The Internet can be a cruel and unusual abyss of half-cocked opinions and bargain basement analysis, especially when it comes to Black wom...
Check In or Check Out?
The summer sunshine awakens things from the dead. Last year’s fiasco with the dude Transformers was an end as far as I was concerned. Him thinking the dialogue in Transformers 2 was tight caused me to raise a brow & give him the “ninja please” side-eye. The time leading up to the opening previews was enough to have me seriously questioning if I was gon’ see bruh bruh again. It wasn’t looking good, & then he sealed it with that “tight dialogue” nonsense. Really, what movie was he looking at that was different from what I was seeing? Before I get too lost in recounting that day’s details, I’ll leave it at his time was limited & the sand was running out fast.
Fast forward to a few months back. Transformers called to check on me to make sure the school system hadn’t cut me like it had so many others, see if I was still making it to dance class…the basic check in type isht. I confirmed that I was still employed & that I had not been to dance class & that I was good. He asked after how I intended to spend my time once the school year ended & I told him briefly about the program I’m in. It wouldn’t be absurd for you to question why I’m talking to him at all after my level of disgust following the movie but prior to those lemony snickets (series of unfortunate events) we did have some intriguing & intelligent conversations. There was something that attracted me to him. A few more seconds of small talk passed & he said he’d check me out once the school year ended so we could catch up over a meal & I could tell him about what I was learning. That didn’t sound so bad, but I wasn't gon' remind him of it.
Saturday was D-day. I was occupied with hiding out in my apartment away from the 105 degree temps outside. Bananas Summer 2010. I used my shut in status to get some work done for the final week of this program & possibly get a slight jump on the coming school year. My phone rang. This time the movie was Salt. I was told earlier, when considering going to see it with an old acquaintance & his crew, that I should definitely check it out as long as it wasn’t on my dime. So many ironies here, obvious & not so. Transformer comes to pick me up & I climbed up into his SUV. The black big body truck, the leather seats, the 105 degree temps & his NON-working A/C made for a miserable trip that left him wet & me moist. Not in the ways adults like to be either. Annoyed.
It seems as though annoyance is my standard with him & I made a mental note of it. Again. We disagreed on the perfect place to sit in a movie theater & took our seats, going with the lady's (ME) suggestion. The movie was entertaining. I don’t really buy Angelina Jolie as an action chic but it’s what she’s been marketed as for the last few years. Some of the scenes were so unbelievably far fetched that I found myself actually making “alrighty then” gestures towards the screen. There was 1 I had to give it to her in, or the writers, that gave me a moment of female pride. Movie done, we went in search of vittles & decided on the safety of Thai. Perhaps you don’t recall but Chipotle is his favorite “restaurant.” Food snob that I am...I couldn't let that go down a second time. We sat down & somehow, after discussing just how deep is his Catholic devotion (I see y’all’s eyes rollin’ skyward if you know me) we got into how we interact with each other. I came clean about how deep my disgust has & been with him & he laughed. Good sense of humor. I roasted him & he laughed. The good thing was it opened up a good conversation about communication & the fact that our issue is definitely with communication. The problem is what the problem always is: when I don’t cut a dude off at the knees, machete his manhood (not something I’m into by the way), he doesn’t go away or it takes him too long to clear his locker. So what happened? He thanked me for my honesty, agreed with much of what I said & expressed an interest in seeing me again.
I don’t know what this is, but I know what it isn’t. If Transformers wanted to grab a pizza every now & then (though I haven’t eaten dairy in 5 years) & shoot the shit over a basketball game, I’m down. If he wanted to rack up some balls & crack ‘em with big sticks over Belgian beer, I’m down. If he wanted to check out a couple indie films & some stale popcorn, I’m all in. But the word “relationship” came up, discussing how difficult they can be but how they require everyone to participate through the hard times especially (his offering, not mine), & I feel as though what he may want is what I felt like he wanted a year ago. A chance.
Why do I feel so undecided? A friend of mine claims I get involved in these kinds of affairs for the entertainment. Could be I’m bored. I’on’t know. But the rationale in my mind is that something about him would make him an interesting friend, if only he would stay in his lane. He doesn’t drive very well, so I can’t really bank on that.
Watch me move.