Monthly Archives: August 2018


I started talking to M_OKC in the early fall of 2016. He was good looking, Dominican, in his early 30s and lived in the Bronx. We connected on fitness and the fact that we liked similar tv shows. He said he worked for Time Warner Cable (before it became Spectrum) and worked part time as a trainer at a gym. I was training for the marathon and he offered me tips on vitamins and recovery stretches. We agreed to meet one afternoon at the Starbucks on 96thand Lexington. I arrived a little late but he wasn’t there yet so I ordered me a cinnamon dolce latte. He sent me a text that he was running late and would arrive soon, so I waited. About 45 minutes later he arrived. He greeted me with a hug, went to the counter and ordered his drink then came back to sit with me.

The conversation was smooth and engaging. We cracked jokes and briefly discussed past relationships and upbringings. He got into fitness for health reasons and was eliminating red meat from his diet. I was just trying to not get any bigger and run faster. We talked about the current shows we were both watching Game of Thrones, Power, The Zoo, Criminal Minds etc. We talked for a few hours until he had to go home. In conclusion; he showed up, was engaging, I wasn’t bored out of my mind and he didn’t mention sex; so overall, I considered the date a success. He walked me back home (which was only 10 blocks) but still a very nice gesture. He stood on the side of traffic which was also a good sign. At my building we hugged and then parted ways. We spoke on the phone regularly until our next date. He suggested we get dinner and ice cream and I said that sounded like a plan.

I was under the assumption that we would meet downtown in Manhattan, find a place to eat, then get ice cream. The day of, he asked me to meet him on a train in the Bronx. I told him I didn’t know of any ice cream places in the Bronx. His response was Carvel. Now, I don’t want to come off as stuck up but I don’t eat Carvel, ever. Maybe if I’m at a party and there is an ice cream cake I’ll eat it but that’s a rare occasion. Silly me, I thought Pinkberry or Haagen-Daaz, but what did I know. I tried not to be a pest and decided to go along with this plan. He told me to meet him at 161ststreet, so naturally I got off of the train assuming that we would meet there then walk to dinner and ice cream. He tells me to get back on the train. (His exact words were: “I didn’t tell you to get off”) Fine- Whatever! I get back on the train we meet up and take it a few stops further into the Bronx. He asks if I’m hungry and suggests we get tacos. Anyone who knows me knows that I love Mexican food so I was all for it. We get off the train and walk to a Mexican restaurant. It wasn’t by any means a hole in the wall but it was not a place for a second date. It was more a restaurant where you go if you’re already a couple, not when you’re trying to establish a foundation. However, since I was familiar establishments of this caliber as I have one similar by me, I was content. I was hungry and I knew the food would be good so I didn’t complain.

On the walk there, I mentioned that I wanted a margarita. Once inside, I told him I wanted chips with guacamole, 2 al pastor (pork) tacos and a margarita, I then went to use the bathroom. When I came out, the lady had just walked away and I asked him about my drink. His response was less than enthusiastic. It was as if he had an attitude that I wanted a drink while I waited. He mentioned he had tequila in his place, at which point I said we’re not going to eat it here. His response; “Nah.” I could already tell where he thought this night was going to go. (Key word: thought) We walked up the hill and stopped at the corner store. He got a gallon of water and air freshener and went to pay with his card. The man at the counter said there was a minimum of $10 at which point he proceeded pick up some random items to make that total, not once asking if I wanted anything. When he goes to pay his card is declined. He pulls out another card, pays, and we leave the store. On the walk to his place he’s complaining that money should be on the card, and that he has to call the bank… blah blah blah.

