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!
Monday, May 5, 2008
Friday, April 11, 2008
The Black Girl Dressing Room Blues….
In Case you missed it...
This is a Commercial Break from my dating woes...
Enjoy!
The Black Girl Dressing Room Blues….
So I go to this denim sale out here in the ‘A’ a couple days ago. I was too excited…why am I excited? I have no clue. Because clearly alls I'm gonna do is go there and spend too much money on jeans that I don’t really need. I’m always looking for that perfect pair of jeans. The ones that hug your ass just right, but you can still breath in…the pair that you can wear flip flops, red bottoms, or flats with; the pair of jeans that men appreciate on you…WHY IS THAT PAIR OF JEANS SO DAMN HARD TO FIND?!?!?
Its cause I'm black!
LOL
SERIOUSLY THOUGH
Let me tell you about the Black Girl Dressing Room Blues! Ok, now I’m a size 4…I may not be a size 4 in the hips but I am in the waist. Been this size for like the last 10 years…here’s the problem…MY ASS & HIPS HAVE NOT BEEN THE SAME SIZE FOR THE LAST 10YEARS!!! Ok, that’s all fine & dandy. If I were to buy jeans my true hip size I would look ridiculous. All my fabulousity would be right out the door. So, I have to do the jeans squeeze. I put my jeans on like I put on stockings. My jeans are always too small in the ass and waaaay too big in the waist.
So anywho, while I'm at the denim sale I’m trying on sizes 25 – 28. Now clearly I couldn’t get the 25’s up past my ankles so I don’t know why I played myself (I aint been working out that much!). Some 26’s were too small, some were too big. Some of the 27’s fit cool and some were too big. WTF? Now I’m watching the white girls try on the 25’s and they’re good. Then I see the Asian girls trying on 24’s and they’re all good. But I look around this make shift dressing room and all the black girls are in there struggling. I mean some are laying down on the floor, one girl had her friend try to button the pants for her, and another girl (bless her heart) clearly needed to be at Ashley Stewart (that’s not a dis, its a fact)…the true fact is, there does not seem to be any high fashion jeans made for the Mocha Girls! I literally had to walk over to “Ashley Stewart” and tell her to stop. Her fake ass friend wasn’t gonna say anything (clearly one of those girls that wants to keep her friends looking wack to boost herself up…ugh…hate those hoes)
Anyway…
I simply told “Ashley”, “those aren’t the jeans for you!” I told her that she should shy away from Low Rise and the True Religion brand all together. “They didn’t make those jeans for us girl”. I had to get my “sista-girl” tone on, you know, to let her know that I come in peace.
Anyway, her hating friend told her she looked good and that I didn’t know what I was talking about. And then she gave me the “move skinny bitch” look. So I backed up. I aint got no time to be fighting fat girls in the dressing room. I was still squeezing into my own damn jeans….
All in all,
What can a Mocha girl do to get the perfect pair of jeans for my body type? Clearly I'm not about to do the Apple Bottoms, or anything else along that line…. not that I don’t support the “urban” brands, but I feel like I'm waaaaay to grown to have damn apple on my ass.
That’s all…
Another Dating Blog will be posted soon!
This is a Commercial Break from my dating woes...
Enjoy!
The Black Girl Dressing Room Blues….
So I go to this denim sale out here in the ‘A’ a couple days ago. I was too excited…why am I excited? I have no clue. Because clearly alls I'm gonna do is go there and spend too much money on jeans that I don’t really need. I’m always looking for that perfect pair of jeans. The ones that hug your ass just right, but you can still breath in…the pair that you can wear flip flops, red bottoms, or flats with; the pair of jeans that men appreciate on you…WHY IS THAT PAIR OF JEANS SO DAMN HARD TO FIND?!?!?
Its cause I'm black!
LOL
SERIOUSLY THOUGH
Let me tell you about the Black Girl Dressing Room Blues! Ok, now I’m a size 4…I may not be a size 4 in the hips but I am in the waist. Been this size for like the last 10 years…here’s the problem…MY ASS & HIPS HAVE NOT BEEN THE SAME SIZE FOR THE LAST 10YEARS!!! Ok, that’s all fine & dandy. If I were to buy jeans my true hip size I would look ridiculous. All my fabulousity would be right out the door. So, I have to do the jeans squeeze. I put my jeans on like I put on stockings. My jeans are always too small in the ass and waaaay too big in the waist.
So anywho, while I'm at the denim sale I’m trying on sizes 25 – 28. Now clearly I couldn’t get the 25’s up past my ankles so I don’t know why I played myself (I aint been working out that much!). Some 26’s were too small, some were too big. Some of the 27’s fit cool and some were too big. WTF? Now I’m watching the white girls try on the 25’s and they’re good. Then I see the Asian girls trying on 24’s and they’re all good. But I look around this make shift dressing room and all the black girls are in there struggling. I mean some are laying down on the floor, one girl had her friend try to button the pants for her, and another girl (bless her heart) clearly needed to be at Ashley Stewart (that’s not a dis, its a fact)…the true fact is, there does not seem to be any high fashion jeans made for the Mocha Girls! I literally had to walk over to “Ashley Stewart” and tell her to stop. Her fake ass friend wasn’t gonna say anything (clearly one of those girls that wants to keep her friends looking wack to boost herself up…ugh…hate those hoes)
Anyway…
I simply told “Ashley”, “those aren’t the jeans for you!” I told her that she should shy away from Low Rise and the True Religion brand all together. “They didn’t make those jeans for us girl”. I had to get my “sista-girl” tone on, you know, to let her know that I come in peace.
