Posts Tagged ‘dating’

So I wrote a comment on Belle’s blog and it was spun off much like the Cleveland show into its own entity. The subject was what men want in a relationship and why they stay/leave. An excerpt:

I usually don’t break out comments and such, but two posters just had an insightful exchange about yesterday’s post that I think is a turning point in the discussion. I think highlighting it is most appropriate.

From Brandon St. Randy (ie. Male POV):

Although the commentary here is interesting, a lot of it smacks of an innate distrust of the opposite gender. Women don’t trust men to be able to be the “manly man” provider/protector and and feel they have to hedge their bets against him potentially abandoning them/their family. Men don’t trust women to respect them as a man or let them play their “manly role” and there’s an undercurrent of fear that if their money gets funny, their woman will abandon them or try to emasculate them (Hence, the waiting until pockets are right to settle down mentality)….

Read the rest here: I imagine the commentary will get pretty good.

Glad I didnt take no for an answer

Glad I didn't take no for an answer

So I’ve decided a new series is in order. And it centers around what it hink is the most fundamental issue affecting not just black relationships, but relationships period: Communication. Let’s face it, men and women communicate in different ways. Now, I haven’t read the 5 Love Languages, but I think I will. Because I, like pretty much everyone else in the world, sometimes gets confused by what the opposite sex is trying to tell me. They’re trying to tell me something, I’m trying to listen, and yet the intended message gets lost in the mix. And sometimes I try to say something, she tries to listen, but still, we come to no conclusion. So let’s talk about it.

One of the things I hear over and over again from upper and middle class black women is that their male peers aren’t approaching them. They’re not “putting in any work.” Says the homette, Pass Me a Shovel,

So what’s up with these college-educated dudes, anyway? The ones who got them a lil piece of paper, and want to act like their shit is the freshest thing since Wild Honeysuckle and Butterfly Flower hit the shelves at Bath N Body Works. You’ve seen them around. You can usually find them standing along the wall, or in VIP at the clubs with their supastunna shades on, their button-downs, or the relic-style fitted tees with jeans and shiny sharp shoes, trying their damnest to emulate the “coolest muthafucka on the planet!”

Dancing? Oh no, they don’t dance. Didn’t you get the memo? They’re too good for that. And buy you a drink? Are you KIDDING them? It’s the 00’s (that sounds lame – we gotta come up with another description for our generation, btw) – YOU buy THEM a drink. “A Long Island, please”… Do you want a little umbrella straw and a lemon to go with that, you siddity BASTARD!

But about 65% of the time I’ve gone out in the Midwest, I’ve faced the same problem: dudes with a stick (or maybe a dick) up their asses. These are dudes that I would call high maintenance. They’re educated and rather accomplished, well groomed, with a bit of swag, and they even look decent. But they all seem to have a problem with approaching women….or maybe they don’t want to?…. While the women are all out on the dance floor, these dudes are just posted up on the sidelines, drinks in hand, observing. And if you happen to catch their eye, they will stare you down, and never approach you.

Damn these conceited bastards. Who do they think they are not approaching their beautiful black queens. Simple enough, no? But wait. From Absolut Brooke

“please observe obvious signs that the woman is not interested. there is NOTHING worse than a man who is a fucking pest, and following you around the parking lot. you look desperate and lame.”

Um, I mean, that’s fair. OK. Maybe I’ll try out this lounge here. From Josie in the City

“It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with my girlfriend’s, because I absolutely do but at times, when we go out to a nice lounge, I don’t want to watch any of my girlfriend’s lose her sense of self when an “Alpha male” walks through the door. My mood takes a turn for the uncomfortable if there is any outlandish behavior being exhibited by one of the ladies. There is nothing that puts me off quicker than seeing one of the chica’s trolling for men….

All I am saying is that I would love to have some girlfriend time without some lounge lizard thinking he is going to get lucky that night with some hoo hoo action. Not with these ladies you’re not. So beat it. Scram. Move along lounge lizard. These seats are taken and no, we don’t care if you think you “know us from somewhere.” Puleeease.”

Oh. Well, sorry, I was just trying to meet some new people.  Sorry for bothering you.Let’s see what Daydreamer had to say

I’m sorry that I refuse to settle, and meeting my potential husband at a bar, club or party is unacceptable (and settling.)

Call me paranoid but the club scene is not like a bar at Cheers where everybody knows your name. If I am out with the gals for the night, it’s just me and them. Mixing and mingling may get flirty and fun but the buck has to stop somewhere. I have seen too many 11 o’clock news flashes about some bridge & tunnel chick going missing from a local club and her body is found floating in the Hudson. Extreme, maybe. But am I alive? Yes.

In my opinion, meeting my mate in a respectable place kills a lot of speculation and pre-judgment. Recently my homegirls and I entertained the idea of exotic dancing to keep a man happy. We wanted to get a few lessons and take notes on how to this, so what better place than where it’s done live and in living color? We headed to the strip club and I learned first hand that the strip club has become much less about the women swinging on the poles, but more of a social event for the opposite sexes. I was shocked. So sure I meet nice guy A there but WHERE did I meet him? Strip Club. Right. A ton of questions fill my head: What sort of connotation does this place have? Is this where we spends his ‘spare’ time? Did he come here to mack to women? Hmmmm.

There are a couple exceptions to my rule. If I’m attending a club or bar for an event like a private birthday party and I meet a nice guy, I’ll take him seriously. I am also very comfortable with exchanging info at house parties, too — as long as I know the host. The same can be said for professional networking events or group dinners/outings. I always like to have a POR (point of reference).

This POR must be someone I trust and how I can call a) if the guy cuts the fool; or b) to ask a few key background questions. Just as my Mama taught me not to talk to strangers, I don’t exchange info with strange men. Yes, that is what a random man at a bar is— strange.

Well damn. You’ll excuse us if after reading through some of those comments, we feel like women would rather be waterboarded and then sodomized with a plunger than have a man approach them. A lot is made of the dichotomy between how more shall we say “hood” types are willing to approach any woman any time. This is usually said with an odd mixture of both disdain and quiet respect. So here’s why I imagine there’s some hesitance on the part of the upper crusty black dude to put himself out here like that too much:

1. It’s a small world If you’re a bouge, and he’s a bouge, guess what. You either know each other or know some of the same people. So unless he’s fairly certain you’re interested, the consequences of a holler gone wrong can be pretty far reaching. One, you’re going to embarass him at the time and place. Two, you’re going to tell your friends, which will embarass him further. And Three, when your cute friend who actually may be interested in him asks about him, you’ll reply with the “girl, please. He tried to holler at me at Kwabuki’s event.” And since y’all have that rule about dating people who’ve tried to holler at your friends, denied. We’re pragmatic people, women.

2. Professional Haters Not a lot of you, but some of you all take an inodinate amount of joy in shutting dudes down who try to talk to you. It’s probably more of a young thing, and to some degree, a lower class thing, but it exists. This is the chick that’s rude to you for no reason when you say hi, or who has a smart ass response to anything you might have to say. Everyone has to get their self-esteem from somewhere, this just ain’t really a productive way to go about it.

3. Fear of bug-a-booness There are a lot of really great girls out there. And a lot of great guys that are interested in them. But every single day, I see someone getting summerjam screened on twitter or FB of Gchat for “calling too much,” “not getting the hint”, or some other similar phrase for “fuck off.” Maybe it’s the fault of social media, but there’s no glory anymore in wooing ,courting, and winning a woman’s love. Only embarassment and scoffing at the attempt to do so.

