Category Archives: Dating

Today’s Word is… SAVAGE

What came first, the chicken or the egg.  (Obviously the chicken, it’d be like Adam and Eve being babies).  It’s a causality dilemma nonetheless, you can’t have one without the other.  Much like the savage and the fuckboy.  Behind either one, is some hurt they never sorted out fully and instead became the person who hurted them.  Because feelings suck.  Feeling betrayed by those feelings suck and now you want to make sure you never feel that way again.  And so, you become a savage.  You do what you want to who you want and don’t worry about consequences; they’ll be iight, you lived so will they.  Or they just take that hurt turn into savages themselves and suddenly it’s like Walking Dead, living amongst the savages who ain’t got shit to offer but hurt feelings and wyd texts while you still trying to find something real and avoid becoming a savage your damn self. I mean I’ve done some things whilst hurting (that was a crazy summer).  You find yourself reaching out to people you ain’t seen in ages like “where the wave at”, hitting up old flames knowing good and well they are not the come thru and chill type, meeting and deleting people with the same turnover rate as the White House.  You know you living foul but accountability is a little too close to feelings and you don’t do those anymore, you’re a savage.  

It’s an addicting feeling, feels almost like control.  Can’t get hurt if you don’t care.  And to be fair, why should you?  Why even stress over someone who wasn’t going to be your forever anyway?  There were times when I wasn’t even trying to be a “savage”, I literally ran out of fucks to give.   There were times I got that text and it’s like, I probably could fix this, but I won’t. She was a loud snorer.  I don’t want another smoker.  She was an awful kisser.  I like my Sundays. This is like our 15th breakup.  I don’t even like white women like that anyway.  She cut her hair.  She’s finna move away.   She watches Gilmore Girls.  Everything isn’t worth your time and energy, and sometimes people need to be reminded of that fact. If that’s, as the kids say, savage AF,  so be it.   

*cue Rihanna*

Except… You’re not Rihanna.  Rihanna was coming from a place where she is tired of having to explain every guy she’s seen with on TMZ, you are just pretending you don’t have feelings which literally counteracts science. I can get being exhausted by hurt, lies, and disappointment… But that’s just life.  This newfound era of “savagery” is just low expectations and hypocrisy.  Fairly transparent, at that.  There’s sexual liberation and there’s just being a trash person.  A lesson even I learned the hard way; that eventually every one gets over your shit.   That aforementioned summer ended as the others did, a whole lot of fuck yous only for me to leave off with a petty parting quip.  In the moment, it was savage but in hindsight it was hurt.  Hurt that again I was in this position, hurt in the realization that all of them couldn’t be tripping.  That brushing it off and on to the next one wasn’t fixing nothing, I had to really self evaluate.  As for them, maybe they found someone who wouldn’t waste their time, or maybe they are just savages now.  I truly root for the former, if it’s the latter… Well, sorry.  

So being a savage, creates a savage that may create a savage.  How do we stop the epidemic of misdirected retaliation?   Self evaluation,  for starters.  It can’t just be “men” or “women here”, “Mercury is in Retro Js”, “this generation”… Something is actually wrong.   Lowering expectations and just being a savage is scotch tape on a broken window.  We’re wired for companionship, we desire, we care, we feel… And there’s nothing wrong with that, pretending you don’t for convenience sake doesn’t do anything but infect others.  The irony is, what would be savage is loving freely and openly without fear. Not empty situationships and convincing yourself it’s on your terms.  As Auntie Maya says “Have enough courage to trust love one more time and shit.” (Not a direct quote).  

-Stan-

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Today’s Word is… SIMPLE

Men are simple.  It’s an adage as old as time itself; basically it’s Morgan Freeman.  It’s partially correct in the sense that men aren’t as complicated as made out to be; just about every “why doesn’t he…” question can be answered with a “because he doesn’t want to.”  Trying to find deeper meaning in direct ass words and actions is simply searching for an answer you like better or trying to make a Nicki Minaj verse profound.    He isn’t being complicated, he’s literally rhyming race with race and China with China.  He doesn’t want you, my dear.  That level of simplicity then gets applied to men in general; Be hot.  Have sex.  Feed him. Don’t nag. Your caveman will love you until he dies… Well except for the fact that he broods mostly at home but you see pictures of him on his line brothers page and he’s never been more ecstatic.  He comes home and says work is fine but the entire ride home he sulked thinking about the promotion he got passed over on.  He loves your family like his own but you barely know his and he never really speaks about that.  Turns out, he isn’t simple. Because no one is simple.  We all have our layers, needs, wants, desires.  