Anyway, her hating friend told her she looked good and that I didn’t know what I was talking about. And then she gave me the “move skinny bitch” look. So I backed up. I aint got no time to be fighting fat girls in the dressing room. I was still squeezing into my own damn jeans….
All in all,
What can a Mocha girl do to get the perfect pair of jeans for my body type? Clearly I'm not about to do the Apple Bottoms, or anything else along that line…. not that I don’t support the “urban” brands, but I feel like I'm waaaaay to grown to have damn apple on my ass.
That’s all…
Another Dating Blog will be posted soon!
Monday, February 25, 2008
ADVENTURES IN DATING
So, obviously I'm “regular” dating as well…meaning I'm not just waiting around for these wack ass blind dates that ya’ll are sending me on. I meet guys all the time, and I don’t have a problem giving guys a fair shot. But most times guys just don’t know what to say. Below are the top three ignorant ass statements that I’ve received recently.
1. I need to domesticate you (Um…)
2. You so fine, you look just like Omarion (as in Omarion from B2K? The boy?!?!?)
3. You’re face is perfect. I’d f@%k you from the front (I’m sure there was a compliment in there somewhere)
…So with all that said let me tell about the two latest dudes.
The first is a guy that I was crushing on EXTRA hard from my church. Most of you have heard me mention him because I swear it doesn’t get much finer than this man. Anywho, we’ll call this gent Church Boy. Now I was peeping Church Boy e’ry Sunday in church for the last couple of months and I never made a move…its church. I can’t give him “the look” at altar call…I am trying to get to heaven people!
Well he finally approached me. I swear we were making goo goo eyes at each other during praise & worship. Anyway, he walked up to me as I was exiting church and kept it very general. I explained to him that I was on my way to the airport to hop on a flight to ATL for the next 6 months. DAYUM!! Why would he approach me on the day I'm leaving…UGH…he gave me his number and after two full days I got up the nerve to call. We talked on the phone for three hours about absolutely nothing but absolutely everything. I found out that he is 40 (although he looks 30) and that he’s from St. Louis (shout out to Burgess & Hudlin). I told him all about me and everything seemed cool. Now there were a couple of times where he got a little snippy on the phone but I didn’t think anything of it. I’m just thinking, ok he’s pretty gangsta for no reason.
He calls me the next day and starts to tell me lame jokes that I don’t get and when I didn’t laugh he threatened to put his “foot up my mama’s ass”. I SAID SAY WHAT? Up who’s mama’s ass? Not my mama! Not D. Mills! Is this like the second part of the joke that I don’t understand? Who says that? Then he starts telling me some other random stuff that I couldn’t understand because his cheap ass Boost Mobile phone kept cutting out (where you at!). The man starts yelling at me and checking me because I couldn’t hear him. “Sweetie, you need to listen intently to what I’m saying”. Did this ni99a just call me sweetie in the ULTIMATE condescending tone?! OH HELL NO.
I ended that phone conversation with the quickness never to return.
SO WHO’S NEXT?
Picture it; circa 2005 I have a weeklong affair with a fine specimen of a man that I meet through a friend in NY and just happen to be cohabitating with (that’s too long of a back story to go into). Anywho, well I haven’t seen said specimen in almost three years when he calls me out of the blue a month ago. We’ll refer to this specimen as Breeze (because he thinks he’s so cool). Anyway, Breeze has some sort of an advantage over the rest of these dudes. We already know each other very well, we had to share the same living space for a sec, and its something about him that just makes me melt…he knows this…its no secret. Anyway, I took a quick trip down memory lane this past weekend as he flew me out to NYC for a visit. Everything was great, until…
Hmmm…
How do I say it…
Let’s just say men need to learn how to clean up after previous chicks before the new ones come around!
I get ready to get in the shower on Saturday morn and I’m cleaning out the tub (because dudes are just nasty, I need a fresh shower)…I pull back the damn shower curtain and what do I see? A bottle of Summer’s Eve wash! So me being me, I just start laughing. And then I look up and see two loofa sponges. So I'm like, ok…it was one thing that this negro didn’t go grocery shopping to have some soy milk for my cereal, there was no toilet paper the WHOLE weekend, I had to wipe my ass with Bounty and on top of all that he didn’t clean up after the last bitch! SERIOUSLY!! WTF?!?!?!?
So I close the curtain and walk into the living room and say, “So how’s that vaginal itch treating you?” Naturally he looks confused. “what?” he says with an attitude. “Your vaginal itch, how’s that working out for you? And your loofas, are they exfoliating your skin properly?” he just looks at me as if I’m speaking Russian “whats a loofa?” I just walk away and say “that’s what I thought”. OF COURSE YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT A LOOFA IS BECAUSE YOU DON’T USE LOOFAS….BITCHES DO!