I mean, I would love to hear a Barack/Michelle story from our generation, but I just don’t see a lot of it. And in this age where so many people think they are their public persona (quietly, no one really cares. You was who you was fore you got here), there’s added disincentive to go out on a limb.

So, on this one, I’m going to encourage the fellas to give a  little more brass tacks. The Michelles might be a little harder to crack than the thirsty chick who you know is going to give you some play, but maybe she’s worth it. A little light stalking never killed anyone. Heavy stalking, a slightly different story, perhaps. Ladies, you have to carry your game however you feel. I can’t make this decision for you. But I will say this, put yourself on too high of a pedestal, and no one’s going to break out the trampoline to make a leap at it. Happy Hunting.

Checklists

Posted: August 11, 2009 in Uncategorized
Tags: , ,

You have one. In your diary. Maybe jotted in the margins of some self-help book you read. Perhaps jotted on the photocopied pages of that Steve Harvey guide you limewired and printed on your work computer. It’s the checklist of what a good man/woman has to have to be your mate. How tall do they have to be? DO they have to be good looking? REALLY good looking? Or just not so offensive to look at that babies cry in their presence? Do they need an advanced degree? What about a high paying jb? Do they have to be Christian? Or even super-Christian? What if they’re not that funny? Do they need a huge cock? big voluptuous tittays? Is it more important that they’re kind? Or do they need to be so motivated and ambitious, they’ll crush the skulls of puppies with their bare hands to get where they’re going? What’s on your checklist? And do you actually live by your checklist? Are you settling if your person doesn’t meet what’s on your list?

So in the this episode of Romance and Finance, we’re going to focus on the neverending obsession we have with golddiggers. As much as we may say we hate them, let’s face it, we love talking about them. Without gold diggers, where would our economy be? What incentive would there be for men to work? To innovate? To buy Ferrarris? To sack Egypt? None. Before I begin today’s extrapolation, I want to share with you a little post from our friends at Dating a Banker Anonymous:

Dear Daba Girls,

I am a potential FBF (Finance Boyfriend), I am in my mid/late-twenties working as a trader for a bank in Zurich, which is certainly not as big or as happening as New York however, having lived in a big city, I like it here. The ski slopes are only an hour away during winter and in the summer, weekend trips around Europe are all too easy to organize. Bearing all of this in mind; there is still one aspect of my life which is incomplete and that is: I am still a “potential FBF”. I am having trouble finding a decent DABA girl to share it all with. I lie awake at night dreaming of being mentioned (anonymously, and although this may defeat the object of the whole exercise in the first place, she would of course tell me all about it afterwards and we would both laugh about it…) on your website by a young lady who desperately needs help trying to figure out new and exciting ways of spending my money and of prying me away from the office.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I lack attention from the fairer of the species, it just so happens that I am unable to tell the difference between those that are truly worth it (DABA Girls) and those that aren’t (Bottle-popping girls).  So for the sake of “potential FBFs” (can you think of a better term for that one?) around the world could you please give me some pointers as to how to tell the difference between the two?  How do I know that the girl I may be chatting to at the bar is actually a complete sleaze who is just in it short-term for the cash?  And more importantly, how do I send out the right signals to the girls that are actually worth it?

Any help would be greatly appreciated.

Yours truly,

Timo

Ah, finally we get some love from Switzerland, where the locals love cheese with holes, classic timepieces, and chocolate as much as we do. Not to mention the huge vaults filled to the brim with gold.  Don’t despair Timo. We can help.

Spotting a true DABA Girl is as easy as ABC (I’m watching the Michael Jackson tribute so just go with it). Take a cue from MJ and be on the look out for:

A: Authenticity. A true DABA Girl is authentic in all that she does. Her boobs, laugh, and intentions are real. Her intentions with you, or any guy, may include a little somethin’ somethin’ about a man that can ‘provide a certain lifestyle’ but she will be honest and upfront about it. On the other hand, if she tells you she is just looking for a soul mate and then claims to love action movies, you have encoutnered a bottle poppin’ girl charading as DABA Girl and your B.S. meter should go off.

B: Boyish charm. I’m talking about her alpha personality. A DABA Girl doesn’t need you to order for her (but you should), she’s self sufficient, opinionated, and confident. Beware, she’s not going to let you get away with much. Make sure that your information on the late Mr. McNamara’s career is factual (she’ll know if you’re just regurgitating yesterday’s article from the Times).

C: Coolness. A DABA girl isn’t desperate. She doesn’t care if she meets you or not. Most likely she’s dating three other guys already. You’re going to have to approach her.

Which brings me to these easy steps:

1: You’re zeroed in on your girl. Whether you’re at a bar and she’s laughing away with her friends or sitting at a cafe reading Isadore Sharp’s Four Seasons send over a drink or stop and say hi. Simple as that. Warning: DABA Girls are not girl haters and therefore do travel in packs.  To get to her you may have to approach a group of 4+ women. If this intimidates you, you are not FBF material, and you should stick to bottle poppin girls who generally travel in two’s to avoid competition.

2: Be calm and confident. A DABA Girl wants to meet a guy who is uber confident and won’t be intimidated by her. Don’t be a jerk, but a sprinkling of cockiness never hurt.

3: If you click, ask her if she would like to get together some time. Call the next day (note: I said call, don’t text or email). Take her on a date that you would like to go on. Don’t take her to Benihanas because you want to make sure she’s not into you just for your money. Don’t take her to a five star restaurant, you’ll look like you’re trying too hard. Take her to a restaurant that you’ve been dying to try or one that you love.

If you are indeed the potential FBF you claim to be, we assume you can take it from here.

See, I wanted to start this out on a nice, conciliatory note. A nice man with some money wants to find him a nice girl who will appreciate his money. Everyone wins. Hooray! Of course, that’s not how it seems to go down in my little world. For the most part, whenever the topic comes up during dinner, it quickly devolves into men describing every woman who wants more than a two-piece from Popeye’s as a gold digger and the women accusing the men of being cheap bastards who are too poor by several hundreds of thousands of dollars to even show up on any self-respecting gold digger’s radar. Which begs the question: What is a gold-digger? I mean I always thought it was fairly self-evident but apparently I’m wrong. Is Kelis a gold-digger? Or just a woman scorned who deserves a decent severance package after what her husband put her through? What about Heather Mills? Is it her fault she got married in a 50/50 jusrisdiction? More to the point, what about less celebrated, everyday women who have differing opinions on their financial responsibility within a relationship? Or who have an income standard for the men they date? Are they filthy gold digging whores? Or just women with standards? With that in mind, I’ll give you my take on the varying levels of diggery

Need I even add a caption?

Need I even add a caption?

1. Professional Gold Digger The Bad News: This is the type of woman who has the skills, mentality, and charm to rape your pockets. We’re talking ad infinetum legally enforced payments here. The Good News: She could care less about your broke ass. Unless you’re a banker, ballplayer, or some other level of highly compensated dude, she’s not interested. Your splurges are her everyday trick-off money. She’s been in a helicopter before, likely had sex in one. She not only has been in a Ferrari before, she knows how to work the paddle-shift and can parallel park three models perfectly (She has trouble with the Enzo because of the rear visibility). She doesn’t need a job. Why would she waste her time working some 9-5 slaveship when she could be shopping, starting an ill-conceived clothing line or running her man’s fraudulent tax shelter nonprofit foundation. When women berate men for worrying about gold-diggers because their incomes don’t qualify, this is the woman they’re talking about. When she’s with you, she’ll spend your cheese. When she’s not with you anymore, she’ll STILL be spending your cheese. For all intents and purposes, this chick really isn’t in the conversation because she really is out of your league.

