*NOTE: I am not exaggerating this dialogue … ESPECIALLY his.*
Me: (Chuckle) You alright man?
Brian: Yea bae bae! Ya’ boy is good… Do you smell me baby?
(I sniff near him and smell the heavy Newport scent)
Brian: I smell like smoke… Ugh! (Disgusted look) I hate smelling like smoke. I hate smoking period. Real talk shawty.
Me: (Awkward) Yeeaa… I know right… (Looks out the car window)
Brian: Bae! I tell ya… that shit is the worst ya know? I can’t ever get down with that…. Ya’heard’me???
Me: Oh yea… I heard ya…
(Brian chuckles to himself… Short silent pause)
Brian: Baby?
Me: What’s up?
Brian: Do you smoke?
Me: Ummm… yea. I do actually.
Brian: You do? What you smoke? Weed or suttin? That’s cool though.
*Open minded? CHECK.*
Me: Nope… Not a weed smoker.
Brian: Oh… What you smoke then bae?
Me: I smoke cloves…
Brian: Cloves? What’s that? A lil’ girl cigarette or suttin’?
Me: (Chuckles) Ha! Naww…Not a “girl” cigarette. They’re black… it’s like a cigar kind of. They’re from Indonesia.
Brian: Ohhh… Ok… Cloves… Hmmm…
Me: Yep… Cloves…
(Awkward silence- that I’m sure lasted a whole 10 seconds... Try counting it. It’s a pretty awkward pause in a conversation.)
Brian: Damn baby, don’t you care about your life?
Me: Umm… Yea… Definitely care about my life.
Brian: I don’t know bae… That smoking shit ain’t good fa ya’ babygirl.
Me: Yea… I know… I ummm yea… I care. My life is kind of a big deal to me… I don’t plan on being a smoker for the rest of my life, but I enjoy it right now and I guess we all have our vices, ya know?
Brian: Yeaa… I guess.
*Health conscious? CHECK.*
*Stupid ass logic for approving weed but not smoking in general? CHECK.*
(The topic changes onto how I want to learn Spanish someday. Then it shifts to how people always assume he’s Dominican.)
Me: Oh my God! Meeee too… I don’t get it. When I worked at the W, my Dominican co-workers would walk up to me and start talking to me in Spanish.
Brian: (Laughs) Forreal?
Me: Yes! It was the weirdest thing ever.
Brian: Yea, I just look at em’ and nod my head like “Naw shawty… No hablo Espanol my nigga.” (Laughs at his own joke.)
Me: (Ignores corny joke and continues convo.) Well, ya’ know, I can actually see why people would think you’re Dominican.
Brian: Oh get outta here!
Me: No… No… Seriously. I can. I think it’s your features and your skin complexion. You got that whole Dominican baseball player thing going on.
Brian: Is that so?
Me: Yea man… I can TOTALLY see it.
Brian: Well, I can see it with you too.
Me: Ohh… Really?
Brian: Yeaa… Yea… I mean I would say it’s those lips of yours, your eyes, your features in general actually. Oh! And DEFINITELY that long ass hair of yours….
Brian: I’m curious though…
Me: About?
Brian: Baby, is that your hair?
Me: Nope! It’s a weave.
Brian: Ohhh… Ok… Well… I mean shit. That’s cool babygirl. You paid for it. So it’s your shit right? (Awkward chuckle)
Me: Yea. I mean… Sure… if you want to put it that way. It’s cool man. I don’t wear weave because I’m insecure about my natural hair. I love my natural hair. (Smug grin) It’s fly as shit. (Twiddles weave around index finger in a slow “crazy in the head” motion) THIS isn’t my shit… It’s just a weave.
Brian: (Uncomfortable) Yea… True.
*A real understanding of the black woman’s hair struggle? Half-CHECK.*
(So the convo is now officially awkward as hell but it shifts a little bit more. Not as great, but back to normal. Then he brings up us going on a date soon. He asks me about different spots in DC and if I’ve tried any of these spots. Then he begins describing his favorite place Vapiano.)
Brian: Bae! This food is amazing… you would love it. We HAVE to go. Like we HAVE to.
Me: (Giggle) Ok. Ok… I’m down.
Brian: You sure?
Me: Yea man. I’m sure. I’d love to go.
Brian: Cool… I’m going out of town this weekend, but when I get back. We going!
