The Cali Girl Meets Rich-Dawg!

Hi, Everyone!

Remember last week, when I shared a story about how I schooled some fella on how to speak to me? Well, check this out: Yesterday afternoon. I was leaving the cafeteria and heading to my dorm when…

“Hey, Natasha! Yo, Natasha!”

It was Mr. Wannabe Playa-Playa. He had to have taken heed to my speech because he actually called me by my name. As humbly as he could, he looked at me and said, “Listen, about what happened a couple days ago—my bad, okay? I really didn’t mean no disrespect.”

“Oh, it’s all good, and apology accepted,” I smiled.

“That’s what’s up,” he chuckled. “By the way, my name’s Richard, but my homies call me Rich-Dawg.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at his rather interesting nickname. I did apologize for my sudden outburst, to which he said, “It’s all good, Li’l Ma… I mean, Natasha.”

I winked at him, just to let him know that I liked how he caught that slip-up. He smiled and told me that because of the way I carried myself, I was either from Chicago, South Memphis, or the A-T-L. I told him that he had used up his three strikes, to which he stated regrettably, “I shoulda said Olive Branch.”

“And you still would’ve been wrong, Rich-Dawg!” I giggled.

“A’ight, then. Where’s home?” he asked.

I told him that I was a native Los Angeleno, and naturally he questioned why I chose Rust when I could’ve easily attended a college in Cali. The next thing I knew, Richard and I had conversed for a good half hour or so. I was quite impressed with his cordiality, despite his hip-hop vernacular… okay, I admit it—I’m kinda interested in Richard, but I didn’t come all the way from L.A. to Rust just to find a boyfriend. I’m here to earn my degree in Elementary Education. Besides, for all I know, “Rich-Dawg” could be puttin’ a sista on!

But yet and still, he has a certain je ne sais quoi. We’ll just see what develops.

Until next time…

Hugs & Kisses,

Natasha