Break-ups are full of regrets, but it’s the after a break-up period where shit can really get regretful. Can I share a story
I was a bartender at a well-established bar. When bartending, it’s not easy to find a work environment with good tipping customers and clean, friendly co-workers. I was lucky enough to have both of those qualities at this gig, which made my job easy and fun. I became close to all of my co-workers. Although, there was one co-worker that I took an extra-liking to. His name was Mateo. He was Mexican and African-American, with the most interesting hair. He was only 27 years old with a head full of grays- and wore a slick back, with a nearly shaved undercut. I had no clue what was going on with his hair, but apparently the only one, because the ladies at the bar loved it.
I liked Mateo a great deal because we both came from similar backgrounds. Both, struggling to survive in the expenses of Los Angeles, CA without parents to phone home to for help. We were also the only minorities working at this bar – so naturally we bonded at first sight. Our dynamics meshed really well at the bar too. When we worked together on the same bar, we ended our nights with nothing under $300 in tips, each. After our shifts we would hang around at work and have the best talks about life and relationships. I never wanted him sexually. He was just a loyal friend and great listener and that was rare to find in Los Angeles.
My bad break-up was completely unexpected. One day I’m looking for apartments to move into with my boyfriend and the next day my pictures and text messages to him are all over Facebook being posted by his fiancé. I was completely in shock. I had no idea he had a fiancé. After confronting him he completely blocked me from all contact. I was left humiliated by a woman I never met and overflowing with questions and heartache.h
Mateo was the first person to my rescue. He came in to work early that night just to hug me and help me stop crying. I tried hard to not let my personal life interfere with work, but that night I couldn’t help it. I was too weak from crying and not in the mood to chat with any customers. Mateo handled everything and allowed me to go chill in the back the entire shift. After our shift, he still split the tips (this is unheard of in bartender world) andbought me dinner. He then asked if I would let him take me out, his way in his neighborhood in Downtown LA. If you’ve ever been to LA, you then understand how the different neighborhoods can completely change your experience in this city. I stayed on the west side with beaches, and * bougie* brunches. Mateo hated the west side he only ran the rugged, fast-paced streets of Downtown LA. I let him bribe me into going this grungy neighborhood. I would do anything to get my mind off of my ex that night. However, I swore at the first sighting of a big street rat- I was gone.
Surprisingly, I ended up having one of the best LA nights of my life with Mateo Downtown. It was as if he was part of this secret hipster society. We pulled up to abandoned buildings, he would do a secret knock and next thing you know, doors would open to these amazing lofts filled with people, free drinks and food. We ate so much good pizza on rooftops and I refused to stop drinking. He never let me take a shot alone either. When the drinks kicked in- the feelings became more intense and an attraction to Mateo began. He started to feel it too, because our next stop wasn’t another warehouse it was to his house.
Let’s rewind a little to clarify what made me never look at Mateo in a sexual way, prior to this moment. I disliked the way he dressed. He always wore run-downed clothes and shoes that would make one think he never showered. His breathe was never easy to smell, either. The sex stories he would share with me were another turn-off. They were too raunchy and never compassionate. I need affection and knew I would never enjoy sex with him. So, why I decided to try it tonight? I have no idea and I regret every bit of it.
As soon as I gave him the okay to take my shirt off – Mateo transformed to the risqué aggressor that he said he was. I felt attacked. He ripped my blouse open, breaking at least three of my buttons. No kissing or caressing – just straight to chomping on my nipples. I was instantly regretting this and looking for the nearest exit. While scanning the place for a way off his couch, I noticed filth (even things crawling) all over his apartment. I screeched! This was a result of the filth and him suddenly shoving three fingers in my vagina (with absolutely no warm-up.) He froze, and I didn’t hesitate to make a move. I removed his fingers and grabbed what was left of my shirt. I apologized and told him this wasn’t a good idea I had to leave.
The next day at work was terrible. He was extremely rude to me. Now, I knew why he had so many one- night stands. These women probably stayed away from him- deliberately. Everyone could sense that our energy was off, too. It became very obvious, and unbearable when I asked him to pass me an orange to finish a cocktail. Instead of tossing it he lunged it at me hitting me right in my head. He claimed it was an accident, but I claimed it was psychopathic- fuckboy behavior. As the week went on our interactions worsened. Every time he passed me I would hear him whispering, calling me all types of sexist slurs. I didn’t understand why he was so upset with me refusing sex. Did he not realize how dirty his house was?
I was in a terrible mental state at this point and decided to just leave my good-paying job (sigh.) I knew my relationship with Mateo would never be the same and this would become a toxic work environment. I put in my two weeks and left peacefully on my last day …kind of. I was well-behaved until I reached the parking lot. I saw his car and keyed fuckboy on the entire driver’s side (enough was enough with men and their shenanigans.)
I learned a few good lessons from this situation. It’s definitely true what they say, never mix business with pleasure. Also, after a bad break-up it’s best to take some time to yourself and take back control of your feelings. If not, you might end up with a Mateo on a dirty ass couch.