When we get upstairs he takes me into his room which is pretty clean for a guy but nothing fantastic. He goes into the living-room and brings in the TV. To myself I’m thinking really. You work for TWC why don’t you have a TV they aren’t super expensive. He pulls out an unopened bottle of Patron and says see. You can have a drink here. I tell him I wanted a margarita not a drink and that I don’t drink liquor straight and since he had no juice I would just drink water. We sit on his bed to eat the food. He starts complaining about how small the guacamole is for the price. All the while I’m thinking “Broke ass-hole”.  When we’re done eating he plugs in his laptop to go on YouTube. Again, if you work for cable don’t you have a discount? How can someone be that cheap? He puts on a movie and we lay back and start watching. He starts rubbing on my arm and trying to get close; at this point I am not with any of this so I reciprocate nothing. As he’s rubbing my arm he asks me “How does that feel?” to which I respond, “Awkward”. He tried again to rest his arm across by body, a little under my breasts. I lift his hand and remove it from my body and place it on his side. We continue to watch the movie like two statues, I laugh periodically while he is silent. When the movie is over I say I have to go.

As I put my shoes on, he’s sits up but makes no movements to do the same. I tell him I don’t know where I am and that he has to walk me. With resistance he puts on his shoes and we walk downstairs. He walks me about a 2 blocks and leaves me with instructions to keep walking straight. We don’t say good-bye we just go our separate ways. That nice gentleman that walked me home when we first met was long gone.

I don’t like to count a man’s pockets, but why try and talk to a chick if you can’t, in the very least, afford to buy her simple shit; like coffee, a cocktail, etc. The fact that he didn’t offer to buy me a coffee at the Starbucks- I looked at him sideways, but didn’t hold offense- I let it slide. When he said Carvel for ice cream- I tried to get of my bougie hoarse and be open. When he got an attitude about me wanting a margarita- I was taken aback. When he didn’t offer me anything in the store to make the $10-I started to realize. When his card got declined for $10- I chuckled inside. When he pulled the tv from the living room into his room- It started becoming clear to me. When he used his laptop for connection- My mind was made up. When he bitched about the food- I was over it all. But, when he tried to have sex after all the preceding incidents of that evening- That’s when I was all the way DONE.

This wasn’t the first time I met a broke ass-hole, and it wouldn’t be the last.



I met Justin via Tinder last summer. When his message first came across my phone I wasn’t sure that I was interested. I was going through one of my on again, off again phases. Sometimes I was all in, and others I was just killing time, so I was reluctant to say the least. We began to exchange messages; he sent me a more flattering picture. In the picture he sent he was sitting on a chair, ankle up and crossed over his thigh and a beer in his hand. He wore a fun colored plaid shirt, khaki slacks, and brown shoes. I was particularly fond of his curly reddish-blonde hair and I liked his style. He looked interesting so I decided to give him a chance.

I found out he lived in Brooklyn, and worked in finance, not far from where my office was located. We bonded over movies, fitness, and similar tastes in TV shows. Our conversations always remained light; we spoke whenever we both had time and there was no pressure. A few weeks had passed and the conversation began to progress. We started talking about past relationships, current dating situation, etc. By this time I had been single for two year; he said he was single for a little under a year. Our talks had begun to take a sexual turn. This was shortly after my experience with the gherkin and since I did not care to relive that type of situation again; I asked him for a dick-pic. He wasn’t, by any means, huge but he could definitely satisfy. As our communication became more consistent we arranged a meet up.

We agreed to meet at a local bar, equidistant from both of our offices, and grab a drink. I got to the bar a little early and ordered a margarita; he came in shortly after me. He went downstairs and sent me a message to meet him. I left my drink at the bar and walked to him. We immediately started kissing. His hands were all over my body. I had no clue what I was doing, and yet, I did not stop it. His kisses made me weak in the knees, his hands roaming all over my body sent waves all over me. We pushed into the bathroom and continued our tirades. We went into the last stall, and he sat down on the seat, he lifted up my dress, turned me around and started kissing my ass. The moistness from his tongue mixed with the cold air from the bathroom AC made me even wetter. He removed my thong, smelled them, and placed them in his pocket. He delivered a combination of nibbles, licks, and bites to my ass. I was bent over and his face was buried in my ass and delivering to me never before experienced pleasures. It was my first time receiving orally delivered anal pleasure. I was used to receiving vaginal oral and occasionally a finger inserted in my ass but this was unfamiliar and erotic territory. I was in heaven. This went on for about 10 minutes then he got a call that he had to go back to his office. He turned me back around to face him, buried his face in my vagina and delivered a few warm kisses. We kissed as he pulled my dress back down and we made sure the coast was clear. He left first then I followed shortly after. He was waiting for me outside the bar; we exchanged a few more kisses then walked back to our offices.

