I Love an Oversharer!

What’s Goody? What’s going dine? Hope all is well on your end as you read this! I gotta say I’ve always been an extrovert, the life of the party, the kid who always got “A pleasure to have in class but excessive talking” comments on his report card, but I will say the older I’ve gotten the more I enjoy being reserved and chillin to myself. But one thing I will never not love is an OVERSHARER. And I ain’t just talking about the homie that get’s overly descriptive about each drink he had at the bar last night and how he almost bagged the baddie in the grey Toyota Camry in the Whataburger drive through but ran out of time because she only ordered a chocolate milkshake. (I mean let’s keep it a buck…he ain’t never pull no hoes, plus who’s really drinking heavy dairy in the wee hours of the morning after drinking all night? I bet that woman’s farts could peel an onion and make it sweat). Anyways, I also love the oversharer that you don’t even know…the random person that you just happened to come across at a particular moment in time and decides to share personal info with you that ain’t got shit to do with shit.

So I was chillin in line at the bank the other day, because people still do that apparently…like physically go to the bank. Did you know that you could deposit a check online? Like all you gotta do is just take a pic of the check and then your bank's app will deposit it for you!

That’s free game for you old heads like me! Anyways, I’m in line at the bank and the lady at the desk calls me out and says, “Mr. Williams, I can help you out over here.” And I know what you’re thinking, how do the people at the bank know me by name like that…and it’s simply because when you ball like I ball, everybody treats you like you’re Mortimer from Trading Places. 

(Side note, Mortimer is a hard ass name…might need to name my first son that. Baby if you’re reading this we’ll workshop this later).

But nah I’m just messing around with y’all, y’boy ain't actually ballin in the mix like that, she just saw my name tag from work so she knew that I was “Mr. Dizzle Stax Williams.” So anyways, as she called me Mr. Williams, the lady behind me asked, “Oh your last name is Williams?” And as I was simply nodding yes, I was thinking that maybe she was a Williams and we were long lost cousins, or even maybe she had beef with some Williams’ from way back when and was ready to ride on her enemies. But as I nodded my head yes she exclaimed, “MY EX HUSBAND WAS A WILLIAMS!” Not knowing what to say I just nodded my head and said, “ok,” but as I did that, she added more to the story claiming that that was her THIRD ex husband! Now see this is how I know God has been working on me, because the old Dizzle would’ve stopped everything he was doing and started egging this woman on to give me all of her life details while making up this fantastical life story for myself about how I was actually related to her third ex husband but we extradited him from the family because we’re actually apart of the first black amish family in America, and when he went on his rumspringer, he had a wild molly trip where he kissed three women (on the mouth) in one night and then got a tattoo of Rick Moranis from ‘Honey I Shrunk The Kids’ and Rasputia from ‘Norbit’ making love, right above his belly button. And since he was the “tech” person of the family as well as handled all of our finances, I was now stuck with traveling to the bank to deposit a check from our family cheddar cheese making business. Then I would have explained to her the delicacies of black amish cheddar cheese!

But see I didn’t do any of that…I just simply told her, “wow, what a small world” and kept it moving. But what wrecks my brain even to this day while I’m typing this, is what possessed her to distinguish that she was talking about her 3rd ex husband who I shared a last name with? I would really just love to take a deep dive into the brain of an oversharer and just simply ask, why? And now that I really think about it, there’s nothing even special about the name Williams. I mean I could understand it if my last name was something like Duckstein. I’m sure you couldn’t find two niggas named “Duckstein” in America! But Duckstein is kinda hard though…*add’s that to the list of possible son names* But hey if I walked into a room with 50 people, I’m sure 20% of us would be a Williams. So what made her ears perk up like that to think of her third ex husband when she heard the name Williams? Maybe she still wants that old thang back because husband number 4 just ain’t scratching that itch the way husband number 3 did. You know us Williams’ is some bad boys when it comes to the good ole rib tickler! Either way, I’m sure this lady will be haunting me with thoughts of “what if” until I run into my next random oversharer.

What do y’all think? I’d love to hear some stories about random oversharer’s that y’all have ran into so drop some comments and let me hear what you got! But that’s all I got for y’all this week, thank you for taking time out of your day kick it with me, and if there’s anything that I want you to remember, it’s that JESUS LOVES YOU!

Romans 8: 38-39