You aint quite in the majors yet, baby

You ain't quite in the majors yet, baby

2. Amateur Gold Digger This is where we start getting into the danger zone. Unlike the professional gold-digger, the amateur doesn’t do this full-time. She keeps a job or income stream going because she recognizes the cyclical nature of gold diggery. Often one of these jobs or hobbies will include either a position which keeps her in close contact with rich men or some sort of modeling/stripping gig to keep her attractiveness front and center for those that would trick.

See me, rich man, see me!

See me, rich man, see me!

As such, her standards are lower. While she may be date the same dudes as the professional GD, she’s missing either the looks, skill, or mentality to convert this into a full time occupation. She may even be conflicted about being a gold digger and secretly want to be an independent woman. She never pays for dates, but will happily accept drinks from men she is completely uninterested in at the nightclub/lounge. She knows all the promoters and never waits in line.Occasionally, these women will go through  period of time of rejecting their diggerness, choosing to grow their hair natural, compose poetry, and smoke weed after being emotionally hurt by a rich man. This phase will lapse quickly as she realizes them chewstick/backpack dudes are every bit as shady, but all she gets out of them is a vegetarian meal at some organic restaurant and some brick-pack Georgia dirt weed. Weave and Louis Bag status will return quickly. This woman often equates her worth as a person with what she can get out of men and is prone to extreme moodiness and periods of depression when the money isn’t flowing at her and euphoria and happiness when she is receiving a lot of attention.

If I show him Im still flexible, hell buy me a drink

If I show him I'm still flexible, he'll buy me a drink

3.LeechProbably the most prevalent of the gold-digging species, this bitch is just cheap. She has a job but likely spends a good deal of her discretionary income on frivolous things. She despises being called a gold digger and will be the most vocal opponent of the use of the term in describing women. She justifies her bent by using cliches like “I’m spoiled” and “I like the finer things in life.” She enjoys the attention of men, and often engages in diggerish pursuit more for the sport of it than for any legitimate financial gain. While she talks a good game about getting money from men, she usually lacks the discipline to move up to professional status. Often, this is a phase enjoyed by women in their early 20’s.  She is usually getting boned by a broke ass dude on the side who’s either working on a record deal or doing some other economically irrelevant shit. This means that she can string men along for free dinners and gifts for quite some time without giving up any ass as she has a consistent dick supply. As a pragmatist, she recognizes that she needs to keep her shit somewhat together and that she will likely not be able to maintain a lifestyle off of a man forever. She is quick to call a dude cheap and argue that she could pay for some shit herself, but never does. If she takes leftovers home, it’s very likely that her producer boyfriend will enjoy them on your dime. Her monetary standards are fairly low and typically consist of subsistence items like dinners, groceries, and occasionally a nice gift. As such, these women are extremely dangerous to men making below six figures as they can quickly drain away income that could be invested. These are the kind of broads whose bladders be acting up right at the exact moment the bill’s about to arrive at a group dinner.

Now on to the second point: Why do men have such a harsh reaction to gold diggers? Two reasons. The first is that men ARE their money. That’s what we’re celebrated for, recognized for, and put on the cover of Forbes for. No one celebrates Diddy for his talent. They celebrate him because he’s paid. Gold diggers are by nature, a threat to that money, whether via a professional taking millions in the divorce and draining you monthly with alimony, or by a leech siphoning off what little entertainment cash you have. The second is that while we ARE to the public, our money, we’re still at the end of the day who we are as most importantly as people. We want people to like us for who we are, not for what we can do for them. That’s why a surprising amount of rich men end up marrying fairly plain or non-gorgeous women. It’s fine to trick off some dough to fuck a dime, but almost no one wants to wake up in the morning, look at the woman sleeping next to them, and know that if this bed in this bedroom in this four bedroom home in this gated community were in a one bedroom apartment in a sketchy neighborhood, they wouldn’t be here. That’s just not a good feeling. That’s why you so many men who have made it big also harbor a slight disgust toward the women who who approach them now. The “Back then” story is real to a lot of men, because we know at our core, we’re the same person, it’s just the circumstances have changed. So if someone wasn’t interested in you then, is it that they’re interested in you know, or interested in what you can provide. No one likes being used. I imagine it’s the same story to a lot of women who have lost a ton of weight. Now why we still act a monkey for y’all and try to impress you with our degrees and earning power given all this, I don’t know. I guess we’re conflicted too.

I be popping bottles, Ma! But dont expect me to pay for dinner. That would make you a gold digger, trying to go after the money Im trying to flaunt here. Unacceptable

I be popping bottles, Ma! But don't expect me to pay for dinner. That would make you a gold digger, trying to go after the money I'm trying to flaunt here. Unacceptable

mmmmhhh. chocolate

mmmmhhh. chocolate

Jessica White makes me all shy and stuttery

So I got a comment on one of my recent blog posts (scroll down) and it was so bloody long, I decided to make it its own post. I think the commentor brought up some interesting points, so I though it would be fun to let it stand on its own and see what you guys think. I was going to write comment response but there’s a lot in here. I really think some of the thought process in here is super interesting and I don’t think the commentor is alone. I’m guessing a lot of people have these opinions.  Happy 4th!

Brandon,

What an interesting post. I both agree and disagree with varying points throughout your post (as well as the comments). I have an undergraduate degree in Economics from a top-ten institution. I. Am. Beautiful. And I am currently pursuing my Phd.

I must admit that miss “Single Black Woman’s” scenario has been my own on far too many occasions. I tell a guy I am working towards my Phd and he says “wow, that’s cool” and doesn’t seem interested any more. I have no clue why, and I choose not to concern myself with this question as it doesn’t concern me. I also, however, agree with “Miko” when he states that the laws of attraction (if they exist!) are far more nuanced and complex than we can possibly imagine.

Discussing my own situation (about which I am eternally positive) is not why I am responding to your post. I chose to write back because of the following words that arrested my attention:

“how people react to you is in direct proportion to how you make them feel. When you make them feel good about you and themselves, they will respond positively to you.”

I will give you credit for stating at the end that your advice can be applied to all genders. I find your advice curious though for a several of reasons. Your entire post is not directed at both genders. It is aimed directly towards women (I will presume women of African descent). This robs those words at the end of your post of their meaning. I also find these words to be inherently contradictory, as the title of this post reads:

“It’s not that we’re intimidated, You’re just a bitch”

I understand that this is a blog and where you have to balance several (perhaps competing goals). Your apparent ease with labeling women with this awful and derogatory term would suggest that men in fact, do not have to follow this advice of emanating positivity and “making the other person feel good about themselves.” At the very least, you do not have to follow this advice.

Response: The post was really directed towards women because they’re the ones who have complained to me (or generally) that one of the hindrances towards their relationship successes is men being intimidated by them. The day a critical mass of black men tell me the same thing, I’ll write a blog about that. Awful and Derogatory, Schmawful and Shwerogatory. I personally think women have kind of hijacked the word bitch to make it much more onerous than it is. it becomes this symbol of righteous indignation. It certainly wasn’t directed at a singular person, and I wouldn’t call someone a bitch directly. Most people who try to take super offense to that term are just looking for something to be offended by so they can get their righteous indignation meter rising (See Sean Hannity). I was originally going to go with douchebag, but it just didn’t have the right ring to it.

