was hired for, and he dissolved his business. After calling in a bunch of favors, he invested in a case of No-Doze and got hired as an employee by another security company. Then he met me.

On the outside, he was beautiful to look at; tall, muscular, chiseled face, and exactly the right amount of facial hair to interest me. But inside, the book did not match the cover. Inside, he was an old, crotchety, neurotic mess. He complained of back pain, he was always tired, and every time we had dinner, went out to lunch, or did anything with a price tag, he made sure to tell me exactly how much everything cost. He wouldn't allow me to pay for anything, but I did pay. I paid every single time the server cleared our plates. Dessert was served with a side of what felt like guilt. First Doug would sigh. That was the warning shot. Then he'd lean in as if I was his friend. As if we hadn't only been on a few dates that had all gone exactly the same way. "CF", he'd say, "I live way beyond my means.”

He drove a car so fancy that only Doug and people who love cars would care about what model it was. I have never been that person, but I am a person who appreciates a pretty blue color and riding with the top down. I hated when Doug would stop for gas, but it felt like every time he picked me up, he also needed gas. We'd pull into the station and he'd say, "Look at them, looking at the car." Then, at the pump, an attendant would step up, smile, and compliment the car. The top was down, so he could pump the gas and talk to us at the same time. "This is a great car, sir."

Doug would smile and say, "Yeah. She's pretty." Then he'd hand over the money and turn the key. We would not even have pulled away before he'd say, "They all want this car. They're all jealous."  He had no inside voice, and I'd sink down in the seat when the attendant who had been very polite, would turn to look because he'd heard Doug's remarks. Finally, we'd leave, and Doug would say, "I can't afford it, but I'm not selling it." *sigh* "CF, I live way beyond my means."

I was patient for three months and a dozen or so dates. I thought what my generation was taught to think, he will change, he will do it for me. It took me a minute to realize that none of his problems were my problems, and that I didn't even like him enough to care if he ever changed. I finally grew tired of his complaining, and I tried to end things, but it didn't go well.

Me: "Doug, I don’t think we should see each other anymore."
Doug: "Why not?"
Me: "Because I don’t want to."                                                     

Doug: "Are you on your period?"
Me: "What does that have to do with anything?"
Doug: "You women are not in your right minds when you’re on your period. I’ll talk to you in a week. Will that be long enough?"
Me: "No, absolutely not."
Doug: "Are you serious? You bleed for longer than a week? You should get that checked out. That and your irritability."
Me: "No Doug, I mean I don't want to talk to you in a week. I don’t want to talk to you at all anymore. You're so rude."
Doug: "Sweetheart, sweetheart, calm down…see? You’re all upset because you’re on your period. We’ll talk another time, when you’re better."

Me (yelling): "I do not have my period, and I’m not sick! I don’t like you! This is over!"
Doug: "It’s ok. I understand. Just give me a call when everything has calmed down."
I hung up on him.

A month later I got an email that said: "Sweetheart, do you miss me?"
I deleted it.

I thought I'd learned my lesson. I even gave Doug credit for it. I certainly learned something, but not enough not to kiss a few more frogs since then. 

Cheers to all the men who have kept me from being bored by the same old flowers and candy routine. When I release book five of the Coffee Break Series, some of them might recognize themselves in the pages of DEJA DREW, the story of several dating disasters all centered around three guys with the same name, Drew. When one poor woman experiences problems with men over and over. So many of us have been there, haven't we?

In the meantime, answer me this, is it worth it to take dating chances for the experience? Or because he could be Mr. Something Special? Or do you avoid it all together because you're convinced that you’re better off staying out of the shallow end of the dating pool?



CF Winn is the award-winning author of The COFFEE BREAK SERIES, a quirky group of shorter novels that are meant to be read while on a lunch break or in the waiting room of the doctor’s office. Her first novella, SUKI, has been grabbing hearts and hugging souls all over the United States. 

The BOOKLIFE PRIZE (a division of Publisher's Weekly) has praised CF WINN's MOORE THAN MEETS THE EYE: "This novel is a unique and original storyline that readers will likely find much enjoyment in. Winn's fiercely plotted storyline makes for a suspenseful read. Every plot point feels as if it is being revealed at precisely the right moment. Winn's word choice makes for a joyful ride through unexpectedly dark terrain."


CF Winn's blogs have been syndicated on multiple sites including The Masquerade Crew. More posts like these can be found at Humor Outcasts and The Patch where she is a regular contributor.  

FOLLOW her on TwitterFacebook, and CF_Winn on Instagram





Sunday, February 10, 2013

WHAT'S YOUR STORY?? MEET CHANTAY

Meet Chantay:


This hopeless romantic grew up believing that her mother had mind-reading/super-hearing powers , because "she always knew, or had some idea of what I was about to do."
"It never occured to me that I was the youngest of four, and that one of my siblings had probably already tried to do many, if not all of the same things. A lot of times when I thought I was being secretive and whispering, she overheard everything I was saying, because I just really did not know how to whisper."