“Men are simple”  is a cop out, albeit self afflicted because we struggle with exploring our layers, expressing our true wants and intentions, and holding ourselves accountable to them.   It’s the logic upon which Steve Harvey has built an empire, psssh men are easy clearly it’s you.  Men themselves own it, but if all we need is sex, food and silence then why aren’t we satisfied?  Not too long ago I wrote about the “its cool girl” (#wellactually, it was well over a year ago… Time flying like a bitch ain’t it?).  The it’s cool girl is low maintenance, available, convenient because she is just trying to get chose. Then one day she looks up and realizes she isn’t happy because she lost herself in her relationship.  “Sex, food, silence” guy is the other side of that coin, he doesn’t feel, doesn’t care, doesn’t express what he wants because that’s woman shit.  It’s cool girl and it’s cool guy then find themselves in a unsatisfying relationship until one or both of them cheats or leaves. (Lawrence and Issa).  It’s cool guy might even be worse because he approached, courted and chose her and never really asked himself, is this what I really want?  

I’ve been it’s cool guy. I’m a pleaser, but sometimes I would get so caught up in trying to be any and everything for her that I lost myself.  Because she was fine. Because she passed the checklist.  Because she was my best friend.   I was getting the food, sex, silence but still not satisfied, still not whole.  I would get frustrated with myself; maybe I was being too picky, maybe I was just a fuckboy or maybe I didn’t know what I was doing.  (I still don’t know what I’m doing).  The answer was, I was being simple and simplicity bores me.  I need to be me, fully and understood as such.  Maybe if I knew then what I know now I would’ve been able to express what I needed and received it.  Now I do know what I want and still trying to find a way to articulate it. I’m layered but not unsolvable. Learn me. (okay…clearly still work shopping the articulation part) 

We all want the simple things but it’s time to stop being naive as if that’s all we want. Netflix is not a date.  Stop tweeting generalizations and call her.   Yes it’s still a fuckboy move if you’re really good to her whilst stringing her along. Basically, we all need to stop lying.  We aren’t simple.  Playing it cool helps no one. Just maybe if everyone kept it 100 about what they want, dating could be a wee bit less trash.  Instead, everyone paying the minimum wondering why they still in debt. Sad! 

-Stan-

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Today’s Word is… EVENTS

So this past weekend I was at a Must Love Beards party, a day party where men got in free, beard or not and the ladies paid a cover. I’m not presently looking for anyone, I was largely there to support the host and was curious at who would pay to attend.  (I found out later it was $25, and good on them because you must be out your damn mind, you tell me a club cost $25 I’m probably turning around.  $25 I expect a performance, a drink ticket, something.  Better yet I’m surprised women wasn’t just feeling up beards and saying “aye red Jordans… Whatever you ugly anyway”, if you gonna do it, DO IT.). Actually, the whole experience was an interesting role reversal as ladies showed up in their baddest dress and heels and the fellas were there in kicks and hats.  Plenty of dudes shot pool, only danced when Future came on, took some selfies and dipped.  So basically, the ladies seem to go through what we do just about every other time. 

I had a good time; as did plenty of the guys I talked to afterward.  A growing sentiment was there was finally an event that actually felt *for* them.    I’m not the biggest club guy myself but to my earlier point, between the usual dress code, music selection, cover charge, parking, expensive drinks it’s easy to see why men are typically like, yeah fuck all that.  You can meet a woman with a swipe of a finger now, why are you going through this? Clubs here are always women, dude bros, cat daddies, the promoters 8 homeboys and the people who just moved from New York and DC who will quickly learn this ain’t New York or DC.  Round here, Nightlife don’t love us, we don’t love it. Sad. 