This brings me to my third and final point and I will phrase it in the interrogative. First, it is worth teasing out some of the advice you give. You recommend that these high-achieving, (implicitly) cold and bitchy women put forth more positivity and make men feel good about themselves. And the way you put both of these in the same sentence almost conflates the two, as if they were one and the same. Yet, They are not (although they can be done simultaneously).

That went over my head. I’m gonna need one of my Ph.D friends to put that in laymen’s terms for me. Miko, where you at?

This is not, however, my point. What I wish to know is: Why should a woman need to make a man feel good about himself”? More to the point, Why should a woman who is unacquainted with a certain male individual need to make him feel good about himself? It seems to me that support is something available to give and receive once two people know a few things about each and actually have a relationship. And this does not have to be official as two people who are only distant acquaintances can still be supportive of each other.

Um, because she doesn’t want to grow old alone with a whole bunch of cats? To me, this seems like simple common sense. When I meet people, I try to make them feel good about our interaction, particularly if it’s someone I want to build a relationship with (friend, business, networking, whatever).You phrase it as though I expect the woman to throw rose petals at dude’s feet and clean the royal penis. I think it’s fairly clear that what I’m saying is simply that people respond positively to kindness and friendliness. This may be news to you, but you’re never going to get the chance to have the support in a coupling/partnership you talk about if people’s first impression of you is that you’re mean and unfriendly.

In the situation you address, where two people meet each other for the first time, you seem to suggest that the woman at the outset of the interaction make the man feel good about himself. This firmly supports an unequal balance of power as your post says nothing substantive of the male individual returning this gesture (which, is a bit much to ask during a first conversation). Yet, You insist on this point 3 times during your post.

By emphasizing this point, and implying that professional, educated women are negative, cold “bitches”, you perpetuate the power dynamics and backwards, chauvinist, sexist systems of interaction that so many women have worked diligently to reverse.

Cry me a river, why don’t you. Seriously? You not being disrespectful, entitled, or cold puts us on the path toward the revocation of women’s suffrage? As far as the male “returning the gesture,” it’s implicit that by him opening the conversation or approaching the woman, he’s being open and friendly with her. Granted, we all know this isn’t always the case, but for the sake of this conversation, we’re not talk about arm-grabbing guy in the club with the velour tracksuit and dress shoes.

No woman, or human being, for that matter, exists to make a male, “feel good about himself”. If we are partner’s/couple, and there is a relationship, this is perhaps both implied and expected.

In my opinion, a woman should scowl from time to time. My question to you is, why is it that if she scowls or if she is upset, she is a bitch? Could it be that she had a hard day at work? Could it be that her male boss made an inappropriate advance? In my opinion, entitlement (can) and should be used. It is a strategy for making it in a world where we were not meant to survive any way. (That goes for men of color too). And I do not advise taking that armor off. Because I cannot go into my place of work without SOMEONE looking at me as though I do not belong there. I cannot turn on the television without having a stereotype of my own body looking back at me. As I said before, we were not meant to survive. Excuse my platitudes, but life is full of ups and downs and no one can exude a relentless positivity at all times. And you know as well as I do that everyone tries to put on their best when they go out. And Trust, women as know what they want, and they will let go of the armor for the right guy!

Curses! By the Gods of Saturn, This Armor wont let the love in!

Curses! By the Gods of Saturn, This Armor won't let the love in!

By failing addressing to dysfunctional histories of relationship dynamics between men and women of color, (which would take into account a host of other social and economic factors) you miss many components of the difficulties faced by BOTH parties. Most importantly, FAILING (completely) to address the racisms and other obstacles that both men and women of color face on a daily basis as they rise is unacceptable.

Oy. This goes back to my point of why Africans and Carribean folk do better than us. They’re out there getting it while we constantly look for obstacles. “Not meant to survive?” Give me a break. That may be true for you, but I wasn’t meant to survive, I was meant to thrive. I play to win. I’m here to raise the champagne bottle on the podium. I grin when I fight. Are there going to be people in my way? Of course. We live in a capitalist society. We’re ALL competing for limited resources. My competitiors can and will use race, class, and every other trick in the book to get what we both want, but I would be a fool to let that paralyze me into inaction or hiding in my armor. The thing about armor is that when you have too much on, it gets so heavy that you can’t swing your sword. Entitlement as a strategy? Word? Let me know how that works out for you. As far as the “dysfunctional history of relationship dynamics between men and women of color,” how does that macro view affect your micro world? Are you seeking to repeat history or are you going to blaze a new, more productive trail?

I .Will. Not. Lose. Ever! Fuckers!

I .Will. Not. Lose. Ever! Fuckers!

While I applaud the spirit of your post, I believe that there are many women who would disagree with both your analysis of the situation (woman as bitch, ready to fight a way) and your recommendations.

Ph.D Bound


Thanks for your timely and interesting commentary. I disagree with you on about everything, but I think your voice is an important one in this discussion and I imagine many people share your view.

The Mother Hen Commercial

“I’m in my Cool Whip, inside Jell-O”

Hop up out that pretty muthafucka, like ‘Hello’

‘Hello’

‘Hello, ladies, how you doooooin’

‘That n**** crazy girl, don’t say nothing to him'”

Ladies, how many times has some variation of this happened to you? You’re in a social setting, having a conversation with a gentleman. The conversation might be going somewhere. It might not. It might be too early to tell. But there’s at least the glimmering spark of potential.

And then it is dashed as your homegirl swoops in and announces that “she needs you” or “She has to tell you something privately” or “We’re leaving.” The aforementioned gentleman stands there shell shocked, like a 17 year old private whose Hummer was just hit by an IED. Yes, this is a problem for us as men, but oftentimes, it’s an even bigger problem for you as women. Your friend is actively limiting the number of men you can meet and hopefully, have some kind of fulfilling relationship with. Why in the freak would someone who calls you their friend do this to you, you ask? Simple:

1. They think they’re protecting you. They automatically assume that this guy is beneath you and you don’t want to talk to him. He’s too short, too fat, or she just seented him talking to another girl. He looks broke. His shoes weren’t Ferragamo. Yes, these women are your own female version of Captain Save-A-Ho and they’ll stop at nothing to protect you from the unwanted advances of some sorry brother. Or any brother, for that matter.

2. They’re jealous of the attention. This may be conscious or subconscious. Women constantly measure their worth and value against other women’s. So when a guy is talking to a woman that’s not them, she immediately wonders, “what’s wrong with me.” This may not be a guy they’re even remotely interested in, but they want this guy to still be attracted to them nonetheless. Some women tke great pride and joy in shooting men down. So when Rayfus is off chatting you up instead of her, that green eyed monster comes out hard. Especially since she wore the cute dress that makes her butt look big. Don’t let her be the one who thinks she’s the cutest girl in your crew. She’s definitely not having you steal her shine. Her coming over and interfering is often an attempt to put the attention back on her just as much as it is her being angry that you’re getting some holleration.

3. She doesn’t want to lose you. Women know that once you get in a relationship, all those girls’ nights out and 7 hour bitchfests about men come to an end. You have a tight little crew that has sooooooo much fun together. If one of you actually gets a dude, there’ll be no more time to wallow in the misery of man-bashing and cathartic shopping for slutty outfits to attract new men. Misery loves company, and if this guy actually does lock you down, that’s one less miserable bitch to share the sadness with.