When Chantay was in 7th grade, her friends decided to smoke before school. They planned it out and assigned each person a supply that they were to bring. Vanessa was supposed to sneak cigarettes, Lucille had gum, and Chantay stocked up on matches. The morning of the great smokescapade, as Chantay was leaving the house, her mother said, " Have a good day... and if I ever catch you smoking I will make you eat the ashes."
'Nuff said. Chantay did not meet up with her friends, and her mother's extrasensory persona went live: "I was convinced that my mother was a mind-reading/ super-hearing woman."

Now, all grown up, Chantay is a teacher. If she asked her students, she's sure they would confirm that she had inherited the ability to read minds because, "I always know what is going on. If they are about to tell me something, I say that I'm already aware, and they can't understand how...just like the way my mom knew with me."

"The truth is, my students have also never mastered the art of whispering, and they assume that when they're talking around me, I have my head buried in paperwork, so I'm not listening. They know nothing about multitasking, and have no idea that I hear everything they say, whether it's good or bad, without looking up. Most of the time I intervene before the drama happens. They act like they hate it, but I'm sure they are thanking me later...just not to my face."

To most, Chantay is a fun loving, free spirit. She attributes that to her parents: "If the gift of gab is a power, then I got that from my mom. If humor is too, then I inherited that from my dad."









Those abilities landed her a ticket to Superbowl XLVII where she was seen holding up a handwritten sign:



... and after a bit of Mardi Gras fun, she took off for Trinidad where she is presently dancing and mocking the East Coast blizzard (and this writer!) from the comfort of a 90 degree beach.



I asked her what she thinks about when she is talking to people. Her mischievous smile is always the same, and it made me question what goes on behind it.

She answered: "When I was a waitress and had extremely annoying costumers, I would wonder if they have friends, or why would they come out the house looking the way that they did at the time...then I would start to wonder if when I go out to restaurants, do the waitresses think the same things about me?!"

I pressed a little bit more. There's an eternally romantic side to Chantay that sometimes gets lost in the KAFE CASTROesque public persona she presents:



Like what you see? To read the rest, and to find out who killed Chantay's boyfriend, go to:
http://www.readsuki.com/whats-your-story/

Thursday, April 26, 2012

THE BEAT OF THE RAIN


I mistook the rain for my heartbeat until the sky lit up and the gentle drizzle picked up speed. Instantly, its rhythm resembled a sprinter, not a being fully embraced in serenity.

My forehead felt cool against the glass. I stared through the drops, dazzled by how easily they became stunning kaleidoscopes, nature’s gift for the truly blessed. When my eyelids began to droop, I knew that I was at peace. My lashes overlapped, and I rested, as my soul succumbed to nature’s melody.
Used with permission from Microsoft

He crept up behind me and gently wrapped his arms around my waist, never disturbing my reverie, but instead becoming part of it. Soft lips rested on my shoulders and my head leaned comfortably on his chest. I immersed myself in his musky essence. Our breathing converged, and eventually kept time with the melodious pattering on the roof above.

Trails of liquid on the picture window became glistening sequins, dancing in the spotlight created by the candle on the table behind us.

He adorned the top of my head with butterfly kisses and caressed my bare arms. Goose bumps tickled me, and I shivered as I twisted around in his arms. I brushed my lips on his, puckering only slightly as I continued past his mouth and traced the muscles along his cheek toward his ear.

When he pulled away, I was surprised.

We had only separated for a moment before he hugged me gently and whispered, “You are so beautiful”, a secret he had just then found the courage to reveal.

I smiled and snuggled into him, knowing that even if we shared the same skin I wouldn’t be able to get close enough.

I loosened my embrace to kiss him fully on the lips. My hands cupped his chin and cheeks, my need to be one with him growing strong. As if on cue, the rain applauded our union by creating the perfect background music.

******************

That, my sweet, perfect angel, is how you were conceived.

It’s the tale I choose to tell as I cradle you gently on my lap, in my wheelchair. It’s the same story I tell myself when I want to forget how jagged and cold the cement felt against the back of my head when it was slammed hard, then rubbed raw and bloody.

The rain I amorously recount almost lulls me into a dreamless sleep, never pounding my face and catching in my eyes the way it did when I dared to peek and see if the massive stranger that had tackled me was finished beating and violating my crumpled body.

I will repeat it to you over and over again, praying that one day, if you find out the truth, you will believe that despite my broken spine and visible scars, I will never regret the attack that blessed me with you. Your presence is as exquisite as the story I tell, the gift a random rapist never intended to bestow on me, but for which I will nevertheless be eternally grateful for.


CF Winn is the award-winning author of The COFFEE BREAK SERIES, a hilarious group of short stories meant to be read while on break or in the waiting room of the doctor's office. Her first novella, SUKI, has been grabbing hearts and hugging souls all over the United States.

You can now order SUKI in paperback at BOOK REVUE, one of the nation’s largest independent bookstores, by email at info@bookrevue.com or by calling (631) 271-1442.
Learn more about SUKI at BOOK REVUE http://www.bookrevue.com/localauthors.html