I was talking to someone that night who asked, “so where the hell y’all be every other night?  It’s not like y’all don’t–” 

*cut to dance floor, circle of bearded bruhs like*

…like to dance.” I gave the same nightlife don’t love us speech but then we spoke more about how everyone says they prefer to meet people at events while not ever going to, you know, events.  I started to think about what typically gets men out the house in general (women, food, money), what typically deters men from an event (convenience, rejection, money) and the fact that some of our interests (sports, video games, women) don’t actually require us to go anywhere.  She asked so where would we go that isn’t a club/party and while personally I’m more of a festival, museum, movie kind of guy and those things I’m far more likely to bring a +1 than with some single homies or even go alone. So unless you’re shooting your shot while she’s in the restroom (I’m not saying this happened but I’m not not saying it) it once again doesn’t really solve the problem. 

I guess the solution is more Must Love Beard like events or just a shift in nightlife culture in general.  There’s always Greek events (even though no one wants the guy who still riding hard for his set in his 30s)(I’m just teasing) (No I’m not).  Just have to adjust with the times, with apps and social media at your fingertips, the promise of “women gon be there” no longer suffices. Til then men gon be over here at happy hour with half priced apps, swiping for a date to the pop up art gallery r&b brunch day party thing. 

-Stan-

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Today’s Word is… LURK

It starts off with the most innocent of intentions, I wonder what they’re up to.  As luck would have it, they’re page is public (because who has private pages anyway, it defeats the purpose, you’re not that special B) you casually browse their IG.  Maybe they’ve let themselves go a bit, you wonder to yourself why they STILL take pics in that outfit or why they post that meme like it isn’t talking about them?  Perhaps you stumble upon a fan of theirs who seems to like and comment every picture, you go and check them out… They aren’t you. A downgrade, really. Sad.  Now you grow more inquisitive.  Wait… How long they know each other? This picture was when y’all were still together.  What’s all this ki ki ing heart eye emoji shit? Did this motherfucker cheat on you?  With this baby teethed,  ill fitting clothes wearing, reposting the same picture from a 2 year old vacation talking bout #TBT take me baaaaack, how the hell you still unattractive with a flower crown muhfucka… NOW YOU’RE PISSED.  You start thinking about that one time they got in late and had some boring story about a coworkers flat tire that you checked out of mentally because you was cleaning the DVR.  Piecing together a bunch of clues that are as worthless as Hilary 2016 merch and you feel like a jackass, retroactively.  You wish they were there right now so you can dump they ass, instead you just block them.  Fuck what they been up to.  

Moral of the story,  nothing good comes from lurking.  

Yet we seemingly can’t help ourselves.  We’re too connected, gone are the days when a guy can go out for a pack of cigarettes, go two towns over and never have to see his family again.   I’m guilty of it as well, not because I want them back or anything, I just need to see that I won the breakup. (Kidding….mostly. Of course I won. )  I’m not alone, studies say nearly 88% of people have.  We all need Jesus, clearly.  That nagging curiosity is to our detriment, soon you find yourself on Instagram looking at what they doing but ain’t got shit to post for yourself.  It becomes less about them and more about what you’re missing.  

As for the lurkee, they can be just as complicit with the things they post.  HBO’s Insecure comes to mind as it currently stands as “nice guy” revenge porn.  Since it’s a 3rd person narrative, you actually get to see the ex grieving and openly pining while he can’t hear her over all the rebound sex he’s having.  The character of Lawrence has become a cult hero because he represents the unrealistic expectation of a break up.  That same expectation one thinks they are reaching with thirst traps and snaps at the club.  With subliminal status updates and not so subtle inferences at how their living their best life. But social media is the Disney version of real life, we all are presenting our best possible selves.  (Though some are obliviously bad at this).  You won’t see the 19 other outtakes of that selfie, the crowded Spirit flight they took to Miami or other the lonely nights more in line with their reality. 