4. She’d rather be right than happy. A lot of women haven’t had good luc in relationships. Rather through their faults or the faults of the guys they’ve dated, they’ve become pretty jaded about the whole thing. So if you can’t get any satisfaction from relationships with men, what’s the next best thing? Getting satisfaction from being wanted and then rejecting the suitor. I have a theory that this is one of the reasons some black women seem especially mean when they reject a dude’s advances. It’s not just a “sorry, but I’m taken” or a polite let-down, it’s a firm attemt to demean and dismiss someone else who’s shown interest. As such, I have seen a couple women get slapped in the club after getting particularly out of pocket. I certainly don’t condone ever using violence against women, but in both of these situations, I kinda saw the escalation on the woman’s part leading to something bad happening pretty quickly. It’s sort of like a high school bully way to get some self-confidence, and as shown before, it can have some seriously bad consequences.

So how do you go about stopping this behavior. Here’s a few tips for both the ladies and the guys

Ladies:

1. Talk to her about it privately. You’re friends, you shouldn’t have to pussyfoot around an issue that’s bothering you. And it’s just as likely as not that your friend doesn’t realize she’s doing something you don’t like. In all ll truth, if she’s a savior, she probably thinks she’s doing you a favor. If she’s an attention whore, she might think that you’ll just sit idly by and let her bully your suitors away. It might not be a pretty conversation but if you’re legit friends, it should be said.

2. Set expectations before you go out. Let your friends know: You’re going out tonight to have a good time. You’re an adult and you can handle yourself around men without a whole lot of interference. If necessary, come up with an “extraction flare”: a signal that yes, you really do need to be saved from Gold tooth Ronriguez with the Orange linen outfit in winter. Cut the ambiguity out of it. If you shoot the flare, your friends are allowed to swoop in like Blackhawk helicopters, lay down some cover fire, and get you back to base. if no signal, they waive off.

3. Solo missions. If you have a friend who’s an unbashed hater, go out with them, but strike off on your own at some point. You really don’t need to be under them ho’s for every second you’re at a party/event. No one’s going to get assraped if you just take a stroll around the club by yourself for ten minutes or so to check out the scene. Agree to meet back at the bar at whatever time or just send them a text when you want to get the posse back together.

4. Stand up for yourself. Samuel L. Jackson is not only one of my favorite actors, but I believe him to be wise and sage. So if you’re getting good conversation from a guy and Hatey McHaterson comes swooping in, TELL THAT BITCH TO BE COOL! You don’t need to cause a scene or get into it with your friend, just a “hold on a second” or “give me a minute” id fine. If she’s pressing the issue, understand that she’s disrespecting you and your conversation. Be firm, look her in the eye, and repeat that she needs to wait a minute. You’re her friend, not her lackey, and as such there needs to be a mutual respect there which she should understand.

Fellas:

1. A good wingman Contrary to popular opinion, a good wingman is usually less the high-flying fancy Top Gun F-22 type.

Ol top gun ass wingman

Ol' top gun ass wingman

You need a dirty, down in the mud, A-10 Warthog kinda dude.:

Die, Haters, Die!

Die, Haters, Die!

Just a dude that will mix it up with anybody. It helps if he has either no pride or a bulletproof ego. He’ll take abuse and assault form the meanest, lowliest, trunk monkey and spit it right back to her. This gives you time to complete the mission while he keeps the hater insurgents at bay.

2. Tell that bitch to be cool. I wouldn’t necessarily use the phrase, “Bitch Be Cool,” but it’s perfectly alright to assert yourself and let hateful friend know that she’s interrupting YOUR conversation and you will not tolerate rudeness and disrespect. Women are amazingly compliant to men who demand respect in an authoratative but not belligerent manner. You’re not trying to start a fight in a public place, but it’s perfectly fine to request that you finish up your conversation, and then you all can go about your merry way.

3. Disqualify her. Sometimes you just have to let it go. And it’s perfectly fine to tell a woman that while you would be interested in her, you think her friends are boorish and disrespectfu and you’re not going to deal with that. And then bounce. The world is small. It’s not unlikely you’ll see this chick again and when you do, you’ll have set the expectation that you’re not gonna put up with any 8th grade bulshit.

Happy Macking!


It all started with a cheap date

It all started with a cheap date

As I mentioned before, one of my favorite blogs is DABA girls, because in general, there’s nowhere else on the web you can get hardcore gold-diggers coming out to lament their state. The fact that they take this so seriously just makes it such a great read. However, every now and then, they get off their high horse of narcissism and leechery to provide some real tidbits of advice. Like this one, on cheap dates. If you read the last post, you pretty much can tell my position on getting to a woman’s heart by “putting it in the bag.” So here’s a couple less taxing ways. Can’t promise it’ll get you Claudia Jordan (the light skined chick in the video) but can’t promise you it won’t either. This is pretty NY-centric, so please feel free to aff what’s hot in your town. These are actually great for dudes to know, so in the spirit of Bougie Black Macking Week, have at it!

We decided to talk about affordable dating tips because just a season ago, a first date could easily run over $300. It would begin with a three course dinner at one of New York’s nicest restaurants, after-dinner drinks as a swanky lounge, and flowers delivered to your office desk the next day (in all likelihood arranged by your date’s administrative assistant). Being taken on such an extravagant date in the current economic climate is not only unrealistic, it would cause unnecessary financial stress for everyone involved – we spent as much (if not more) on our outfits for these pre-recession dates.  This doesn’t mean your dating life should now be reduced to watching a movie while sitting in someone’s living room joint kitchen joint bedroom.  New York is full of spots that are light on the wallet and heavy on romance.  And remember, above all, women appreciate it when men put effort into planning a date.  So don’t think of these dates as being “affordable” but as being “thoughtful.”

Here are all of the tips since some didn’t make the minute thirty segment.

XO L

Tip #1: Go BYOB

-Alcohol can really run up your tab at a restaurant, which is why BYOB is the way to go. Our personal favorite is Ivo and Lulus, located on Broome and Varick. Everything on the menu ranges from $12-$15, the duck pate is unmatched, the corkage fee non-existent, and the ambiance is romantic.  We also highly recommend Big Wong on Mott street in Chinatown, namely for their lobster with pan-fried noodles and lack of florescent lighting. Average dinner: $30 at either restaurant + wine ($12) = $43

DC no corkage fee list

Atlanta no corkage fee list

Tip #2: Take her for a ride

-Take the Staten Island Ferry around the Statue of Liberty. The ride is free and the view breathtaking. Although we don’t recommend bringing food on the trip, least your date get sea sick, packing a picnic for your final destination is a nice touch.   While we recognize the difficulty in pulling off a picnic in a non-cheesy fashion, we’re confident that as long as you don’t pack a basket full of heart shaped quiches, you can pull it off with your manhood intact. ($12) Bottle of wine + ($3) baguette + ($8) brie = $23

Tip #3: Give Her Some Sugar

–  As a former pastry sous-chef at Le Cirque, the creator of the dessert truck, Jerome Chang, knows better than to come between a woman and a sweet tooth craving.  The dessert truck serves fabulous desserts – all under $5. Our favorites are the warm chocolate bread pudding and vanilla crème brulee. Locating the dessert truck is half of the fun, but if you need some help you can check out his website, www.desserttruck.com, for his whereabouts.  Often spotted near Washington Square Park, eating dessert by the fountain in the park will undoubtedly set the mood.  Warning: although you are likely to encounter live music by the fountain, don’t bank on it being violins.