Me: Sounds perfect. Can’t wait.
Brian: Yea bae, I’d say let’s go now but I already ate dinner.
Me: Oh no worries… we can just go when you get back. Ahhh… I’m starving though. What did you have for dinner? (Laughs at this fat girl question. BTW I don’t give two shits about his dinner. I just want to imagine the food since I’m so hungry.)
Brian: Oh damn… I had that bomb dinner. I had some curry chicken… some rice and peas… some (I can’t remember and didn’t want to lie and make it up lol)… It was bomb. It was so good.
Me: Awww… that sounds amazing. (Laughs again at how hungry I am and how that gave me a stomach orgasm.)
Brian: Yea… I had my sister whip that up for me. Only chicken or fish for me ALWAYS.
Me: (Mockingly) Ohhh. Ok. Really?
(Brian doesn’t seem to catch the sarcasm and begins to rant.)
Brian: Yea BABY! Only chicken or fish. No pork. None of that! I don’t eat that pork shit… I can’t get down with that.
Brian: Ya’heard’me?
Me: Yep... I heard you. That’s cool though. I respect it.
Brian: Paige?
Me: Yes Brian…
Brian: Do you eat pork?
Me: (Sigh) Yea Brian… I eat pork.
So I sighed one more time and allowed the awkward moment to linger as long as it wanted to. He then asks where my car is, I tell him, and he drops me off at the Annex. Before I got out, we had our goodbye convo, which consisted of him telling me he was going out and would hit me up later that night. Let me just cut to the chase here and say I never heard from Brian again...
Now, some girls would have a fit after never receiving a “how’s your day?” call, wake up call, or text ever again. Me... I actually respected it. I respect a man who is honest about what he wants and chooses NOT to play games. Brian asked me a series of questions and I failed MISERABLY. After this failed hang out session, he decided he wasn’t interested in me and acted accordingly. I actually COMMEND this man on skipping the games and letting his actions show his lack of interest.
My thoughts on this subject matter though actually have nothing to do with him. What began to piss me off was MY thought process/actions. I found maybe 5 unforgivable grammatical errors in his texts daily, I was turned off by the way he spoke, and I HATED that weak ass Caribbean music he played in his car. I know you might say, “text spelling, jargin, and someone’s taste in music are NOT the same as a weave, smoking cloves, and eating pork.” I normally would agree, but I can’t help but think about what I want out of a man (MY own guilty qualifications.)
I want to be able to introduce a guy to my friends and family in Georgia without being slightly embarrassed. Spelling “their” as “there” is just unacceptable after the 3rd time and the 3rd grade, and well… a man with good taste in music is by far one of the sexiest qualities a man can have in my book.
The thing is… I got so caught up in people telling me how I should go about finding a "good" man. "You can't be too picky… You have to give guys a chance even if you don't like some things about them... and if you find some things that REALLY you don't like, you can change him.... you can mold him into the man that you want him to be."
My first issue is besides the obvious traits we should want (educated, caring, loyal, strong)... What makes a man "good?" or shit... What makes a woman "good?” Why can't I be picky? Have I lost that right since I am a 23 year old, single, black woman in 2010? Is it because I’m a woman? Is it because I’m a BLACK woman? Am I wrong for having enough confidence in myself to believe it is going to be okay, I am dope as shit, and will get chose?
Do any of us REALLY know who we are going to marry right now? (Ok! Some people may and for y’all that’s super cute :)… But why the pressure to change people? Why the pressure to settle? I think it's time to evaluate our thinking... Women will spend hours finding the right outfit, hairstyle, pack of weave (Yea, I said it!), shoes, or OPI color of the month... but when it comes to choosing a man who will have a place in our LIFE, apartment, car, BED, we shouldn't be picky?
I'm not saying we should have a long checklist of “Must-Haves,” but if there are some qualities that you just DO NOT want to settle on, then trust your gut, and don't be afraid to chunk up the deuces. The great Carrie Bradshaw once said, “Some people are settling down, some people are settling, and some people refuse to settle for anything less than butterflies.”
All in all, I refuse to settle. I want what I want and I’m cool with being patient to get until I get it. Let me be clear and say, Brian is some girl’s “good” man. I’m sure of it. I just prefer my butterflies with a side of bacon every now and then…
-Paige
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