Sunday, October 2, 2011

Deadbeat JayU

"I like the texture of your skin," said Deadbeat JayU.

"Thanks," I said.

"I would like to take you out," he said.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm too young to date."

"I like my women young."

"I'm not allowed to talk to you. Bye."

I've kept you in suspense long enough. You must be wondering who fathered my son. In December 1984, I crossed paths with Deadbeat JayU at a house party in Queens. I tagged along to one with my sister and her husband. As a matter of fact, Morgan F is the father of her first son. Since the day we met, he wouldn't let go of me. He called my sister more than fifty times. Finally, she gave him my number. At the time, he was 36 years old and I was 16.  Agreed, Deadbeat JayU is 20 years older than me. And I am 17 years older than my son. Bioliogically speaking, I was 8 when I conceived him. Because I survived brain injuries, I couldn't grow past 8 years old until I received stem cells from my son. In 9 months, I grew from 4 feet to almost 5 feet 5 inches. I might add that I was a child prodigy. Because of my brain injuries, I excel at advanced projects while I'm clumsy at basic ones. I started playing the piano at age 4.  At age 11, I earned a scholarship to study civil engineering in France in June 1979. I also landed another scholarship to study medicine in Canada in the same year, but I chose France. I wanted to acquire the French language.  Upon my arrival in Paris, I attended 2  more years of high school (A Levels) before starting my program in civil engineering. Given that I'm not good with basic tasks like hearing, talking and walking, I abandoned it in May 1983. Every summer, I took intensive French classes at the renowned University of Poitiers. In four years, I received a diploma in French at age 15. In June 1983, I boarded a plane from Charles De Gaulles airport and landed at John Fitzgerald Kennedy (JFK) airport in NYC. Since the month I arrived, I started taking Math classes as a non-degree student at Baruch College until I became pregnant with my child. CUNY also owns it. I took on more than 42 Math credits (14 Math courses), including Advanced Calculus. I excelled in all of them. Not surprisingly,  only half of them were transferred to Hunter College. I should have graduated with 160 semester credits as opposed to 140.

"You're wasting your time. I won't go out with you. I'm busy studying."

"What are you studying?"

"I have plans to study Architecture. I abandoned my civil engineering program in Paris."

"Did you live in Paris?"


"You're what the doctor ordered?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"I'm looking for a virgin."

"A virgin?"

"Yes. I like virgins."

"What makes you think I'm a virgin?"

"The texture of your skin."


"It's like a baby's skin."



"I still won't go out with you."

"Why not?"

"I just don't date."

"You're now in America, not Africa."

"I just left Europe, not Africa."

"It won't be dating. I would like to invite you to my home. I'll play my guitar."

"Do you play the guitar?"

"Yes. I'm a musician. Right now, I'm studying for my Masters in communications at Brooklyn College. I plan to return to music. I had a band when I lived in Africa. I've been on TV since I was 10 years old. "

"I play the piano."

"I knew we had a connection. Will you marry me?"

On my father's birthday, February 10, 1985, my son was conceived. Two months later, Deadbeat JayU abandoned me under the Brooklyn Bridge. He wanted me to have an abortion, but I refused. Several women, including my so-called sisters and his sisters kept him abreast of my brain injuries. As a matter of fact, he faked his own death to avoid paying child support. In April 1985, I took him to court in Brooklyn. I sent the papers via certified mail to his home in Queens. However, they were returned to me. He had moved out. Next, I called his sisters at Columbia University.

"He's dead," one of his sisters said.

"Show me the death certificate," I asked.

"Go on welfare!" another one said.

After that, I sent them to his sisters' home. He still didn't show up in court. Hence, I became a single parent by default. When I was four months pregnant, I found a job at a law firm on Park Avenue in June 1985. I worked until Friday, November 15, 1985. My son was born on Sunday, November 17, 1985. I had two hours of labor. Two weeks later, I returned to work on Monday, December 2, 1985. I breastfed him for two weeks. I didn't know I could freeze my breast milk or eggs. I had recurring amnesia and deafness. Two years later, I enrolled at Hunter College. I attempted to earn a BS in Accounting in two years. I ended up graduating in 1990 with a BA in Economics and Mathematics. I home schooled and enrolled my son at Strayer University at age 16. At 17 and half, female terrorists kidnapped him the day before my June 21 2003 birthday. Four months later, my father died of anxiety on October 7, 2003. I endured more than 5,000 refusals to hire and 50 wrongful terminations at their jealous hands. I've labored temporarily as an Accountant and Senior Financial Analyst with more than 50 companies in Corporate America. If truth be told, the law firm assignment was the only permanent job outside my home in the history of mankind. It lasted almost five years.

It begs the question. Marriage Made in Heaven or Hell? Would our marriage have been made in heaven or hell? Hell!!! He abandoned me under the Brooklyn Bridge when I was 2 months pregnant. He faked his own death to avoid paying child support. He owes me more than $200,000.00 in back pay child support.

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