I proceed to take my shower, get dressed and we go to lunch. While at lunch I kindly tell him “you know whats funny about bitches, and when I say bitches I mean female dogs, not women. Bitches love to mark their territory. They’ll squat everywhere they go. Real women don’t need to leave evidence of their presence, its just felt” He caught on IMMEDIATELY and just grinned at my approach and sincerely explained that those toiletries belonged to an “old friend” that he hadn’t spoken to in over a month. MMM HMM. WHATEVER. I carried on with our weekend and left all of the puppy’s toiletries in place. And I made sure that I took ALL of my belongings. No hairs in the sink. No scent on the sheets…BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT REAL BITCHES DO.
You gotta love these adventures in dating!
1. I need to domesticate you (Um…)
2. You so fine, you look just like Omarion (as in Omarion from B2K? The boy?!?!?)
3. You’re face is perfect. I’d f@%k you from the front (I’m sure there was a compliment in there somewhere)
…So with all that said let me tell about the two latest dudes.
The first is a guy that I was crushing on EXTRA hard from my church. Most of you have heard me mention him because I swear it doesn’t get much finer than this man. Anywho, we’ll call this gent Church Boy. Now I was peeping Church Boy e’ry Sunday in church for the last couple of months and I never made a move…its church. I can’t give him “the look” at altar call…I am trying to get to heaven people!
Well he finally approached me. I swear we were making goo goo eyes at each other during praise & worship. Anyway, he walked up to me as I was exiting church and kept it very general. I explained to him that I was on my way to the airport to hop on a flight to ATL for the next 6 months. DAYUM!! Why would he approach me on the day I'm leaving…UGH…he gave me his number and after two full days I got up the nerve to call. We talked on the phone for three hours about absolutely nothing but absolutely everything. I found out that he is 40 (although he looks 30) and that he’s from St. Louis (shout out to Burgess & Hudlin). I told him all about me and everything seemed cool. Now there were a couple of times where he got a little snippy on the phone but I didn’t think anything of it. I’m just thinking, ok he’s pretty gangsta for no reason.
He calls me the next day and starts to tell me lame jokes that I don’t get and when I didn’t laugh he threatened to put his “foot up my mama’s ass”. I SAID SAY WHAT? Up who’s mama’s ass? Not my mama! Not D. Mills! Is this like the second part of the joke that I don’t understand? Who says that? Then he starts telling me some other random stuff that I couldn’t understand because his cheap ass Boost Mobile phone kept cutting out (where you at!). The man starts yelling at me and checking me because I couldn’t hear him. “Sweetie, you need to listen intently to what I’m saying”. Did this ni99a just call me sweetie in the ULTIMATE condescending tone?! OH HELL NO.
I ended that phone conversation with the quickness never to return.
SO WHO’S NEXT?
Picture it; circa 2005 I have a weeklong affair with a fine specimen of a man that I meet through a friend in NY and just happen to be cohabitating with (that’s too long of a back story to go into). Anywho, well I haven’t seen said specimen in almost three years when he calls me out of the blue a month ago. We’ll refer to this specimen as Breeze (because he thinks he’s so cool). Anyway, Breeze has some sort of an advantage over the rest of these dudes. We already know each other very well, we had to share the same living space for a sec, and its something about him that just makes me melt…he knows this…its no secret. Anyway, I took a quick trip down memory lane this past weekend as he flew me out to NYC for a visit. Everything was great, until…
Hmmm…
How do I say it…
Let’s just say men need to learn how to clean up after previous chicks before the new ones come around!
I get ready to get in the shower on Saturday morn and I’m cleaning out the tub (because dudes are just nasty, I need a fresh shower)…I pull back the damn shower curtain and what do I see? A bottle of Summer’s Eve wash! So me being me, I just start laughing. And then I look up and see two loofa sponges. So I'm like, ok…it was one thing that this negro didn’t go grocery shopping to have some soy milk for my cereal, there was no toilet paper the WHOLE weekend, I had to wipe my ass with Bounty and on top of all that he didn’t clean up after the last bitch! SERIOUSLY!! WTF?!?!?!?
So I close the curtain and walk into the living room and say, “So how’s that vaginal itch treating you?” Naturally he looks confused. “what?” he says with an attitude. “Your vaginal itch, how’s that working out for you? And your loofas, are they exfoliating your skin properly?” he just looks at me as if I’m speaking Russian “whats a loofa?” I just walk away and say “that’s what I thought”. OF COURSE YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT A LOOFA IS BECAUSE YOU DON’T USE LOOFAS….BITCHES DO!
I proceed to take my shower, get dressed and we go to lunch. While at lunch I kindly tell him “you know whats funny about bitches, and when I say bitches I mean female dogs, not women. Bitches love to mark their territory. They’ll squat everywhere they go. Real women don’t need to leave evidence of their presence, its just felt” He caught on IMMEDIATELY and just grinned at my approach and sincerely explained that those toiletries belonged to an “old friend” that he hadn’t spoken to in over a month. MMM HMM. WHATEVER. I carried on with our weekend and left all of the puppy’s toiletries in place. And I made sure that I took ALL of my belongings. No hairs in the sink. No scent on the sheets…BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT REAL BITCHES DO.
You gotta love these adventures in dating!
Friday, February 15, 2008
S.A.D.
