#renegadedating

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

By Anonymous

Part VI: The Third Date

My third date was on Friday, November 20 at 8 PM. As I am writing this piece, it is Monday, November 23, 2015.  We went to this open mic event at this café, in downtown Atlanta. As promised, I told him that I would take care of it. I RSVP-ed a table, handed my $100 bill to pay for the two tickets and felt like a boss. At one point, he got out his driver license and I went, “I got this”, thinking he was about to pay.

We sat down, I ordered some food and drinks. The café played some of the best old-school hip hop I hadn’t heard in a while. Since we arrived early before the show— where we would have to select the best artist showing that night; we got to talk about music and some of the best artists we enjoy. We can spend all day talking about music.

However, what I loved more about that night is that, we got closer to each other. Based on our previous conversations, I had a feeling that something was going to happen. Our chairs got progressively closer, we would tease each other often as we touched each other’s body and pulled back, touch again only to pull back again. I bought us a round of tequila shots. The guy was impressed. And as the night moved on, his left hand found itself sometimes on my leg, my back and my neck. At some point, he took my hand in his, and our fingers interlocked. Hot.

The show ended at 12 am. He drove me home and professed that he had had one of the best night ever. I was tickled pink that he had a great time. Although, I kept thinking: “ I just spent $100 today. I will not be surprised if some guys spent just as much!” Methinks, next time we will split the bill. I will add that, once we got the bill, our conversation went a little bit like this:  

Him: “Should we split the bill?”

Me: “Nah, I got this!”

And I did. I had it; I handled it.

Back in the car, as we were making small talk, I asked if he wanted to go see a documentary with me the following night.

Him: “Unfortunately, I have my daughter staying with me. And I try to not avoid my time with me”

I was crushed. I understood. Nonetheless, I was crushed. I didn’t resent the time he would spend with her, but I mourned the fact that we wouldn’t spend the evening together. But I understood that there will be times where I will be his second choice. Hell, I will probably ALWAYS be his second choice. And I don’t mind. It is what it is.

And so he came that I found myself in front of my building, in his car. There was a pause as we looked at each other, wondering what will happen. And then:

Him: “ I really want to kiss you. Can I kiss you?”

Me: “ Yeah…”

Guys. It was a great kiss. It was controlled, it was not sloppy and it was just….great. And I have kissed enough to know what makes a terrible kiss. My glasses fogged, my eyes were closed and I was in heaven. As we kissed, I was unaware that I was accidentally pushing the volume button. Can we say, it felt straight out of a 80s rom-com?! So, as we moved apart, he chuckled and said:

“ You know you were augmenting the volume?”

“No way! I so, was not…”

“ Yeah, you were. It was cute”

I was slightly embarrassed but he said that I was a good kisser. Yes! I think I have been congratulating myself for the past 3 days.

In any case, after many, many years, it’s been nice to make out with a great kisser.

The following morning, I received this text from him:

“ I had a BLAST last night. Thank you so much. Much love for that. And I definitely had a dream that continued our kiss in the car. Wow.”

Check.Mate. This is going somewhere good, right?  

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

By Anonymous

Part V: The second Date

We went to this Mexican restaurant not too far from each other. The wait line was massive. We decided to catch a drink at this bar across from the restaurant. We got to talking about the issues he has with his mom and his work. I am pretty sure we talked about music, his work and a myriad of other stuff. Nothing too heavy for sure. Although, he did mention that he had sacrificed his personal life for his professional one and that is one choice he regrets. I did not probe further, although I filed it for a later discussion.  He taught me how to say ‘Burito’ the right way: the trick is to roll the ‘r’. Towards the end of the night, I reminded him that he had promised me a private spoken word performance. He walked into the rain to get the car closer to me so I wouldn’t have to walk in the rain. What a gentleman. I got in and he goes:

“You got three choices. I can do something funny, personal or something sad.”

I chose the personal one. His spoken word was amazing. He talks about the love he has for his daughter. And at the end, he had tears in his eyes. My heart melted just a little bit. As he drove me home, we played, ’20 questions’. I know that his favorite color is blue, his birth month is April and that he likes honesty above all else. I got to know that he tends to over-analyze everything. Once we reached the front of my apartment, he showed me pictures of his daughter, and asked me if I had liked spending my time with him. I said yes and walked in my apartment building.

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

By Anonymous

Part IV: Musings 1 

No, this is not an update on my second date but just some musings I have had since I have met him. It is Tuesday, November 3, 2015 and I have spent the better part of the afternoon debating what outfit to wear. Should I be hot and alluring? Sexy and confident? Sexy and relaxed? I showed my best friend, all the way from France, the potential date outfits.

Turn out most of them did not measure up to her standards. I was told heels, sexy, heels some more, be sexy some more. And that dress that fit me a few months ago? Well, my belly was certainly well defined now.

Essentially, I feel fat. And unattractive. Which is surprising considering I am the first one to exclaim, “I am the isht! I look amazing and no one can tell me anything!” But, on this Tuesday night, I feel pretty down. I start to ask myself questions like, “Why does Latin like me?” “Does he REALLY like me?” “What do I have that other prettier girls do not have?” “Do I need to be skinnier? Will he like me more?”

Yes, there’s more to attractiveness than beauty. But among the pretty blondes/brunettes with the tea drinks and the makeup experts on social media, the regular girl in me feels doubt and off her confidence level. Oh, I am sure it will pass. But in the meantime, I can’t help but feel a bit depressed about how I rank in the beauty department as a dark skin black woman in a society that applaud the brown and white skin.

But, as Taylor Swift says…I am going to “Shake It Off” and go on about this date and be fabulous. I just have to go one step at a time.

