The College Football Player

May 8, 2017
“He plays football? For who…the Texans?”
“The Cowboys?”
“Umm, it’s a different football league.”
“What the CFL? AFL?”
She leaned back into her chair, “How do you know so many leagues?”
I raised my right eyebrow and smirked, “Listen…just know, I know.”
The only other league I knew about was…no, she wouldn’t. Would she?
I screeched in a tone higher than I expected, Girl, you talking to a college boy?”
She rolled her eyes, “Now you sound judge-y. Just because you like men who are qualified for their AARP cards doesn’t mean we all should date grandpas.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. Even though that comment was an exaggeration it was true. The last guy I dated was in his late 40s, but mind you I was 26 when we met. And on average the men I date are usually in their mid 40s. Which could get a little weird if they are in their late 40s because my mom is just 51. There was nothing wrong with dating a younger man, but my idea of younger is 26 (I’m 31).
With that being said when I first moved back home after graduating from college I dated this college basketball player. He was tall and very attractive, but I couldn’t get over the fact that he was a college student. And not just in college – a full blown live in dorms, will do a headstand on kegs, still going to the frat house for parties, college student. I knew the shit wasn’t going to last the first time I spent the night at his place which was a dorm room with a conjoining bathroom. The students were ripping and running down the hallway and blaring loud music until 4AM. I get it because I did the same thing when I lived in the college dorms, but at that point in life I was more of a have your own place type of girl. It was pure embarrassment when I was leaving his dorm and saw college kids with their text books and JanSport bookbags and I was leaving to go to my full time job. That was enough for me to cut him off while I was in his parking lot before I even cranked my car up.
I shifted in my seat, “Girl! If you want you some young peen, get your life. But I hope you don’t think this is going anywhere.”
She started making a siren noise, “Find me the real Ebony.”
“You ain’t no fun no more.”
I laughed, “I mean do you. If you want to creep in the dorm and be out before 11…”
I shrugged my shoulders, “Excuse me.”
“So, you not going to the open practice with me?”
I choked on my water, “The only people who go to open college practices are family, friends, SUPER fans of the organization – itself, and girlfriends or wannabe girlfriends –who probably weren’t even invited. And the last time I went to an open college football practice I was 19…maybe 20 and I was posted next to my ex-boyfriend’s mama. I will not…cannot at this age be at somebody’s practice and they aren’t a family member.
“I’ll buy you dinner at Pappadeaux.”
I rolled my eyes, “No.”
“…appetizer, an entree, and dessert.”
I thought about it for a second, “So, when is this practice?”

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