So yesterday was Valentine’s Day…or as my girl Joi refers to it, Single Awareness Day (which she also kindly pointed out its acronym…SAD; LOL)
My S.A.D. was pretty sad…LMAO (im literally crackin myself up over here)
Let’s move on to the guy in question. I can go on like this forever…
So Auntie Toni has been trying to hook me up with a friend of hers for some time now. I met him once; he’s a great guy (I can’t remember what he looks like for the life of me). Well he decided to contact me out of nowhere last week.
We’ll call this one Bob…
So apparently Auntie Toni told Bob that I am in Atlanta on business for the next 6 months or so. Bob sent me a text message (which I greatly appreciated because sometimes I hate phone calls) and he told me that he too will be traveling south from LA and he has about a four hour layover in ATL on Valentine’s Day (how convenient). Now instead of Bob saying what I thought would make sense…you know, could I meet him at a restaurant or something near the airport, this fool asks me to come to the airport and chill with him. Um excuse me…chill with you where? Its not like I have a boarding pass and will even be allowed passed the orange alert security. I do not want to be strip searched at the damn Hartsfield airport because you want to “chill” between flights. NO SIR. Are we supposed to chill in ticketing? Im thoroughly confused….so I just say to him, “you want me to come to the airport? Between your flights? I won’t really get there in enough time to kick it like that.” He of course has an answer, “If I only get to see you for a second on Valentine’s Day, that’s enough for me” oooookaaaaay…I’m not really sure how to take that especially since I have only seen you like once and that was a year ago…hmmm…NOT SO MUCH
I tell him I don’t have a ride (which in some round-about way was true) and I spent V Day (aka S.A.D.) with my girl Amber watching TV.
Sorry Auntie, I’m getting an Orange alert, Red flag warning about this one.
NEEEEEEXXXXXXXXXTTTTT!
My S.A.D. was pretty sad…LMAO (im literally crackin myself up over here)
Let’s move on to the guy in question. I can go on like this forever…
So Auntie Toni has been trying to hook me up with a friend of hers for some time now. I met him once; he’s a great guy (I can’t remember what he looks like for the life of me). Well he decided to contact me out of nowhere last week.
We’ll call this one Bob…
So apparently Auntie Toni told Bob that I am in Atlanta on business for the next 6 months or so. Bob sent me a text message (which I greatly appreciated because sometimes I hate phone calls) and he told me that he too will be traveling south from LA and he has about a four hour layover in ATL on Valentine’s Day (how convenient). Now instead of Bob saying what I thought would make sense…you know, could I meet him at a restaurant or something near the airport, this fool asks me to come to the airport and chill with him. Um excuse me…chill with you where? Its not like I have a boarding pass and will even be allowed passed the orange alert security. I do not want to be strip searched at the damn Hartsfield airport because you want to “chill” between flights. NO SIR. Are we supposed to chill in ticketing? Im thoroughly confused….so I just say to him, “you want me to come to the airport? Between your flights? I won’t really get there in enough time to kick it like that.” He of course has an answer, “If I only get to see you for a second on Valentine’s Day, that’s enough for me” oooookaaaaay…I’m not really sure how to take that especially since I have only seen you like once and that was a year ago…hmmm…NOT SO MUCH
I tell him I don’t have a ride (which in some round-about way was true) and I spent V Day (aka S.A.D.) with my girl Amber watching TV.
Sorry Auntie, I’m getting an Orange alert, Red flag warning about this one.
NEEEEEEXXXXXXXXXTTTTT!
Monday, January 14, 2008
I'm Still Dating
I know its been a minute since I’ve written one of these blogs…let me explain why…YOU PEOPLE THINK THAT ITS SOOOO F-ING FUNNY WHEN MY DATES GO BAD THAT YOU’RE ONLY TRYING TO HOOK ME UP WITH WACK PEOPLE JUST SO YOU CAN HAVE A LAUGH. WTF?
(lol)
I’ve had someone tell me, “I’m gonna hook you up with this guy I know, he lies about everything. He’ll be perfect”…Perfect for whom?? Is he perfect because you know I'm gonna roast him on this blog and you’ll laugh your ass off? No ma’am. Its’08, I have no time for losers. I had someone else tell me, “I should hook you up with my cousin, I think he sells drugs. That’s not a problem is it?” What the F—k do you think? As fly as Elvira Hancock was (Michelle Pfeiffer, Scarface) the day of the D Boy is over!! You Feel Me?!?!?!
Moving on…yesterday I went out with a new guy. We’ll call this dude “AG”. AG was introduced to me by my co-worker Francine. AG is a marketing exec at Nike in Portland, has one child, and is probably about 10 years my senior…
After church, I met AG, Francine, and their other friend Jerry at Serving Spoon in Inglewood. They had already finished their meal so I basically just came to meet AG and join in the conversation. The moment I took a seat at the table I immediately gave him the once over. He’s a good looking guy (not typically my type but these days, straight & breathing are my type), he was dressed sort of “over 35 trendy”, and he kept his blackberry right next to him as if he were receiving calls every 30 seconds. I also noticed a very hairy chest (Dayum). I hate hairy chests. And not only was his chest hairy, but it was like salt & pepper hairy. There were quite a few grays on that chest and they were slowly creeping out of his V-Neck shirt right up his neck…GET THAT! Chest Hair maybe, but Neck hair is never ok. So after a lot of basketball & Nike conversation we finally left the restaurant and AG tells me “I want to go to a hat shop in Venice, you can come with me there”…thank you??
