Help Desk 1

**This blog could be considered at the expense of someone who I DO think is cool, just not cool FOR ME. It is not intended to offend, just to tell the truth how I experienced it and seek guidance. Proceed.**


The last date I went on was this summer. It was a last ditch effort with a dude who I once thought I dug. Without trying to put all of dude’s info on blast, I met him in at a place I wouldn’t normally expect to find a man’s man, happy to discover he was just that. I watched him for a long time, finding him attractive all the while, and then softened my stance enough for him to know it was OK to speak. And he did. We had a meal somewhere I’d never go on my own and had interesting enough conversation to feel alright with all that “call me later” business that followed. We visited each other’s spots a few times and hung out some.

Some of the things he said and did, prior to the date, were red flags but I wasn’t sure if I was being overly sensitive ‘cause it’s been a long time since I had to navigate this territory. So...I ignored my initial instincts--WARNING!! ABORT!!--and allowed myself a little more room to perhaps have my perspective adjusted. Basically, I was trying to give dude the benefit of the doubt. Those that knew of his existence were rooting for “the boyfriend” that I had yet to claim or be claimed by. Years ago Oprah said “doubt means don’t.” Like a stubborn child dead set on burning her fingers on the stove, I proceeded to touch the flame.

Now, don’t get it twisted. Dude is a nice guy. He’s ambitious and got his own thangs happening. I like what he’s putting down, but our personalities didn’t really mesh. Some R&B group I used to love sang, “If it don’t fit, don’t force it.” They ain’t never lied. Trying to figure this “relationship” out was like trying to get all 6 sides of the Rubix Cube done the first go-round: damn near impossible. I think he’s probably the type of dude I could chill with as a friend, but we haven’t explored that space. See, I wasn’t trying to just add him and stir. I was trying to take my time and see what he was about. But every now and then he’d make a comment to let me know that I was being auditioned for the role of wifey. Honestly, I didn’t recall sending in my 8x10 glossies, didn’t even know the call was out. Like I said before, attractive doesn’t = attraction so I was clear that “WE” might not be what’s up in the end.

Anyway...the date came, and just getting to it was enough to make me shrug my shoulders and say “FUGGIT!” But we were already out and I’m not no punk or no quitter. If I could make it through the date without actually pulling my arm back on him, it would have been a success.

Transformers 2. Saw the first and enjoyed it. It was fun. It was loud. It was toys and cartoons of my childhood come to life in a major way. Transformers 2: a colossal waste of time following a maddening journey. Transformers 2: a disrespectful-ass, racist and sexist, stereotypical waste of money and time that insulted my intelligence. Guess what? He thought it was better than the 1st. Him being college educated, a smart businessman, well-read entrepreneur and artist flew right out of my coupe’s window and was replaced by the THICK air of disgust. I couldn’t get him home fast enough.

Needless to say, there have been NO dates with him since then. At times when I receive a friendly text from him, I wonder again if I jumped the gun and counted out a good dude? Then I remember the sandpaper-like feeling of our personalities rubbing wrong against each other and feel [mostly] like I did the right thing. I feel bad [sometimes]. And I wonder...did I overreact?

Asking YOUR opinion.

Watch me move.

Note: If you read this & recognize yourself AND feel you’re owed an apology for how you’ve been depicted here, call me. If not, I’ll assume you didn’t read this &/or it ain’t necessary.