Where did the love go?--part 2

So I am driving home. I think back to the last time that I met this idiot.

March 1991. I am on my way to work. 7:45 am. I stop at the gas station to get some gas and Newports. (LMAO!! does this sound familiar?) I see a fine brutha standing in the service bay. We make eye contact. He walks over to my car. He says "What's a pretty girl like you doing pumpin her own gas?" (ROFLMAO!) We exchange numbers. He calls. We are talking. The getting to know each other shit. He tells me he does not have a girlfriend. I tell him that I do not have a man--he just recently moved out of my apartment. So, after talking about 15 minutes this freak starts talking sexual shit. Just plain'ol disrespectful shit. Eatin' pussy. Fuckin' in the ass. just crazy shit. All the things he wanted to do to me when he saw me next.
I was just not ready for this. It was such a turn-off. I made an excuse to get off the phone.

He called the next day and the next. I never answered the phone. I was not privy to caller ID back then. Nor did I have a cell. I literally NEVER answered my phone until after the answering machine picked up, and I knew who was calling. I never, ever wanted to talk to this man again.

And I didn't. I lived my life. I did my thing. For 3 years, and never, ever once thought about this man.

So imagine my panic when I realize that this is the same muhfucker. But I wonder, is this fate? Is this a sign? What are the chances of me running into this fool twice? With 3 years in between? Is this the man that I was meant to be with? But, once I get home, I never give him a second thought.

Problem was, not only did I not give him a second thought, I was not thinking clearly when three weeks later, I dropped my car off for an oil change and tune up. At the same damn place. I go in the evening to pick up my car. Guess who's working? Baby daddy to be.
I pick up my car, and we talk for a few minutes. I confirm that this is the same nasty fool from before. At that point, I shudda ran like the wind.
He tells me that he doesn't have a woman, and that he would like to get together. I tell him maybe. (lie!)

I really had no intentions hooking up with this man. NONE.

A few days later, I am at work and guess who calls? mmmmmhmmmm. Seems he got my work number off my paperwork for my car. And my name. and my address. Jesus christ. I shudda called the police on his ass then. Of course, I was somewhat flattered. I could not, however, forget the reason that I stopped talking to him in the first place. But now, I was a little bit older, and a little more receptive to the freakiness.

That day he comes up to my work. He takes me to lunch. He drives a big 'ol pimp hoopty Caddy. He pulls out a picture. He shows it to me.
Screeeeeeetchhhhhhhhhhh. *me putting the skids on--hold the fuck-up*

Oh hell naw, I think. Not again.