Maybe Francine sensed the awkwardness of the situation and offered to come with us. She followed in her car while I rode with Hairy, oops I mean AG in his ‘07 Mustang rental [side note, I think the new model Mustangs are very Metro Sexual, the late ‘90’s mustangs are very gay, and the classic Mustangs are just that, Classic…in other words, I didn’t know how I felt about his car rental choice]. Anywho, our conversation picks up on the way to Venice and he talked a lot about his world travels, extended stays in foreign countries, the fact that he’s lived in many cities, and that most of his family lives on the eastside (Eastside=Compton, Watts, Gardena, Lynwood, etc…most LA industry folks feel that claiming your eastside peeps makes you more “down”, whatevs). And of course he says all of this in a tone that I am very familiar with…that ‘oh you’re so young you’ve probably never left the state so let me explain to you how it is’ tone… So, I being such a lady, kindly let him explain foreign affairs to me, how it feels to fly for long periods of time, and what’s so great about Atlanta, New York, and Miami. (I always get a kick out of these conversations with men, they can be so simple sometime…no offense guys). He FINALLY asked me what I do for BET…well he actually said, “So do you assist at BET?” I just smiled with confidence and said, “Nope, I produce”. A quick look of shock took over his face and he said “Oh so you’re trying to do your thing over there”… “No honey, I am doing my thing! I’m not a PA, I’ve been at this for a minute” of course I didn’t say that…no need for me to be cocky!
I gently explained to this man that I too have been around the world and I am all too familiar with long flights, foreign foods, and have called New York, New Jersey, and Atlanta home. And on top of that, ALL of my family is from Compton!
He just said “Well I see the little eastside girl is doing her thing”. There was no need for me to respond to that.
We finally reach Abbott Kinney and the 3 of us walk down the street and peek into random shops and buy random things. After about an hour of this, Francine decides to abandon us and we stop at an Omelet bar so I could grab a bite. I of course order eggs with spinach & cheese and he orders a coffee. Now here’s the perfect opportunity for us to chat and share intellectual conversation but AG decides to spend this whole time talking to the young waiter who shares his name and graduated from his Alma Mauder. Whatevs, I’m over this date anyway. I’m now day dreaming about the new episode of The Wire that’s coming on in a couple of hours.
So my eggs arrive at the table and this dude starts dissing my food. “What is an egg exactly?” Now I’m annoyed. My face I’m sure is frowned a major way. “What?” I grunt. “How can you eat eggs? It’s an embryo. Who knows what that egg was gonna hatch into”. Is this ni99a crazy? Did he just say embryo while I’m eating?? And what does he mean, who knows what the egg was gonna hatch into?? It was gonna hatch into a chicken Dumb Ass!!! I hurry through my eggs so this foolery can end, I’m over this.
Finally we’re back in the car and he wants to make plans for later. I already know that I’m not interested, but I tell him that I’ll call him later anyway. He thinks about it for a second and then says, “Well you should hurry and let me know because I’m supposed to go to dinner with Mike Epps and his manager. Maybe I’ll bring you along” Ni99a please don’t name drop with me, that’ll get you no where. I just roll my eyes. He makes a call (on speakerphone of course) and tells his friend that he still wants to do dinner and that he may bring someone along. The guy on the other end of the phone has no clue what he’s talking about and rushes him off the line. I just giggle to myself at these Tool antics. (A Tool is someone who likes to show off and name drop; one who acts more important than they are).
At last, we arrive safely back to Inglewood where my car awaits and I give him a hug and tell him we’ll speak later. I jump in my car a speed off into the LA sunset.
Over all AG was a great guy, just not for the kid! Sorry Fran :(
NEEEEXXXXTTT!
(lol)
I’ve had someone tell me, “I’m gonna hook you up with this guy I know, he lies about everything. He’ll be perfect”…Perfect for whom?? Is he perfect because you know I'm gonna roast him on this blog and you’ll laugh your ass off? No ma’am. Its’08, I have no time for losers. I had someone else tell me, “I should hook you up with my cousin, I think he sells drugs. That’s not a problem is it?” What the F—k do you think? As fly as Elvira Hancock was (Michelle Pfeiffer, Scarface) the day of the D Boy is over!! You Feel Me?!?!?!
Moving on…yesterday I went out with a new guy. We’ll call this dude “AG”. AG was introduced to me by my co-worker Francine. AG is a marketing exec at Nike in Portland, has one child, and is probably about 10 years my senior…
After church, I met AG, Francine, and their other friend Jerry at Serving Spoon in Inglewood. They had already finished their meal so I basically just came to meet AG and join in the conversation. The moment I took a seat at the table I immediately gave him the once over. He’s a good looking guy (not typically my type but these days, straight & breathing are my type), he was dressed sort of “over 35 trendy”, and he kept his blackberry right next to him as if he were receiving calls every 30 seconds. I also noticed a very hairy chest (Dayum). I hate hairy chests. And not only was his chest hairy, but it was like salt & pepper hairy. There were quite a few grays on that chest and they were slowly creeping out of his V-Neck shirt right up his neck…GET THAT! Chest Hair maybe, but Neck hair is never ok. So after a lot of basketball & Nike conversation we finally left the restaurant and AG tells me “I want to go to a hat shop in Venice, you can come with me there”…thank you??
