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Never Bite the Hand That Feeds You


Unfortunately, I am again single, but I also look at it as fortunate. Three months in I was not in too deep, and I could see the light and the entrance of the 'so-called' tunnel of love I rode in on, sitting on the back of a swan with my 'pitbull'. At closer look, I realized the swan was made of cheap plastic, the tunnel was not full of love but greed, and my 'pitbull' was more damaged than ever. Noticing the damage first, I tried to patch the holes with TLC and medical visits, in hopes to partner up and take on his issues as a team. Little did I know that the hole was very deep and widening day by day. In addition, the damage was done so long ago, the scar tissue would never allow the wound to heal.

My Pitbull was not the happy puppy I thought. He was expecting everything but a
partner. He was looking for a mommy, sugar mamma, nurse, and buddy. His world the only experience he knew and a closed mind to anything or anyone else. He did what he wanted and bit when judged of his actions. His need to compete against anyone limited his ability to open up and accept others as equals. In his mind, he was always in need of attention.

Well, he bit the hand that fed him for the last time. Disrespecting my line of work, he decided tipping was unimportant and that the hospitality industry is not deserving of his money. I cut the leash once the bite broke my flesh, blood trickling from my hand. A simple gesture of flipping the middle finger at me, my job and my opinion on tipping, fueled my walk to the door to leave for good.

Enjoy your life, closing the door on people. You have managed the strengthen the walls of my heart, similar to your tough and impenetrable heart, which needs an external machine to keep it from stopping. My heart needs no help, as I am a better person without your issues filling my life with worry and stress. Run away little Pitbull with your tail between your legs. My bite wound will heal but your gaping wound will never close.


Jen McIntyre | Create your badge
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