Tip #4: Go on an trip

– If you have a whole day take the A train up to the Cloisters, which has a suggested donation of $20 per person.  Explore the museum and lounge around afterward in the garden.  Another great city escape is the funky and fun Mark Bar in Greenpoint, Brooklyn complete with pool, darts, and bingo on Wednesday nights. Beers are $3 and the menu includes pigs in a blanket for $5 and mac and cheese for $6.

Tip #5: Show Her a Secret Side of You

-Women love feeling privy to special information, hence our fondness for gossip and secrets. Introduce her to your favorite dive bar or neighborhood restaurant.  It’s not just a sandwich place, it’s your favorite sandwich at the deli your grandfather used to take your to.  We’re fond of New York mainstay Katz’s Deli, where you can sit at the When Harry Met Sally table and daydream with your date about how the two of you are going to recount the “how we met story” at your wedding.  Two Katz’s pastrami sandwiches ($15) + 2 root beer floats ($4) = $38

Tip #6

This is one of my own, but luxury hotels are great. You get all the ambience and service of a luxury hotel without having to pay an arm and a leg to stay there. Plus, you can spend hours just people watching, and since people who stay in hotes tend to be weird, it’s super fun. The Mandarin Oriental in DC has a live jazz singer on Saturdays and the drinks aren’t ridiculously priced. And they have a nice big private garden outside with benches where you can go make out when you’re all good and tipsy. The W New York is doing Summer Sundays where you can go and hang out in one of their Ridiculous Suites or whatever they call them) on Sunday if you’re on the list. Hopefully, the DJ’s better than last time I went. And any Ritz-Carlton will always do. Also, the Inter-Continental in Atlanta DOES NOT fuck around with their patron pours. I swear they poured half the bottle in my glass last time I was there.

Final Tip: Make a call

– If you really want to sweep her off her feet – call her the next day and tell her what a good time you had.  Note, we said call, not text or email!  Calling the next day instead of playing it cool and waiting 2 or 3 days will show her that you are confident.  Trust us, recession or no recession, women definitely respond to confidence. Phone call: $0

So the response was pretty much evenly divided. A few women actually admitted that some of their sisters (not them, of course) were so interested in the flashing lights that it would be to my benefit to be a bit ostentatious. It’s not that they necessarily think badly of these women. they’re not bad people, it’s just they’ve grown accustomed to certain things and like the trappings of success. They’re still educated, kind, do-right women. They’re just more attracted to 43mm Cartier Roadsters than they are to Swatches.

And who am I to really fault them for that. I’m a kind, educated do-right guy. And I’m more attracted to big butts and small waists than I am the converse. Doesn’t make me a bad guy. You could argue a little shallow, but hey, I like what I like.

A couple people blew me up for even making the claim that “some” women are into a little flash. They argued that those that would be swayed by cars, suits, botle service, etc, were just the kind of young and dumb status-chasers that I should be avoiding at all cost, no matter how cute and stout-butted they are.

So I decided to look back on my own general past and see what I could surmise from my own experience. So here it goes:

When I came out of college, I was making pretty much nothing. I started as a temp at a banking outfit and they liked me enough to hire me full time. it was a great entry=level position with a wonderful boss. And it paid terribly. I moved into my mom’s basement. Hot as hell in the summertime and cold as a witch’s titty in winter. But from a dating standpoint, I did just fine.

When I first moved to the city, I started dating an ex investment banker who worked for a major finance company. She was smart as the day is long, beautiful, and sarcastic. Just my type. She probably made double or triple what I made, had a luxury car, and a beautiful apartment. We fell apart because I think she was worried that I wasn’t as into her as she was into me. She was wrong, but nonetheless, it kiled the relationship.

After her, I dated a gorgeous slim chocolate older woman who had a child, and boobs the size of my head. It was exasperating taking her out because people (especially older white men, go figure) stared at her to no end. I came very close to fighting a couple guys over them leering at her. She was sweet and kind, picked up the bill at about the same rate I did, and was overall a great person. She could have done much better than me. She wanted to be exclusive, but I didn’t really see a future with someone in her mid 30’s with a child at that point.

I got a new job and briefly dated one of those wannabe urban model chicks who I met at a friend’s barbecue. The friend has postgrad degrees from MIT and Harvard, so I was a little surprised by the intellectual level of this one. Cute as all get-out but dumb as a brick. Not even the regular bricks, like the slow, chipped bricks that have to take the short bus to the construction site. But agan, she had tons of options much flashier than me. The modelish chick had a little Benz coupe her ex had bought her. I was driving a company Ford Taurus at this point. We went to the opening of some club once, and they were tripping on letting me in cause I had jeans on. She made a call to her “friend” to have him get us at the door. Her friend was a well known NFL wide receiver with a diamond chain that weighed about what I did. She came home with me that night. I found out later that he was the ex that bought her the car.

About the same time, I started dating another brighter woman, and pretty quickly stopped dealing with the urban model. She had her own place, was extremely pretty and had tons of options. She went to a great school and had a good job, was sweet, and while she never really reached for the bill, I got the sense that this was more her being a traditional woman than a hardcore leech. We dated exclusively although we didn’t have a title for 8 months or so. We’re still friends.

After we broke up, I started dating a woman who was a college dropout. But she had a great job managing her family’s contracting business, was drop dead gorgeous and unbelievably nice. I met her while she was bartending at cute little boutique hotel (for fun, apparently). It was close to Valentine’s day and a lot of her single friends were there getting hammered. I automatically assumed she was out of my league because of her looks, but she was so friendly and kind, I felt immediately at ease with her (I’ll be talking more about this in a future post for some of you women who complain that you “intimidate” men. You don’t. You just drive them off.) She insisted on paying for our first date because the restaurant was her choice. I almost had to fight her to pay the bill but she would have none of it. I later found out she was a Miss *insert African Country here* and was going to be participating in the Miss world pageant. She had also been in some national ad campaigns. She told me about this in the offhand manner someone would mention that they got third place in a gardening competition. She never acted like these things in any wat made her a better or more interesting person. About the time I met her, I bought a property and the night before my first showing, she and my mom worked in tandem buffing floors, scrubbing tiles, and nailing in drywall. We eventually broke up for one reason or another, but we both thought the other was such a great person that we would try to hook each other up with our friends. She now lives in an unbelievably huge condo with views of the water and is on TV. I saw her interviewing Hayden Panettiere (however you spell it) and definitely looked the better of the two.

Soon after, I was recruited to work for my company’s major competitor. And that’s when the big bucks started rolling in (Relatively speaking). I literally had more money than I knew what to do with (It’s not that it was that much money, it’s just that I’m pretty dimwitted). So I bought me a Swiss watch. Bought so much Armani I could go a week in Girogio without repeating outfits. And of course, I bought me a car. Not a flashy car per se. But a car I wanted. The fastest thing with four doors I could afford. And we went to the club. And I had it valeted so it was out front.

NOLA!

Did all this change my dating life?

NO, not really. Although when I pulled up anywhere, I definitely got more women checking me out than in the old Taurus. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I had gone and bought the luxury car I was thinking about buying back then. I test drove a benz, a couple beemers, and a Range, but they just didn’t meet all my needs.But I would have loved to do a regression analysis of how much more attention I would have gotten, and from who, if I had bought one of those.