Maybe Francine sensed the awkwardness of the situation and offered to come with us. She followed in her car while I rode with Hairy, oops I mean AG in his ‘07 Mustang rental [side note, I think the new model Mustangs are very Metro Sexual, the late ‘90’s mustangs are very gay, and the classic Mustangs are just that, Classic…in other words, I didn’t know how I felt about his car rental choice]. Anywho, our conversation picks up on the way to Venice and he talked a lot about his world travels, extended stays in foreign countries, the fact that he’s lived in many cities, and that most of his family lives on the eastside (Eastside=Compton, Watts, Gardena, Lynwood, etc…most LA industry folks feel that claiming your eastside peeps makes you more “down”, whatevs). And of course he says all of this in a tone that I am very familiar with…that ‘oh you’re so young you’ve probably never left the state so let me explain to you how it is’ tone… So, I being such a lady, kindly let him explain foreign affairs to me, how it feels to fly for long periods of time, and what’s so great about Atlanta, New York, and Miami. (I always get a kick out of these conversations with men, they can be so simple sometime…no offense guys). He FINALLY asked me what I do for BET…well he actually said, “So do you assist at BET?” I just smiled with confidence and said, “Nope, I produce”. A quick look of shock took over his face and he said “Oh so you’re trying to do your thing over there”… “No honey, I am doing my thing! I’m not a PA, I’ve been at this for a minute” of course I didn’t say that…no need for me to be cocky!
I gently explained to this man that I too have been around the world and I am all too familiar with long flights, foreign foods, and have called New York, New Jersey, and Atlanta home. And on top of that, ALL of my family is from Compton!
He just said “Well I see the little eastside girl is doing her thing”. There was no need for me to respond to that.
We finally reach Abbott Kinney and the 3 of us walk down the street and peek into random shops and buy random things. After about an hour of this, Francine decides to abandon us and we stop at an Omelet bar so I could grab a bite. I of course order eggs with spinach & cheese and he orders a coffee. Now here’s the perfect opportunity for us to chat and share intellectual conversation but AG decides to spend this whole time talking to the young waiter who shares his name and graduated from his Alma Mauder. Whatevs, I’m over this date anyway. I’m now day dreaming about the new episode of The Wire that’s coming on in a couple of hours.
So my eggs arrive at the table and this dude starts dissing my food. “What is an egg exactly?” Now I’m annoyed. My face I’m sure is frowned a major way. “What?” I grunt. “How can you eat eggs? It’s an embryo. Who knows what that egg was gonna hatch into”. Is this ni99a crazy? Did he just say embryo while I’m eating?? And what does he mean, who knows what the egg was gonna hatch into?? It was gonna hatch into a chicken Dumb Ass!!! I hurry through my eggs so this foolery can end, I’m over this.
Finally we’re back in the car and he wants to make plans for later. I already know that I’m not interested, but I tell him that I’ll call him later anyway. He thinks about it for a second and then says, “Well you should hurry and let me know because I’m supposed to go to dinner with Mike Epps and his manager. Maybe I’ll bring you along” Ni99a please don’t name drop with me, that’ll get you no where. I just roll my eyes. He makes a call (on speakerphone of course) and tells his friend that he still wants to do dinner and that he may bring someone along. The guy on the other end of the phone has no clue what he’s talking about and rushes him off the line. I just giggle to myself at these Tool antics. (A Tool is someone who likes to show off and name drop; one who acts more important than they are).
At last, we arrive safely back to Inglewood where my car awaits and I give him a hug and tell him we’ll speak later. I jump in my car a speed off into the LA sunset.
Over all AG was a great guy, just not for the kid! Sorry Fran :(
NEEEEXXXXTTT!
Thursday, December 13, 2007
...AND ANOTHER ONE
So Badru is one of my BEST friends!! He & I talk every single day about absolutely nothing. If I’m in trouble, I call him. If I need some REAL advice, I call him. If I need someone kidnapped, thrown in the trunk, and tossed in a basement, I most definitely call him!! (For those of you who know “Bad” understand why).
Anywho, I always make jokes at him saying that he wants me to be single forever. (Kind of how Tony Montana felt about his little sister Gina) Bad swears this is not the case and said that he had the perfect guy for me. He had a friend who looked just like Omar Epps. OMAR EPPS??!! You mean my crush from the early 90’s til today?! Half my life I wanted DJ GQ (omar epps not kristopher cottrell).
“Ok”, I’m thinking, “if Bad is hooking me up this dude he has got to be the one! He must be a DJ or someone artistic. Even better, he’ll be a fly hood dude who understands industry life versus real life. This is gonna be sweet!!”
Bad gave the guy my number and he eventually called. In the first 5 minutes of our conversation, I learned that “Q” owns his own real estate company, has at least one child, and has developed a relationship with some girl that lives in another state. But according to him, “that relationship will never go anywhere because she lives there and I live here. I already told her I’m not moving for her. I’m a bread-winner. If she wants to be with me she’ll have to move here!”