He called me when he got home in the evening. We relived the bathroom details and I asked him about my thong. He told me that before he left work he went into the bathroom to satisfy his urges. I had to ask him what his thing was about underwear and he said it was the pheromones and that my scent aroused him.  As our talks continued he became obsessed with the idea of collecting my underwear. I mentioned that I liked to take hot yoga and he asked to meet me after a class one time so he could get a high (his words- not mine), but our schedules constantly conflicted.

After a few weeks, we tried to arrange for a date after work, that would end at his place; which he again had to cancel. His family, from the south, came up to New York to get away from the hurricanes. A few weeks past, and I went on vacation. When I got back he was on a whole different channel. He told me he signed us up as a couple and wanted to find other couples. At first, the idea didn’t seem too bad (by this time I was in my explorative phase). I told him once we became more acquainted I wouldn’t mind exploring. However, I eventually got extremely annoyed with the idea of it all. The issue being, that we had not actually had sex yet but he was eager to bring in new people. He wanted to arrange another date, after work, and to go to a hotel. This had always been a red flag for me. I didn’t understand why, if a man had an apartment, would he choose to pay for a hotel? I called him out on this multiple times. By this time his family had travelled back down south so his apartment would have been available. I came to the conclusion that he was most likely in a relationship and wanted to explore his sexual desires with me. He denied it on multiple occasions but I refused to believe him. We ended our ordeal.

I never got my thong back. I really liked them too.  

What Lies Beneath


I told myself; when I decided to start this blog that I would write my posts based on prior experiences. I feel that I have done my best to remain true that rule; however, every so often I am forced into dealing with a situation that must be shared. This is one of those times. On previous postings I did not use the subject’s name- I will not do so in this post as this person deserves no anonymity.

I had matched with Kev (a white man), through Tinder. We spoke casually for what was probably a week and we seemed to have a lot in common. When I say a lot- I mean A LOT. We liked the same food, the same TV shows; we spoke about comic-con and he joked about going with me. We discovered that we lived near each other, just 10 minutes away. I was leaving for my Disney vacation on Wednesday morning and he wanted to meet up Tuesday night. We spoke on the phone while I was at work on Tuesday and he said he would give me a call at 7pm to confirm our plans to meet later, at 9:30pm. When I got home from work I decided to wind down. I waited for his call, but it didn’t come; I just chucked it up to another ghosting. I was heading to the gym when he gave me a call at 8:30pm. He was ready to meet, and I told him I was already on my way to the gym but I could meet him when I was done in 45 minutes. At the same time I ran into friends I had not seen in a while so I told him I’d call him when I was done so we could meet. I got to the gym, did my workout, and texted him at 9:20pm.

Me: Hey, so I just finished. I’m going home to freshen up then I’ll walk to you. I can meet you on your street then we can walk south a bit.

Him: No sorry going straight to the bar on 85th

Me: What?

Him: What part of that is confusing? I was going to meet you at Supply House on 85ht & 3rd. But never mind my phone is dying and I dont feel like waiting until ten anyway. We had originally said 9:30. We can meet when you get back.

Me: Noted.

Him: Yea I mentioned that on the phone but you were distracted then hung up on me. Have fun on your trip.

Me: You also said you was going to get back to me around 7 and you didn’t until 8:30. So me squeezing in a workout isn’t exactly my fault. If we met at 9:30 we’d still be out beyond 10 so I’m not fully understanding the cancellation. But if you’re tired and not in the mood I have no choice but to respect that. Have a good night and I hope we can meet when I get back.