So I dated a girl in med school who was very pretty but didn’t really have much of a butt. Sh was a friend of a friend and she wanted to be exclusive too and the Nassatall really didn’t do it for me. I chased around after some local celeb type chicks to no real avail. And I started dating another urban model type, a miss *insert state here* contestant. She was really sweet and always down for the cause. She was a little rough around the edges, which was one of the things I think that hampered the relationship. And maybe that was just me wanting too much. My female friends can be harsh and while they recognizd and respected her looks, I think they kinda looked down on her a little. We stopped seeing each other, and I started dating a girl working on her second post-grad degree. We clicked really well but I didn’t want to commit to her. As it happens, toward the tail end, I started dating the girl who would become my girlfriend for the next year, and pretty much the entire time I ws in school. She was conservative lawyer and seemingly upstanding. My friend said that lesbians didn’t approach her because she looked like a Republican. And she was a great girlfriend. Eventually, the distance drove us apart and we decided to part as friends, but I have nothing but great memories of her, and we still try to remain friends.

The moral of this very long and drawn out story is this;

Real women don’t really give a shit if you stunt or not. So there’s my answer.

So there’s a certain Facebook datin group with which I’m associated and has a chapter devoted to it in a new book that’s coming out this year (I will advise when it’s out) and I was looking back on the early days of the group and dug out this old gem. I think it’s time to reinstate Bougie Black Macking Week. So many people are off complaining that they can’t find a man/woman/midget to marry/date/sodomize that I think now’s the perfect time to go out and get it in. Here are some tips I posted for the ladies back in ’07 when the economy was good, but I think they’re just as relevant as they are today (Unfortunately, I still think my boot cut True Religions are too, but that’s just cause I can’t get with this skinny jean shit.) Enjoy and report back your successes:

Since clearly I hit a nerve with the last note, and it seems like there’s a genuine thirst among the bouges to seek out and find a suitable bougie partner, I am declaring the week beginning Friday August 21 and ending Labor Day Monday to be the 1st annual Black Bougie Macking Week. Come on, fellow paper-baggers! This is your chance to throw down that Principles of Tort Law, sign off your company’s VPN, and turn your Blackberry off! It’s macking time! With that said, I’m going to open up the floor for game tips to the opposite sex, since I’ve been told by a number of my female friends who are eligible, smart, and very attractive, that they don’t know how to attract a dude in a social setting, even though I know good dudes that would happily date them. I also know a couple chicks who will turn every dude down in the club and wind up crying on the way back to the car about how lonely they are. So here are a couple tips and tactics for YOU, ladies. And feel free to share what you got for our male audience. I’m sure they’ll appreciate it and so will the fembouge who ends up meeting ol’ boy

1. Smile.

Simplest game in the book. If you look fun and happy, dudes will holla. Most men, whether they admit it or not, fear rejection when they open up a conversation with a woman. Unless they got that good liquor courage in them, in which case, who gives a damn. But if you want sober dudes to talk to you, look like you want to get talked to. If a guy who might be worth your while is checking you out, acknowledge, and give him the green light. This doesn’t make you easy, or less of a challenge, it just means fewer people will pass you by. Crossed arms and an “I’d rather be somewhere with richer dudes than you” look is going to make dudes think “She’d rather be somehwere with richer dudes than me.”

2. Leave the hating ass friend at home.
Listen, I know y’all came together, y’all gonna leave together, ok. But does it help anyone to have her yanking you away from old boy in mid-conversation or beginning of conversation? I know, sometimes, she has to come because she’s your best frind, cousin, ride, etc., but at least give the hateful trollop a good talking to beforehand. I know, “let’s go, these niggas are wack” is a real convincing statement, but if you disagree, show some backbone and tell that monkey to relax.

3. Stop herding.

I mean really, how many dudes are going to fight through all eight of y’all clustered in the middle of the dance floor to talk to you? Statistically, at least 25% of your crew falls into the aformentioned category, so that means a dude has to take down at least two gatekeepers before he gets to you. Think Special Forces, not 81st Infantry type numbers. Two to four in one area is a cool little number to roll with. And stop being so scared to split up. The club aint that big and y’all have unlimited text messaging, you’ll be able to find her. You can find a quiet spot to chop it up with a new friend, and no one’s going to kidnap and sodomize your friend for the five minutes you’re gone.

4. Realize we don’t shotgun mack
Unlike those lucky dudes with do-rags and XXXXXL t-shirts in Adams Morgan, we don’t have the luxury of grabbing every single one of y’all’s arms with a well-timed “A bay bay.” Because of the clusterfuck, we have to be real selective or we end up crossing lines with some chick we had no idea was your (insert bougie association here). Thus, you have to be a little more cooperative if this is going to go anywhere. (See rule 1) Otherwise, it’ll just end up being polite conversation.

5. Leave work at work
Tyler Durden is not his khakis. You are not your job title. Hopefully, you have interests, activities, wants, and dreams that stretch further than getting a corner office with an Eames couch. Talk about that, not about how you went to xxxx and now do xxx and are planning to go to xxx so you can get an xxx degree which will allow you to move into xxx. And let’s all cut out the education/career one upmanship.

6. Flirt
It’s fun, try it!

Ladies, what do you want us guys to do better?

So another group I used to frequent used to post Sex Diaries, and they were really fun to read, not just for the content, but to figure out whether they were real or not, or what parts had been embellished or fudged. The idea originally came from NY Mag’s Sex Diaries. Since these were so popular, I’m going to start posting up some of them. These are not necessarily written by me, mind you. As a matter of fact, I’d love to hear yours. If you want to contribute, just send me an email, and I’ll post yours up (anonymously, of course). If there are any details which would give away that it was you, I’d suggest you change them, but that’s up to you. Anyway, here’s a good one from a while back. Enjoy!

Day 1:
8:30 PM

Enjoying post sex feeling. She gets on the computer and checks her email. I get some water. We have a nice little groove. She’s super busy, I’m super busy. We make sex dates usually about a week in advance, if not more. It’s good sex; I know what she likes, she knows what I like, there’s none of that staying over business or pretense that this is what it ain’t. Plus, she always asks me to come in her mouth, which is quite the bonus. She’s finished banging away at her email. I check my Myspage page. She wants to see my friends. We peruse my friends. She picks out the ones she thinks are cute. A couple are not so cute upon clicking on their actual pages. I’m embarrassed to have banged a couple of the not so cute ones but don’t mention it. She probably knows anyway. We discuss which ones might be into girls. I ex out a couple of potentials immediately. She zeroes in on Artsy Girl and asks if she’d be down. Pretty sure she would. I’d never actually had sex with her, but some heavy petting before. I took her on an actual date once, but didn’t see any reason to continue down that path. Regular Sex Girl gets phone call. Makes shush motion to me. Some “un-huh’s” and “OK’s” and a “see you soon.” She has a date tonight. I was wondering why the early call time. Apparently, he’s booked a limo and all kinds of fancy action to impress her. Nice. Hope she used my mouthwash if he goes in for the first date kiss. She gets dressed and heads out. We agree next Saturday works.

11:24 PM

Squeeze one off to some ‘Mike in Brazil’ porn. Lucky ass Mike. If it wasn’t for the third world AIDS rate, I’d consider heading down there for a sex tour one of these days. Those chicks are ridiculous.