Mmmkay…
We talk a little longer and I tell him that I work for BET. This sparks an over-interest in Q. He starts to tell me that he has all of these pilots that he wants to develop, that he wants to come into the office and pitch, and that he’ll even be so kind as to let me write it for him. I just laugh at the arrogance of this dude and politely end our phone conversation.
The next day we text and I tell him to meet me at PF Chang’s for dinner. I of course have on my favorite ass jeans…ya’ll know the first wearers, to make objects bigger than they appear like a review mirror…anyway, as I am walking up to the door I see him in the waiting area and I’m thinking, “please don’t let this be him, please don’t let this be him. Damn it is. Heeeeeey”. First of all, this man don’t look a damn thing like Omar Epps…more like Omar Oopps! I give him a slight embrace and I quickly assess his outfit (don’t judge ladies, we all do it!!!) He is wearing a nice pinned stripped suit, Gucci hard bottoms, shiny gold cuff links and his initials are embroidered in his shirt…hmmm…(side note, I am always leery of men who over dress. I don’t know why, I just am…I believe simple goes a long way)
We take a booth and he seems over the fine dinning experience of PF Chang’s already. (lol)
He asks me “why did you choose this restaurant”, with a bit of snooty in his voice. I’m thinking, oh negro don’t get it twisted, clearly I could have severed your bank account with a trip to Mr. Chows, Yamashiro, or even Katana for that matter…I’m doing you a favor…but I graciously said, “Because its simple, I like simplicity”…hoping he would catch on to my round about reference to his purple italicized initials starring me in the face.
After he takes 3 unnecessary phone calls, he starts to pitch his pilot. The television show, which he knows will be a hit because he already has a fan base [ni**a please], is based on his life story. He starts at age 3.........
2 raspberry lemondrop martinis, appetizers, a main course, dessert offer from the waiter, and 2 full hours go by and this dude is still talking…
So far I have learned that he actually has 3 kids, an ex-wife, an ex-girlfriend whose children he takes care of, he’s an ex-con, daddy is a crack head, he tried to kill someone at Rally’s Burgers on Manchester, and he watched his sister get mauled by a dog …sounds like a typical story of any black dude growing up in LA to me (j/k).
I was disoriented by this time. I honestly thought that if I rammed my head into the glass window he wouldn’t even notice. I began to day dream about lying on the floor in the middle of the restaurant and just taking a nap…I bet he would still be talking when I woke up. I began to pray that the little devil from Hell Date would just pop out of nowhere and rid me of this misery.
I think he began to notice that I had tuned him out; so now after 2.5 hours he says, “I don’t want to tell you too much, I don’t want to bore you”. Are you F-ing kidding me??!! You just told me your whole got-damn, boring ass life story from the age of 3 til 33. NI**A I AM BORED!! But I just kindly said, “Oh no, that’s ok” Besides placing my order, I think those were the only four words that I uttered all night.
I hit him with the yawn and told him that I had a very early meeting the next day. Our date ended [thank you Jesus] and as soon as I got home I called Badru and cussed him out. I explained to him that I hated his eye whites and that our friendship was over (no really)! Badru, how is it that I talk to you every single day and you hook me up with a yee (yee is LA slang for herb or square).
Badru claims that he has someone better in mind for me.
YEAH RIGHT!!
NEEEEEEEEEEEXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!
Anywho, I always make jokes at him saying that he wants me to be single forever. (Kind of how Tony Montana felt about his little sister Gina) Bad swears this is not the case and said that he had the perfect guy for me. He had a friend who looked just like Omar Epps. OMAR EPPS??!! You mean my crush from the early 90’s til today?! Half my life I wanted DJ GQ (omar epps not kristopher cottrell).
“Ok”, I’m thinking, “if Bad is hooking me up this dude he has got to be the one! He must be a DJ or someone artistic. Even better, he’ll be a fly hood dude who understands industry life versus real life. This is gonna be sweet!!”
Bad gave the guy my number and he eventually called. In the first 5 minutes of our conversation, I learned that “Q” owns his own real estate company, has at least one child, and has developed a relationship with some girl that lives in another state. But according to him, “that relationship will never go anywhere because she lives there and I live here. I already told her I’m not moving for her. I’m a bread-winner. If she wants to be with me she’ll have to move here!”
Mmmkay…
We talk a little longer and I tell him that I work for BET. This sparks an over-interest in Q. He starts to tell me that he has all of these pilots that he wants to develop, that he wants to come into the office and pitch, and that he’ll even be so kind as to let me write it for him. I just laugh at the arrogance of this dude and politely end our phone conversation.
The next day we text and I tell him to meet me at PF Chang’s for dinner. I of course have on my favorite ass jeans…ya’ll know the first wearers, to make objects bigger than they appear like a review mirror…anyway, as I am walking up to the door I see him in the waiting area and I’m thinking, “please don’t let this be him, please don’t let this be him. Damn it is. Heeeeeey”. First of all, this man don’t look a damn thing like Omar Epps…more like Omar Oopps! I give him a slight embrace and I quickly assess his outfit (don’t judge ladies, we all do it!!!) He is wearing a nice pinned stripped suit, Gucci hard bottoms, shiny gold cuff links and his initials are embroidered in his shirt…hmmm…(side note, I am always leery of men who over dress. I don’t know why, I just am…I believe simple goes a long way)
We take a booth and he seems over the fine dinning experience of PF Chang’s already. (lol)
He asks me “why did you choose this restaurant”, with a bit of snooty in his voice. I’m thinking, oh negro don’t get it twisted, clearly I could have severed your bank account with a trip to Mr. Chows, Yamashiro, or even Katana for that matter…I’m doing you a favor…but I graciously said, “Because its simple, I like simplicity”…hoping he would catch on to my round about reference to his purple italicized initials starring me in the face.