**I WAS GONE FOR 11 DAYS: I did not hear from him the entire trip so I was not expecting to hear from him once I got back, which was on Sunday night. So, imagine my surprise when he messages me at work on Monday.

Him: Are you back from vacation yet?

Being the bigger person and acknowledging that we did have a lot in common I put my initial reservations to the side. Men get antsy and annoyed when your world does not revolve around them, so I assumed he was emitting the same behavior.

He asked me how my trip was, and asked me what did. Besides the delayed flight back because of the weather, the trip was amazing. We picked up the conversation and all seemed to be going well until this happened.

**The below dialogue is the exact exchange between Kev and I. I did not edit or enhance.**

Him: So hey would you potentially be open to being just friends? Running partners specifically?

Me: I have no preconceived notions when it comes to men. So even though our paths crossed on a dating app; at the end of the day if being friends is more suitable I’m totally fine with that.

Him: Lol um ok then.

Me: Lol- what was you expecting? Did you meet a female while I was away that more tickles your fancy?

Him: Just saying a simple “ok” would have sufficed. And what was you? Don’t ever speak ebonics to me, even if just friends.

Me: What were* you (easy mistype). But I’ll remove the option of friends. I’m not a fan of the way in which you choose to talk to me. So from this moment forward we never have to communicate ever again. Have a nice life!


Him: “what was you” isnt a typo you fucking retard. It’s your niggerness coming out. Deuces! You were the jackass who were rude enough to try to postpone our date a few weeks ago back by a full hour. You think I really would have given you a chance after that? You’re dumber than shit apparently. Run along now.

Yes. I will give you a second to pick your jaw up off of the floor. I was extremely shocked at the words he used against me. I have dealt with disrespectful men in my past so his tone, although completely unacceptable, was not new to me. What really got under my skin was the use or race.

His decision to bring racial slurs into the argument (if you can even call it that) was completely unwarranted. I was in shock and didn’t quite know how to react, so I sent the screenshots to my friends and they too were shocked. In previous, similar situations, I would vent about it to family and friends but I took it a step further. I posted the conversation on Reddit, Instagram, and Facebook and the consensus was overall the same- to expose him. I will discuss how I choose to handle him on a later post; but for the moment I have to address the issue that seemed to radiate from my friends comments on the post.

They pose the idea that they (meaning all white people) feel that way, deep down. I can honestly say that I have never been on the receiving end of racial slurs (dating or not) in my life- I have been that lucky. I also have worked with white people majority of my life, so I know they don’t all think like that. I have met enough nice white men in my years that truly love black women; so I know that the swirl is real.

What bugs me about the situation was, had this situation never happen, I would have had no idea of the dark thoughts that plagued his mind. I mean; why would you reach out to me (a black woman) if those thoughts were roaming around in your brain, ready to be fired at will?

It really made me take a moment and consider adjusting my vetting process when it comes to dating men outside of my race. It also made me hyper aware of “white-privilege-heartbreak”.

He was not mad that I was not ready when he wanted me to be. He was mad that I (a black woman) was not ready when he wanted me to be. He was mad that I didn’t drop what I was doing and run to him.

He was not mad that I was ok with being just friends. What he wanted was for me (a black woman) to be sad and beg for him to want to date me. And when I was ok with just being friends his ego was further hurt.

And then came the last straw. When I took all communication off of the table, it was as if I put black face on him and made him top billing on the minstrel show. That was when he lost his entire white mind.

And at the core of it all, him bringing race into the conversation proved that it was not the rejection alone that was the issue; it was the fact that the rejection came from me (a black woman). And, because he was experiencing white-privilege-heartbreak he decided to fly his true flag.

I refuse to believe that thought like this linger below the surface of every non-black person. I still continue to believe that true love is out there for me. I just hope that I will be wiser the next time.