PS: Did I mention that I and Latin have a texting relationship? We haven’t called each other, yet we have shared over 100 texts to each other within the 4 weeks we have known each other. The reason is that I am plagued with doubts about the proprieties of calling him; “What if he is with the mother of his daughter?” “What if he is with his daughter?” “What if he is with another girl?”. This is not an exclusive relationship and I am unaware of the social etiquette that would permit me to call whenever I want.

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

By Anonymous

Part III

Then he left for two weeks and what seemed the longest weeks of my life. Okay, I am exaggerating because school kept me busy. During these two weeks, we incessantly texted:

Him: “ Are you on Snapchat?

Me: “ I am too cool for that…”

Him: “ My higher intelligence is preventing me from sleeping…”

Me: “Well, you better dumb it down!...”

Him: “On my way to LA now, preciosa (Spanish for ‘Precious’…) and hopefully we can hang out when I get back…”

And the texts flew back and forth during his two weeks away. We are both so passionate about spoken word that I told him that I would sign him up for a performance without his knowledge so he could show off his skills to me. He did not take me up on that ‘offer’ but did offer to give me a private performance on two conditions:

1)      That I agree to go out with him on a second date (Heck yeah!!)

2)      That I don’t become annoying in-between (Major side eye as I intrigue him as much as he does me!)

Needless to say, I am getting a private performance. And a second date. The latter of which I was worried would actually happen. I, sometimes, screenshot his texts to my roommate when he would say something funny. And I…ahem…accidently resent HIM the screen shot. He asked if I was sharing our conversations. Oh, the embarrassment! And so I copped to it. I told him that it was a one-time thing (it wasn’t) and that I wanted to share the funny comment. His response?

“#Awww #Romantic “

This fool.

He made me like him even more. Darn it. I don’t need this. He is in an open relationship. Admittedly, I don’t know what it looks like but no need to be emotionally involved if I am going to be the ‘side chick’! Right? Right? I still haven’t saved his number in my phone. To this day, he is just a number without a name.

And as we incessantly texted during the week, he went:

“ Do you like dessert? I’m thinking we eat cheesecake and get a bottle of wine, all while discussing the upcoming election and key platforms the candidates are pursuing. Either that, jager bombs and fried food while listening to rap. Your choice J “

I don’t know about you but I love a man who knows his grammar and well-constructed sentences. I found it irrevocably sexy. As I declined the thought of discussing politics on a Friday night (and honestly, because I need to brush up on my politics. I don’t want to look like a fool!), I chose the second option and we agreed to meet on Friday for our second date. The date has evolved to include bowling, fried food and some sort of alcohol.

This guy, whom I am going to now refer to as ‘Latin’ in reference to his heritage (Latin America), is slowly creeping into my heart. And I am fighting so hard to not let him in too deep. But, I like him. I really, really like him. Our second date?

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

By Anonymous

Part II

And so I texted him. Our first date would on Friday, October 23 at a location of my choice. Before that, I went through several outfit changes for my first impression. He was on time. I was late. He was cool with it. I approached the table; he was looking down with a pint of beer in front of him, slightly to his right side (my left side), and no cell phone in sight. I approached, he looked up, he stood up and gave me the most comfortable hug ever. If you’ve ever been hugged by someone who give amazing hugs, you know what I am talking about. The most important thing is that he looked like his picture, he was lean and he was taller than me. Several boxes checked. His first question to me was:

“How was the Uber ride? Did you have a nice conversation with him? I love talking to Uber drivers! You learn so much from and about them!”

I loved it. He was the extrovert to my introvert. The peanut to my jelly. Most importantly, he made me comfortable. And the conversation flowed like a river in calm weather. Our conversations dealt mainly with:

-Hip Hop (he placed Eminem in the top 5, while I argued that KRS One merited a place at the top). And I listed some of my favorite Bboys/girls.

-Spoken Word Poetry—he had judged a competition once and had loved the experience

- Sports—his favorite team is Barcelona while mine happens to be Paris Saint Germain (PSG). And we talked about the racism in the sport; Jose Bautista and his bat flip (to which he took the time to explain to me why it made the round in sports media); baseball, basketball and our favorite teams.

As we segwayed into the night and to our second bar, we bonded over our love of Sam Cooke, Otis Redding, Michael Jackson, and the old school artists. I discovered that he was half Latin and had lived in a pretty poor household; that he used to play basketball with the Latin and Black kids in his neighborhood; that the organization he works for saved him from a destructive future. I heard about his love for the work that he does. And I was enthralled. How many do you meet that love what they do and of whom you can hear the passion as they describe the impact of their work? Not many, I will guess. He talked about how he was going to be traveling to LA and Seattle to visit the different fractions of his organization in the next two weeks.

As he talked, the more I thought, “even if nothing romantic happens with us, I want to be his best friend.” Then midnight came and the bar closed. And so Cinderella had to go back home. As we walked outside, he asked: “Will you order Uber or will you let me take you home?”

He took me home.

And as I walked to the car, so comfortably, with a bit of sway to my walk; congratulating myself that I had not been the awkward woman I am when in front of good looking men. I walked to the passenger door and I saw it. The baby car seat.

But I was NOT going to mention it. This is only the first date. What if he found me utterly boring and not worth a second date? What if he only saw me as a friend, why ask about the toddler that he has? And as I slid into the passenger seat, I was reminded about that text he had sent earlier in the week:

“I hope you know that I am in an open relationship. It was in my profile, but I just want it out in the open...”

I had forgotten it. While I basked in the greatness of talking to a guy who shared my interests, my sarcasm, who got my jokes and who made me laugh from the depth of my belly to my throat; just for a moment…I had forgotten.