So why do we fall for it when we lurk? Why do we front on social media in the first place?  Why was Takeoff left off of Bad N Boujee?  My personal social media is fairly boring for someone who’s…Had an eventful 18 months.  Because I don’t care who sees what I’m doing. When I find myself lurking pages and ultimately getting nothing out of it (even though this one time I accidentally followed an ex and didn’t realize it until I saw her on my timeline tweeting her homegirl about how I had the audamndacity to follow her… And then per her homegirls advice I was blocked. And you know what? I earned that L…Because nothing good comes from lurking)

Perhaps it’s the allure of the unknown, if you never do the dramatic unfollowing you’d see they are every bit as boring as they’ve always been.  Or even crazier, if you’re that curious to see what they are up to, maybe you could just reach out an–

Oh. Yeah. Right.  Well,  just be wary of the accidental like then.

-Stan-

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Today’s Word is… STEAK

It was around this time last summer… 

“So how’s Tequila?” 

“Um, she’s good, but we’re… not.” 

“Oh. Ok”

My sister continued to fix up around the kitchen and mind her black ass business. But she, like our mother, was easy to read and right now she was judging the hell out of me.  I tried to make a case for myself, but the verdict was rendered.  I had gone from being in back to back long term relationships to now, well she couldn’t even keep up with them. Here today, gone tomorrow.  I got similar grief from friends, because that’s what happens when you’re single for a minute, it can’t be all of their fault,  it has to be the common denominator.  Maybe you’re not picking up on the red flags, or maybe you are looking too hard for them. 

 In relationships, we often don’t know when to hold them or when to fold them but refuse to acknowledge maybe we just aren’t good at this game.  No one thinks they’re as bad at dating as they are, just as they don’t think they are bad drivers or average cooks at best.  Men aren’t trying to hear their steak is trash.  Never mind it keeps coming out wrong and you were the only one manning the grill. 

At first,  it was rare steak.  Cold and mushy sorely disappointing.  No one likes rare steak, it’s gross and anyone who does eat it is like 2 steps from cannibalism (fight me). You didn’t purposely make rare steak, you went on one date… But they wore red; this feels too romantic.  Then they put their phone face down which clearly means they have something to hide,and had the temerity to ask what you did, so now they are after your paper… You got to run.  You just put the steak on the grill but the fire is too hot, you snatch it off… And it’s raw as hell. It don’t even look close to done.  What was you tripping about? You should’ve let it cook a little longer, but you panicked and ruined what could’ve been a fine steak.  

You learned your lesson, don’t bail too soon, and you get a new steak.  Like most people who don’t know how to cook, this time you cook on the highest setting because hotter means faster, duh.  After a few dates, the beginning of this relationship is very intense, very affectionate, a lot unearned feelings are professed.  It’s been a 8 weeks but “you’re in love”.  You’re just sure about this.  On the outside, your steak looks cooked to perfection.  In reality, it’s only been 4 minutes.  You take your steak and slice into it and the inside is still very much rare.  This is just as bad at super sketchy gold digger rare steak girl.  Once again, a good steak ruined. 

You take a minute to reflect… What is going on?  You know you know how to cook steak, you’ve had great steak before.  Medium well just the way like you like it. At least it was…but you thought it could use a wee bit more browning so you threw it back on the grill.  Then it got well done, technically ruined but edible.  Others around you say, hey maybe that steak is done but what do they know,  you just keep it on.  You didn’t mean for it to be well done but to save your ego you claim it was done purposely.  So then the steak is burnt and unsalvageable.  It’s the relationship you held on to for too long even when you knew it was probably done. You thought maybe you just needed a break, or you gave an ultimatum or you even took a major step forward and just hoped they would too.  You think things could go back to the way they was when it was good but much like that steak it doesn’t work in reverse.  The longer you hold on the worst it gets until someone finally does something unforgivable when in reality it should’ve been over long before you got there.  With that in the back of your mind, you’re a lot more cautious than you would be otherwise.  So worried about burning you barely let it cook at all… Like that’s any better. 