After he takes 3 unnecessary phone calls, he starts to pitch his pilot. The television show, which he knows will be a hit because he already has a fan base [ni**a please], is based on his life story. He starts at age 3.........
2 raspberry lemondrop martinis, appetizers, a main course, dessert offer from the waiter, and 2 full hours go by and this dude is still talking…
So far I have learned that he actually has 3 kids, an ex-wife, an ex-girlfriend whose children he takes care of, he’s an ex-con, daddy is a crack head, he tried to kill someone at Rally’s Burgers on Manchester, and he watched his sister get mauled by a dog …sounds like a typical story of any black dude growing up in LA to me (j/k).
I was disoriented by this time. I honestly thought that if I rammed my head into the glass window he wouldn’t even notice. I began to day dream about lying on the floor in the middle of the restaurant and just taking a nap…I bet he would still be talking when I woke up. I began to pray that the little devil from Hell Date would just pop out of nowhere and rid me of this misery.
I think he began to notice that I had tuned him out; so now after 2.5 hours he says, “I don’t want to tell you too much, I don’t want to bore you”. Are you F-ing kidding me??!! You just told me your whole got-damn, boring ass life story from the age of 3 til 33. NI**A I AM BORED!! But I just kindly said, “Oh no, that’s ok” Besides placing my order, I think those were the only four words that I uttered all night.
I hit him with the yawn and told him that I had a very early meeting the next day. Our date ended [thank you Jesus] and as soon as I got home I called Badru and cussed him out. I explained to him that I hated his eye whites and that our friendship was over (no really)! Badru, how is it that I talk to you every single day and you hook me up with a yee (yee is LA slang for herb or square).
Badru claims that he has someone better in mind for me.
YEAH RIGHT!!
NEEEEEEEEEEEXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!
Friday, December 7, 2007
I'm Not The Only One!
So normally, I just inform you all on my dating antics. Not this week. I must tell ya’ll about my best friend, Miss My James. So My & Dione (my two best chicks since junior high days) are sitting in the car late Saturday night at a taco stand waiting for the “after the club vittles” when a cutie comes up to the car and asks for a light. My gives him a light and then continues to explain that it is unsafe to walk up to a strangers car in LA at 2 o’clock in the morning…well, what she really said was “Yo ass almost got shot walking up on my car like that!”. He was obviously smitten by her vast street knowledge and they exchanged numbers…
They talked on the phone a few times. He was giving my best friend the giggles with all the stuff he was talking. [keykeykeykey]
One night in a “let’s get to know each other” phone conversation, she tells him her favorite movie of all times is Lady Sings The Blues. The next day he calls her and says “Fed Ex just delivered your movie to my house”. O M G!!!!!!!!! He is sounding like a winner right? Read on….
They make a date to meet at his house and go back to the same taco stand where they met and come back home and watch the movie.
1: He has her waiting outside his house [at night] for over 10 minutes {side note: this dude stays off of Slauson and 60th Street…for all those not from LA, THAT IS THE HOOD!!!}
2: After they pick up the food, he asks her to make a “stop” on the way back…oh hell no!!!! What did you say you did for a living????
3: Sooo once My realized what he did for a living she began to ask questions. This fool tries to sell her some dope! OH HELL NO NEGRO!!! Do I look like a potential client?
4: They make it back to the house to watch Lady Sings The Blues and it’s a bootleg copy!!!!! WTF?????? How in the hell do you have a bootleg copy of old ass Lady Sings The Blues???!!!! Why are there people walking in front of the screen on this old ass movie?!!! (j/k)
Poor My. All I have is one thing to say…
NEEEEEXXXXXTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
They talked on the phone a few times. He was giving my best friend the giggles with all the stuff he was talking. [keykeykeykey]
One night in a “let’s get to know each other” phone conversation, she tells him her favorite movie of all times is Lady Sings The Blues. The next day he calls her and says “Fed Ex just delivered your movie to my house”. O M G!!!!!!!!! He is sounding like a winner right? Read on….
They make a date to meet at his house and go back to the same taco stand where they met and come back home and watch the movie.
1: He has her waiting outside his house [at night] for over 10 minutes {side note: this dude stays off of Slauson and 60th Street…for all those not from LA, THAT IS THE HOOD!!!}
2: After they pick up the food, he asks her to make a “stop” on the way back…oh hell no!!!! What did you say you did for a living????
3: Sooo once My realized what he did for a living she began to ask questions. This fool tries to sell her some dope! OH HELL NO NEGRO!!! Do I look like a potential client?
4: They make it back to the house to watch Lady Sings The Blues and it’s a bootleg copy!!!!! WTF?????? How in the hell do you have a bootleg copy of old ass Lady Sings The Blues???!!!! Why are there people walking in front of the screen on this old ass movie?!!! (j/k)
Poor My. All I have is one thing to say…
NEEEEEXXXXXTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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