plaintiff: felicia from philadelphia, pennsylvania. long wavy hair, glasses, an elaborate gold choker that i would never in a million years be able to pull off, glamorous long pink nails. manila folder that she PULLS OUT OF AN ACCORDION FOLDER. the real fucking deal.
the defendant: greg from philadelphia, pennsylvania. slim, chocolate complexion, dressed in black, locks pulled up into a ponytail, neck tattoos. i would definitely have sex with greg.
the complaint: felicia left an overnight bag at greg’s house and he ghosted her, never returning her belongings.
what does she want: $1,799 for unreturned property. countersuit yes lord: greg wants $500 because felicia poured water on him and pulled his dreads, which honestly sounds like foreplay to me but ok. oh wait i paused it too soon, the money is for defamation of character, which he will most certainly not be granted.
how it went down: felicia met greg on a dating website and i’m enjoying these first few seconds of optimism, the fleeting hope that these lovebirds met on a charming new site called real true love dot net or someplace equally quaint before she inevitably dashes my dreams by revealing that they found each other late at night, deep in the bowels of www dot fucking granny sluts dot org or some other foul shit. years ago my sister brought her new boyfriend to dinner so i could meet him, and i’m making uncomfortable small talk over drinks with this weirdo while praying for the waiter to interrupt with a bread basket or literally anything to distract us, until finally i was like “hey how did you kids meet?” expecting them to say ON THE BUS or AT THE STORE, literally any place that would not cause our dead mother shame. dude boldly announced “I FOUND HER ON ADULT FRIEND FINDER DOT COM” with his whole chest and everyone in the restaurant cringed simultaneously. i scraped my chair back, got up from the table, walked out of the restaurant, and walked right into the lake. i’m still walking!
so they met, the chemistry was amazing, and felicia felt butterflies from greg like she’d never felt before. aw man, that’s nice; i’m preemptively sad about whatever heart-shattering thing is coming next. so they met, they got along like gangbusters, he introduced her to his daughter and his barber and his mailman (probably) and she took that as a sign that they were gonna be together forever. i’ve gotta say, these modern day young people are different from us: they can introduce you to their entire families and never call your ass ever again. don’t be fooled just because they let you meet grandma. they will ghost you and grandma will ghost your dumb ass, too. speaking of grandmothers, i can’t tell if felicia is 25 or 65. greg is definitely young, but i put this laptop right up to my eyeballs twice and for the life of me i still cannot figure out this woman’s age.
before she can really get into the facts of this case greg recalls an incident in which felicia mistook his cousin as a woman he was dating and poured water on him in a jealous rage while yanking his hair, forcing him to snatch her wig off in the middle of the street to end the confrontation. felicia is screaming “that’s irrelevant!” which, probably? but it’s exciting nonetheless. she’s a mess! anyway they went on a date in march and the plan was that she was supposed to go back to his place afterward and she packed a hoe bag in anticipation. we’ve all packed hoe bags. the contents may vary, but generally include: spare underwear, a travel deodorant, maybe a toothbrush, a case for your glasses, perfume(s), and a george foreman grill just in case you feel like cooking up some chicken thighs the next morning and dude doesn’t have cookware. while they were out she had to use the bathroom and greg suggested he drive her to her place, instead of going to his???, and while she was inside peeing he drove the fuck off with all her shit in his car and she never heard from him (or her bag full of mac makeup!) again.
the ruling: greg’s hilarious version of this story is that felicia is a drama queen and they hadn’t gone on a date, they went to a park where they looked at the city and drank a bottle of wine. imagine filling your best dooney & bourke with all your good eyebrow pencils just for a dude to drive you to the park! BITCH I’LL SEE YOU IN COURT. after sitting on a bench for awhile greg took her back to her house to use the bathroom, fell asleep because she was taking so long inside, then he left her bag on the front stoop and drove off. felicia has many, many sheets of printed out text messages in which she is begging greg to just bring her bag back. she says the night was going perfect (greg: “it wasn’t”) and if he didn’t want to be with her anymore he could’ve just told her, he didn’t have to DRIVE OFF WITH HER BAG. greg is over this whole fucking circus and i get it. she made him wait forty minutes in his car so he threw a tantrum and drove off, probably chucked her bag out the window on the highway just to be rid of her. while it’s clear that felicia is probably annoying and probably a headache to be in a relationship with, those things aren’t crimes. and greg dismisses other greg’s defamation claims. verdict for the plaintiff, who is now crying for some reason.
did uncle greg say anything fucked up to anyone: “what’s his last name, burns? call him mister burns. my name is gregory!”