The First Night.

'I should make a move, but I won't.' -Monica

I know you see me, because I see you. I know you’re digging me-
But I don’t need you to. While you were walking up- I was coming down-before I descend further- you quickly turn around. Mr. 400. Stops me for a sec. 'I think I’ve seen you before.' In a past life? Na, it was at the spot- but not the other night.

He said he likes my swag, in so many words. I like his disposition- polished, but not a herb. We step off of the steps- to a secluded space. He’s sizing up my thighs, and I observe his face. Gentle yet pensive eyes. Dark, thick hair. Clean-cut fade. A Ferragamo pair.

Intrigued he asks me more- about my career path- how do I earn a living? What really makes me laugh? We’re at the bar now- throwing a couple back. Compared to what he’s saying, this music's sounding wack.


Are you in a rush? No sir, I’m really not. So come and go with me- to the next spot. Feeling the conversation- we reach our destination. The music is kind of loud. Fragmented crowd. Don’t really like this place. He took me to my car- and then a change of pace.

Can we go and eat? No thanks, I’m not hungry.

It’s getting pretty late- but I enjoyed your company.

Monday night came. July fireworks. He met me downtown. Dinner and dessert. Overlooking the water- we share intimate laughter. I make him smile wide- he loves the friendly chatter.

A man unfolding slowly- in his own way.

I sense the guarded gate- I steadily knock it away.

Not too much into family- but I’m close with mine. He hasn’t seen his momma
- in a long time.

We walk along the water- fierce, warm breeze. We sit along the water- talking with gentle ease. A few moments of silence- the Bay is really quiet. Exchange of current thoughts- really light words.

Then we walk back- I stop him at the curb. Don’t open my door yet- stay here for a second. I open my arms-wide, and hug him for a minute. What was that for? He asks, a little dazed- but this is why people date- so you can learn my ways.

We speed off to Sobe.-a laid-back lounge. I heard the spot was fresh- and always going down.

Approach the bar first- he buys me a strong-drink. We post up on the side- I wonder how he thinks. We watch the people walk. We hear the people talk. And the guitarist plays- some rockish-reggae jams- from back in the day. Head towards the back- it’s like a bashment- dancehall grooves- Jamaican funk style. He grabs another drink- in this tight crowd.

We go to the corner- I stand as he sits. We get a little closer- he touches my waist and hips. The Vodka’s kicking in- the vibes are full of sin- onto the Capleton- feels like he's more than a friend.

We stay a little longer- our connection is feeling stronger- some close exchange of words- he kisses me on my cheek. First time in a while, I felt a little weak. We make our way out -through a tight crowd. The music’s still blazing- but he wants to head south.

Finally he brings me home- I let him come inside. Instant comfort there- he likes my apartment’s vibe. We watch Dave Chappelle- Rick James bitch- I compliment his watch- he gently strokes my wrists.

We chat a little more- he asks ‘why are you single?’ I explain why- he looks me in my eye- I prop my legs up; he starts to rub my thighs.

We talk a little more- laugh at Charlie Murphy- Its getting close to 4- but nobody's in a hurry.

He comes a little closer- before I could remiss- he pulls my face in- and he thieved a kiss. And if you saw his lips- you also wouldn’t resist. I had to back up, attempting to dismiss. Is it ok to kiss? I couldn’t even respond. I was breathless from this physical bond. I slightly hesitated- and then insinuated- the reception was initiated- and then I reciprocated.

Very late now, I had to kick him out. Date 1: accomplished.

He should take a bow.

Femmenace to Society

I never felt this way before.

As I sat in the airport, after an extended weekend with a male friend, responding to my Monday morning ‘hey girl, so how was it?!’ texts, I realized how happy I was to get away from him. I slept about 8 hours, yet - I felt exhausted. The weekend was enjoyable- yet- unfulfilling. Shallow, ephemeral pleasures: R. Kelly’s concert being the highlight. I had no real ‘connection’ to this young man. The chemistry wasn't as strong as I thought, we're both stubborn, and have differing belief systems. And although he was a gentleman, I received royal treatment, most expenses paid, and a fly Marc Jacobs watch- I sat in terminal T, still, unfulfilled. Not floating on cloud 9. Not replaying any part of the weekend. I was just ready to get back to Miami. Truth be told, I was ready to leave before I even arrived. It’s truly ridiculous how easily turned-off I can be. So capricious- sometimes I disgust myself. In this moment it was when I realized how ‘over’ the concept, notion and even act of dating, I really am. The level of indifference I now have regarding romance, has reached an all-time high. But of course, one doesn’t reach this emotionless, cold place overnight. This has been a progressive, downhill spiral. And who is to blame? Society? Men? The alcohol?


Hell if I know.

Most women dream of fulfilling their maternal, womanly destiny. You know- big dream wedding to the man she loves, a few kids, the ‘ring.’ The notion of perpetuity, a supporting husband, kids that love you, and a comfortable life. She may work, but her number one role is the Queen of the home. Several good friends have partaken in this realm of thinking & are benefitting greatly from it. I support them- fully- however, I have come to accept that it doesn’t happen with as much ease for all women. For some, it doesn’t happen at all.

I used to think that 27 was the ‘golden age’ which I would aim to be married. Here I am- 25- and am as single as an apple in a bucket of oranges. Somewhere along the lines, my priorities shifted. Fiercely independent and guarded, I now take more pleasure in the thought of running the marketing for a Global brand, learning Spanish, and traveling to the Middle East more than a stupid wedding dress or even meeting a good man. They come and they go- and being the serial dater that I am, this I know first-hand. So why should I value men, when they seemingly evaporate after about 2 dates (on average)? They’ve become as dispensable as toilet paper: one-use and its over. The more I look at myself, in my current state, the less I seem like a woman.

‘Act like a Lady, Think Like a Man.’ Not ‘Act like a Man, Be a Man.’

My emotions are distant. I realized how ‘detached’ I have become. Partially, I believe that this is a defense mechanism to avoid pain. When you’re heart is soft, it’s easier to break, I think. So, I only seek to get what a man is willing to give- and most of it is pretty shallow and materialistic. Conversation.. nice dinners.. weekend companionship.. head on occasion- and not much else. Nobody has sustained my interest to the point of true, ‘openness.’ Sadly.



But let me not seem so..’bitter.’ People say that it (love?) comes when you least expect it- and I definitely subscribe to this theory. So I guess the indifferent, accepting frame of mind will keep my self-esteem from plummeting and free me from feeling like a societal menace to womanhood.



Oh- and if the theory is true, I’ll probably be getting a man from it as well.



Let’s see what happens.