12:47 AM

Sex girl calls. Date sucked- no limo, jazz place was wack, but guy was really nice. She’s not really into really nice. No first date kiss so I guess whether or not she used Listerine was irrelevant. Wants to come over for round 2. I make an excuse about having to go running with my co-workers in the morning. It’s a lie. I don’t run with them on the weekends. Shoulda called me before I got that second nut out. Feel bad for first date guy.

Day 2:

11:20 AM

In meeting. Boss lying to his boss about all the good work we’re doing. We’re not doing good work. We’re doing just enough to not get fired. Send dirty text to ex. She broke it off because I didn’t want to get more serious. She still gets drunk and nasty-texts me every once in a while. She’s game today. Very descriptive about what she wants me to stick and where. Great thing about smartphones in meetings- people think you’re emailing someone about something work-related, so dedicated. She SMS’s a picture of what appears to be her va-jay-jay. Angle screen away from any potential nosy coworkers. Picture of va-jay-jay lips not huge turn on without context. Tell her to send boob shots- they’re huge. Says she can’t because in office. Damn. Conference table hiding boner. Could be embarrassing when meeting ends. Think about boss’s boss naked. Lose wood quickly.

7:06 PM

At happy hour. Flirt with attractive light-skinned girl with short bob. Buy a round for her and her friends. Female bartender looks on and winks suggestively. Wink back. It’s pimpin’, pimpin’! Light Skinned Bob and her friend are heading to another spot. Ask her if she wants to get a drink sometime. Sorry, but she has a boyfriend. Mutter under my breath that she should give me my $18 back then. Should have gone for the less attractive, more desperate-looking friend. Bartender asks how it went. Lie, and tell her they we’re just friends. Close out, and leave bartender conspicuously large tip. Ask for her number. Says she lives with her boyfriend. It’s not pimpin’, pimpin. Consider asking for change for tip. Decide against.

10:25
Finish editing powerpoint. Enjoy Hennessy and Coke in plastic cup. Realize
I’m a stereotype. No one around to see, so doesn’t matter. Whack off to Exploited Black Teens compilation.

Day 3:
No news to report

Day 4:
3:58PM
Send text to Nasty Text Girl about getting together this weekend. Says she’s on her period. Make tentative but unlikely plans for next weekend.

Day 5:
8:47
Dinner with chick I met a few weeks ago. Surprised she remembers who I am. Is cuter than I remember. Very white teeth. Doesn’t take herself too seriously, which is attractive. She goes to the restroom. I check things out as she walks away. Potential donkey, but not sure if it’s just the skirt. Text Nasty Text Girl that I’ve been thinking about doing her. Date comes back. We finish eating. She offers to pay. Act like I wouldn’t dream of it, but slightly consider it. Still have to see about donkey before I get cheap and lazy. Drop date off at her car. Not sure whether to go in for kiss, so just squeeze extra tight. She still has hands around my ribs so go in for quick mouth kiss, no tongue. Tell her to text me when she gets home safe.

10:13 Text: Got home safe. Receive boobs picture from Nasty Text Girl. Spectacular. Grab the Jergens and get to work.

Day 6:
Go to club with the homey. For some reason, he’s bought a table. We entertain countless youngish, wanna-be fly types. Glad music is loud so can’t hear stupid conversation. They spend much time trying to make their jobs sound like they do something worthwhile. They don’t. Get bunch of numbers. Buy second bottle, forget which girl is which. Wonder why there’s a Tiffany in my phone but no number for her.

2:34 AM
Swerve home, drunk dialing the whole way. No luck. Text Date Girl. No response. Probably getting banged by some other dude. Consider jerking it but decide against.

Day 7:

11:15 AM

Headache. Check sent texts to see how bad I was. Pretty bad. Fortunately, didn’t say too much stupid to Date Girl. But a 2:49 AM text probably not the right impression to give after one date.

9:15 PM

Regular Sex Girl comes over. Asks if I have something to drink. We drink Vodka OJ’s. She says she invited Artsy Girl from Myspace over. This is unexpected. They text back and forth. We discuss what we’ll do if Artsy Girl just wants to do her and have me watch or some bullshit. We both decide that would be unacceptable.

My rationale: It’s my fucking house. Don’t know why she’s so crunk about it, but I appreciate the standupness. Artsy Girl gets here. We make her a drink. All three of us sit on the bed kind of awkwardly making idle small talk. Decide something needs to be done. Kiss Artsy Girl. Regular Sex Girl’s face lights up with glee. They start kissing. This. Is. Awesome.

Clothes start to come off. Artsy Girl massages Regular Sex Girl’s back while I suck her titties. She’s really turned on. Never looks this turned on when I do her. Not overly concerned. Go down on Regular Sex Girl. Artsy Girl straddles her face. We look at each other and she licks her lips. Dick hard as a rocket right now. She extends her hand. I give her low-five.

Switch positions. Regular Sex Girl lies on her back while Artsy Girl eats her. I push Artsy Girl’s ass up in the air and eat her out from the back. Pussy is saltier than regular sex girl’s, but quite pleasant. Super wet. I spit some of the saliva/pussy juice between her asscheeks and slide thumb in her ass. She likey. Start hitting it from the back. She’s eating out Regular Sex girl like a pig at a trough. Regular Sex Girl tries badly executed maneuver to switch into a 69. We almost fall over. All burst out laughing. Switch. Fuck Regular Sex girl missionary while Artsy girl plays with herself. She gets behind me and starts licking my ear. Really trying to hold off coming.

Think abut taxes, sheep, and boss’s boss. Not working, so get up, and lay on back . They take turns sucking my dick and alternately kissing each other. Kiss for too long and I point to my junk and let them know it requires their attention. Regular Sex Girl sucks while Artsy Girl tongues balls. I put hands behind my head and bask in glory of the moment. Doesn’t last long. I tell them to stick their tongues out. They make lewd faces and I come a gallon all over Artsy Chick’s extended tongue. Try to get some of the second squirt on Regular Girl’s tongue, but get it in her hair by mistake. She puts it in her mouth and keeps sucking until I’m done. I tell them to kiss. They oblige. I get up to grab another drink and a towel to wipe them off. They wipe off. Both are impressed with the volume and velocity of skeet. Good thing decided no to jerk it last night.

They start making out again. Getting wood again, so go back in. Artsy Girl straddles me cowgirl while Regular Sex Girl works her titties. Artsy Girl comes with dramatic jerking. Not sure how much performance, but hope the neighbors don’t hear. Or do hear. Claims pussy super sensitive so I awkwardly froggy style Regular Sex Girl so Artsy girl can lick her clit. Also tongues my balls every once in a while, which is pleasant. Lay Regular Sex Girl on her stomach and do her from the back. Artsy Girl bites her butt and sticks her tongue out. Take condom off and jerk off. She tries to catch it with her tongue but most just dribbles on Regular Sex Girl’s ass. She licks some off. Wonder if I can get third wood. No such luck.

I go in the kitchen and make eggs. Hear them still going at it. Loudly. Get camera. Take some shots, but they come out blurry. Probably for the best. I watch for a while eating my eggs. Semi third wood, but feel like I’ve done enough for the night. I give them omelet and we take some candids. They make me promise never to show anyone. I lie and tell them I won’t. Everyone starts getting dressed. Kiss Regular Sex Girl goodbye. Artsy Girl claims she’s jealous. I tell her to mouthwash it first. Long Three way kiss. Walk them out. Try to give knowing nod to my man at the front desk. He could give a shit.