I think about my situation presently and how an early hiccup probably would’ve sent me running for the door but in fear of once again eating rare steak,  I decided to let it cook a little longer.  Time will tell if I actually got it right this time, all I can do is cook the way I know how and hope for the best.  

-Stan-

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Today’s Word is… EXCLUSIVE 

So once upon a time not long ago,  I was on a date with someone, let’s call her… Stacy, and we ran into a friend of hers.  They chopped it up for a second and then she introduced me, this is… *cue Jeopardy theme* “Tristan” I interjected to move this along because I don’t do awkward.  Two revelations came from this; first, she ain’t even bang with this friend of hers in the first place (why do women do this) and secondly, it was the first time she had to actually think about who the hell I was to her.  We had been kicking it for a few months, saw each other often, she even picked up a check… basically, we went together.  Or so she assumed.  She not so subtly brought it up at dinner, “next time you can just say you’re my boyfriend… Or boo…or lover…maybe bodyguard (she realized the hole she dug and recovered quickly, I liked that about her).  We decided I was her unpaid escort/spades intern and swept that “what are we” under the rug. We practically went together and that was good enough. Except… It wasn’t.  I liked someone else actually, I would later end up with that person.  Stacy never asked, I never told.  She just assumed I wasn’t interested in someone else, that was her fault.  Wasn’t like we were exclusive.  

Karma would get me back for that one, as I found myself on the wrong side of an assumed relationship.  Once again, technically she didn’t do anything wrong I never asked, she never told.  (But a WHOLE boyfriend, B. How you fail to mention you got a whole nigga. Not a date, not a hookup, an entire relationship *inhales* *exhales*).  The lesson here could be to never assume, always ask and don’t put all your eggs in one basket because no one else is.  This game cold, diversify your bonds. 2-3 years ago, Today’s word would be Assume. 

But I’m #damnnear30 now, so today’s word is exclusive.  Everyone has a basic understanding of how dating and relationships work, yet when it comes time to be accountable everyone turns into Jeff Sessions.  Asking for exclusivity has become a necessary step in the courting process, but we can all be real with ourselves for a second… It’s bullshit.  If you have to ask someone to stop dating other people, break up with their boyfriend, not sleep with an ex while you’re out of town (this didn’t happen to me it was on a Netflix show), chances are they aren’t that sure about YOU in the first place.  We operate under our free will, not titles.  We do things for the people we like, love, desire regardless of what they are to us, so why do we act as if we need to be told first when it’s convenient?  Are you a Sim? 
Are we at a point where a relationship is some big step in life?  Is this like how we created an upper middle class because the actual middle class is broke? The word “boyfriend” doesn’t sound serious but now it’s practically an engagement.  I panicked at the idea of Stacy calling me her boyfriend as if I wasn’t damn near her boyfriend.  Or is it because boyfriend engenders some level of accountability that a “bae” doesn’t.  We all the security of a relationship, with none of the responsibility of one.  So much so, we’ve extracted this whole concept of exclusivity, because you got to earn the right of me giving up options. Or something.  What do you call someone who isn’t your boyfriend but you’re dating exclusively? (Denial.) 

I knew at that dinner what Stacy wanted and I could’ve cleared the roster and made it real but I didn’t want to and I knew it then.  I did break it off not long after that.  The one I ended up with never asked were we exclusive and if she did my answer would’ve been of course because I wanted her and I’m an adult who knows how things work.  

-Stan-

  

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Today’s Word is… TINDERELLA

So I don’t do a lot of “binge watching”.  Usually I can watch an episode or two of a show and then I need to find something new to watch or do.  Every now and again a show does in fact hook me, and this past weekend it was Master of None.  It stars Aziz Ansari as Dev, a 30 year old Indian actor navigating his personal & professional life in New York City.  It’s a show of microaggressions, religion, parents who dont “get” millennials, and primarily how dating is trash.  The show is basically what Stan of Few Words as a TV series would be.  Starring Kofi Seriboe as me, cuz fuck you it’s my show.  One episode that stood out in particular was the 4th episode of season 2, First Date.  Now I’ve talked about first dates before, and I’ve talked about my online dating struggles, but that episode made me think about all my online first dates and the different types of women you meet online.  Now, I’m not going to pretend what women go through in online dating is comparable to what I went through because I don’t log on and get bombarded with pussy pictures and solicitations. (Well I did get an unsolicited video one time, I may have watched it til completion while also wondering how did we get here, nobody’s supposed to be here). I’ve never gone on dates and had to check in with a friend so they know I’m safe or been cussed out because I wasn’t interested (Well, there was one girl who ran up on me in a 7/11 because she thought I blocked her number).  Anyway, I feel like there’s 10 types of women you meet online whilst searching:

