Tag Archives: Stan

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… GEMINI 

When you tell her, you’re a Gemini…

So my birthday is in 3 weeks (ahem PayPal. Me/AyoTristan …kidding kidding, unless you gon do it), that makes me a Gemini.  I never read that much into astrology, maybe I’d read a horoscope in the newspapers on my morning commute but that was about it.  All I knew was Geminis were two sides, I always viewed it (correctly) as nuanced. It wasn’t until I started dating that I realized Geminis cause people to run for the hills and touch the bridge behind them.  Granted, some of the most notable Geminis include Kanye West and #YallMans so I can see that the property value on Gemini Island isn’t looking too great.  So allow me to try and defend my sign from all from all of these alternative facts because yall don’t have the answers Sway. 

I’ll cop to some of the stereotypes; I think too much, feel too little, bore too easily.  I’ll get an idea and not follow through, because I have another idea I need to follow through on.  I’m susceptible to whirlwind romances, because I’m wooed easily by witty banter.  I’ll tell you it’s fine while planning my actual solution. Whether I’m right or not, you’re probably not going to win an argument with me anyway.  Other ones, not so much.  Geminis are usually considered extroverts, while I’m an INFJ.  (Yes that makes me an intuitive introverted extrovert that adjusts his emotions based on a vibe you may or may not even be aware you’re giving…but I mean, at least I’m smart).  It’s not that I’m unable to be social, it’s moreso its really apparent when I don’t feel like it. (white coworkers however, completely oblivious to this and will continue to make fetch happen) 
The other common misconception is being two faced, when most of the time we are simply adjusting to the situation at hand, very efficiently.  I remember working in sales and being excellent and awful at the same damn time; if you were interested I could sell you anything, if you weren’t…then why was you still here, I could actually be selling to a willing customer.  Being pushy and persistent for the sake of doing so didn’t make much sense to me.  For who, for what? (I didn’t last long in sales). Dating not much different, walk out once and I’ll probably change the locks behind you.  That ability to shut down and move on quickly feels like there wasn’t much investment in the first place, when really its just “okay this is what this is now”,  make the necessary and keep it moving.  I wouldn’t even say I’m hot and cold, I’m hot then cold.  Then maybe lukewarm at best. But you remember how hot this used to be and can’t get used to this, you’re out and now YOU hate geminis because they are wishy-washy.  

Geminis are seen non-committal, simply because when you can see all sides of something, how do you then pick one.  Growing up in a house with 3 sisters, I mastered the art of simply articulating both their points and getting out the way before they realized I didn’t actually give an answer.  Hell, I just did it the other day when my boys got into a LeBron vs Jordan debate.  Depending on the day, time, weather, and what color I’m wearing my answer will probably change.  

So why is there so much hateration, holleration, in the Gemini’s dancery? Is it really just a matter of uncertainty?  Or the idea of being everything to everyone just on its face feels fake and disingenuous. Perhaps it’s the pressure to keep one mentally stimulated… Or maybe y’all just some low bottom haters. 

-Stan-

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Today’s Word is… APPRENTICE 

Previously on the Trumpocalypse:

Wait, wtf you mean he won?

The Cheeto-Elect

The NAHguration

Don’t Trust Race Bannon!

“Issa Con”

4/1/17 (Day 145)- Last year on April Fool’s Day I posted a picture in a wedding band with no context.  When it escalated to the point that my pastor grandfather was congratulating me, it was like okay, party’s over.  I wake up today and Donald Trump, the duck facing billionaire from the Apprentice, is the President of the United States and it feels like a joke that’s gone too far.  Like, we can’t seriously have him meeting with other world leaders, he can’t actually be our commander-in-chief, this didn’t ACTUALLY happen right?  I guess I’m waiting for this Russian hammer to fall so he gets put away and we go back to normalcy.  President Trump still feels like an oxymoron to me.  My President is Frank Underwood.

4/3/17 (Day 147)- One of the few things, I’ve enjoyed throughout this is watching the internet fall in love with Maxine Waters.  As other Dems have made their peace with the idea that America elected a con man, she seems to be the only one who is like “Nah, this shit isn’t normal”.  Toupee Fiasco rose to power on,”there’s no time to be politically correct” so it’s only fitting his detractors don’t just bow down out of respect for the office and call him out on his BS.  (glances over at “revolutionary” Bernie Sanders and his hive).  At 78, it’s much too late for an Auntie Maxine 2020 shirt but she has been a silver lining throughout all of this.  Favorite Maxine since Shaw.   (She’s a Living Single character, white readers….basically it was our version of Friends…that happened to air first…funny how that happens, huh?)


4/6/17 (Day 150)- So we just bombed Syria for bombing Syrians to send a message to not bomb Syrians, and for having bombs in Syria in the first place.  The very thing Orange Foolius warned President Obama not to do. (Apparently, before deciding to take up Presidency as a hobby all he did was tweet out hot takes like a political Skip Bayless which no one paid attention to because why would we care what the guy from The Apprentice thought about anything this important is what we said to ourselves in 2013…yet here we are *sigh*).

4/7/17 (Day 151) PLOT TWIST: Syria knew it was coming and got anything valuable out of the way.  Because Russia tipped them off.  Meanwhile, our state department found out the same time we did.  By the way, Nacho Nazi ordered this strike from his vacation home while hosting the President of China and discussing North Korea.  Again, we can’t have the guy from the Apprentice doing important things? This is precisely what I was talking about.  Lettuce prey.

4/8/17 (Day 152)- Neil Gorsuch confirmed.  Sometimes I wonder why Democrats don’t act more like Republicans, money hungry, masochist, corrupt as they may be…they get shit done.  They deboed President Obama’s constitutional right to name a Supreme Court Justice, just because they could.  The fact that the Supreme fucking Court has become political is disheartening and scary.  Someone check on Ruth Bader Ginsberg, get her some fruit or something.

4/11/17 (Day 155)- I’m at the gym, headphones in I glance up at the TV and I see the headline “Presidential Mis-Spokesman”.  I thought oh its the Daily Show; nope CBS Evening News with Scott Pelley.  Even the unbiased network news mocks this administration. Again, it all feels like a joke that has carried on too long.  Also…shouldn’t Spicer be better at his job.  Fox News has built an empire on lies and hyperbole. Meanwhile, Mango Mussolini managed (alliteration ftw) to find the one dude who is as unfit for his job as he is.  
4/13/17 (Day 157)- So, remember how I was saying we don’t need to have the guy from the Apprentice doing important things?  Twitter-Fingers-in-Chief just dropped a MOAB, a bomb so obnoxiously large I’m shocked it didn’t have “Trump” on it, on Afghanistan.  In true Trump fashion, full of sound and fury but signifying nothing.   Meanwhile, he didn’t even remember he bombed Syria last week, however he remembers the chocolate cake he had for dessert that night.  I just…..where is Mike Pence?
4/15/17 (Day 159)- Perhaps, an unpopular opinion….I don’t give a fuck about 2pée Shakur’s tax returns.  Especially when he’s bombed 2 countries in 2 weeks while threatening another.  It’s like the Chicago protest, or the women’s march…do it when it matters.  What will you do if he never releases his tax returns…not elect him? Because I mean, he didn’t and well, we saw what happened.  Not much unlike Drake after the ghostwriter rumors; he dared you to care and you didn’t.  So take your ass home. Hug your family.  (Because North Korea ain’t playing) Happy Easter.

4/19/17 (Day 163)- I didn’t expect Tom Brady to make the trip to the White House; he may have “He’s my friend” money, but Giselle got “go sit your ass down somewhere” money. Big bank take little bank.  It made me wonder if I would actually turn down an invitation to the White House.  I would be half curious what he would have to say to me, but half afraid of what I would say to him.  The way he just effortlessly lies to people’s faces it would drive me up the wall.  Maybe I’d just go for the experience and pretend I was there in 2016.

4/21/17 (Day 165)- It’s futile to compare President Obama and Sunkist Stalin at this point; they not in the same league don’t shoot at the same basket.  However as Trump nears the 100 day mark, the failure is epic.  William Henry Harrison might’ve gotten more done in his first 100 days and he was dead for 69 of them.  100 days in of Obama, we had the Lilly Ledbetter act for equal pay, the stimulus package, 19 executive orders.  100 days of Tweety Bird, he’s done nothing of what he’s promised.  Because of course he didn’t.  Objectively speaking, the 100 day mark IS not a great measuring tool, FDR set an unrealistic bar in very desperate times.  However, Trump has simply tried and failed spectacularly no wall, no ban, no tax reform, no infrastructure only thing he has done was pick a Supreme Court justice he had no business picking in the first place.
4/24/17 (Day 168)- He’s baaaaack.  After taking months to live his best life like an ex girlfriend would, President Obama has returned to the US almost on cue as we near 100 days of ineptitude under the great Trumpkin.  It’s almost like that scene in Lion King when Simba returns to Pride Rock and it’s all desolate.  Simba at least got to fight for his spot back, Obama just about to hit us with the

and keep it moving.  Honestly, as he should…I wouldn’t even come back. 

 
4/28/17 (Day 178)- LIKE. CLOCKWORK. Obama has been back in the public eye for a few days and suddenly people are losing their minds over a reported $400K speaking fee for a Wall Street firm.  Nevermind the actual President is currently rolling back regulations (that Obama put in place) that make it possible for these firms to blow $400K on a pep talk in the first place. Nevermind it costs $400K to protect the first lady because she just doesn’t feel like living with her husband.  Nope, let’s hold private citizen Obama to a higher standard than President Business.  It’s like no one learned from caring so much about emails they ignored Russian collusion.  Have we learned nothing?  Apparently so.  

4/29/17 (Day 179)- We’ve reached the official 100th Day.  And it turns out…he didn’t do anything he promised. Apparently, he didn’t realize it would be this difficult.  It’s like that show Pros vs Joes, when they would put self proclaimed great athletes against retired professional athletes and it went over about as well as you expected.  That’s Trump, he talked all that talk on Twitter and now he’s in the chair way out of his element, because he’s not a politician. He’s the guy from the Apprentice.  God help us all.
-Stan-

 

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Today’s Word is… STANDARDS

[Editors Note: Issa throwback…well, with a director’s cut.]


Attractive. Educated. Independent. Sweet. Confident. Compassionate.
(I just described most of my exes. Hell, I just described me.) 

Minimal baggage. Career. Non smoker. Social or not Drinker. Been in long term relationship. