Hey Mr. DJ

Ok, so the dating has slowed down a bit. I’m in ATL making quality television people. I haven’t had time to dedicate to the BDC. Although I have met a few nice guys…sucky guys, cute guys, not so cute guys, fat guys, short guys, tall guys, etc, etc.

So the latest guy is a DJ. We’ll call him “Hey Mr. DJ”. He’s really nice. Physically, so not my type…his hairline looks to be making a mad dash to the back of his neck and his teeth seem to be in a heated wrestling match…but he’s really nice…did I say that already? It’s the music that he plays that I’m OH so attracted to…is that weird? He just knows what to play. When he’s DJing, I never have to worry about hearing Soulja Boy or some ignorant sh!t like that. So that’s where I first noticed him, behind the DJ booth…he seemed cuter behind the booth…maybe I was blinded by the music.

AnnneeeeWho, said DJ texted me last week with a lunch offer…cool. He offered to take me to Eisteins out here in the A…now I’ve been away from ATL for a long time so I’m unaware that he means Einsteins a cute little restaurant in Midtown…I think he means Einsteins Bagels (equivalent to Noah’s Bagels in LA). So naturally im like WTF…but I roll with it anyway. He comes to the office to meet me and we begin to walk. Walk? This is not New York City. I am in 4” Pradas, clearly not prepared to walk to anybody’s anything…whatever. Once again, I roll with it. I ask him what made him have a random taste for bagels and he thought I had lost my mind. We laugh at the confusion and walk 3 blocks south a 2 blocks east to Einsteins. As my feet cried for relief, I noticed that we were surrounded by an odd number of homosexuals…our host was a Tranny that clearly gets a discount at MAC Cosmetics, our waitress looked like her Harley Davidson was waiting out back, and all the other patrons were muscle shirt wearing black men and dick & ball jeans wearing white men, and then there was the obvious rainbow flag that waved proudly in the wind at the corner of the patio… “Eat here often?” I asked. He just cracked up, “We’re in Midtown Atlanta, what can I say”. Boy you better say that you’re not a regular at this joint or else me & my Pradas are about to hightail it back to 2 blocks west and 3 blocks north!

We continued our lunch and the conversation was cool; the whole “getting to know you” stuff. Everything was going well but we were suddenly interrupted by his suffrage of postnasal drip. Ok. Now I’m definitely not one to talk ish during pollen season but please get that. OMG, please use your napkin next time and not your sleeve…whatever, we’ve all had to “sleeve it” once or twice. Ok wait, one thing we will not do is snort the snot back up your nose at the table. “CHECK PLEASE!” We walk back to my office and part ways.

Next Day…

Hey Mr. DJ, gives me a jingle (phrase meaning telephone call; popularized by my Grandma) and asks me if I want to accompany he & a friend to the movies. I stumble for a sec trying to find an excuse not to go (for no reason in particular) and realize that I have been laying around the house all day in my drawls so I might as well roll. “What are we gonna see?” Iron Man…hmmmm…this is clearly NOT my kinda movie. No seriously, I know everyone and their Comic-Con homies were dying to see this but I had no idea who was in it and what it was really about (besides the obvious). Whatevs!
So I get to the box office and Hey Mr. DJ has already purchased my ticket and he’s standing there with two beautiful girls speaking Dutch. Hmmm…Interesting…He introduces me to the beauties that were visiting from the Netherlands and we all stroll inside. Hey Mr. DJ, clearly looking like “The Man”, gives money for snacks to his Dutch speaking homegirls and he & I walk into the theater. As the picture plays, one girl has fallen asleep, the girl next to me complains about the movie to me in Dutch so who knows WTF she was saying, I’m bored and rolling my eyes at the radomness of the movie yet impressed how there was an underlying message and the fact that Gwyneth Paltrow was able to run away from the villain in 4.5” Louboutins, and “Hey Mr. DJ” is jumping at all the suspenseful parts. Really are you jumping? Are you scared? Clearly you are not the person to go see a Thriller with Jumpy McJumpster! Im annoyed!

The movie ends and Hey Mr. DJ walks out like he had just witnessed the greatest movie of all times, the ESL chicks make a mad dash to the parking lot with a half hearted goodbye, and I tell Hey Mr DJ that he clearly owes me a trip to see the girliest of all girly movies, whenever it hits theaters.

All in all, Hey Mr. Dj is a great guy. I will definitely continue to hang with him…but just as friends. So I’m still dating…

NEXT PLEASE!