1. The Marshawn Lynch– She’s there so she doesn’t get fined.  She’s gotten out of a relationship, her man has already moved on and now her friends are imploring her to get some new eggplant because she’s making them look bad, as an unit.  She reluctantly makes a profile, but she really isn’t interested in dating.  In fact, she wishes you would be so awful that it would give credence to her decision to not date.  

2. The Brandy- She wanna be down.  She’s likes sports, video games, comics, beers, rap, casual sex and pizza.  She’s a good time, great chemistry then you get home and realize that didn’t even feel like a date, it felt like 2 friends hanging out.   You forgot to tell her she looked great, but she wore a messy bun and a Spider-Man shirt. 

3.  The Precedential- She’s the one who overanalyzes everything, she’s read all the dating books and articles and now everything means something from the color shirt you wore to whether you looked at the food or drinks first.  If you text her at 7:55 on Monday and 8:23 on Thursday clearly she wasn’t on your mind first you’re getting distant; is there something wrong?  You answered a yes or no question with one word, clearly there’s someone else.  If you rescheduling dates now, how can she rely on you as a partner? 

4. The Instagrammer- You’re about 64% sure that she only accepted the date for the photo op.  She posted a date night outfit, took pictures of the food and drinks, never of you because she has an image to uphold. She posts a goodnight picture about how she had the greatest time, meanwhile the actual date was awkward silences and bathroom breaks.  

5. The United Airline- She overbooks.  She needs to know by Tuesday if you’re on for Saturday afternoon because she has plans that evening.  She’s transparent about her schedule while failing to see how much of a turn off it can be.  

6. The Confessional- This might be the one I hate the most, the girl who waits until the date to reveal all the shit she lied about on her profile and over text.  I’ve had dates lie about children, boyfriends, age, smoking, jobs…but you already ordered and you was starving.  

7. The Culminator- The clock started from first message, by time it’s the first date she has already decided to be with you and she’ll learn the rest on the job.  

8. The Companion- You liked her, she liked you back. You message back and forth. You ask her out, she accepts. You go on a date and have a great time….but she isn’t looking for anything more than a friend. You’re not even her type, you just seemed cool.  This would be fine except you didn’t meet at work, YOU. MET. ON. A. DATING. SITE.  Who swipes right on people they aren’t interested in? That’s literally not how this works.  Probably goes to bars just to chill and drink water, ol loitering ass. 

9. The Priority- She’s been single for a while and has adjusted her life accordingly. She has her career, her family, her church, her netflix, her book clubs, her alumni groups, her sorority, her pets, her podcast, her blog, her freelance gig, her perennial self care vacations, and her long distance open relationship…then you come along and it’s apparent she has so much going on that she doesn’t even have time to date.  

10. Susan- They could have their own list honestly.  There’s “I don’t see color” Susan, “mmmm chocolate” Susan, “woke, but hates black women” Susan, “I didn’t date black guys until I didn’t lose this college weight” Susan, “I’m mixed” Susan, “Get Out was just a movie” Susan.  
*sigh* Dating is trash, yo.  I mean sure there’s silver linings, the Brandy is a good time when you hang out; with managed expectations, so is the Companion.  Perhaps, the Priority or the Marshawn will come around.  If you want a relationship (or sex) the Culminator is right there.  Maybe you can take a page out of the instagrammer’s book and just fake it all.  Apparently, there’s the 11th woman.  The one who is looking for a relationship, actually available to be in one and isn’t overly neurotic about it.  We can just call her, the Tinderella.  

-Stan- 

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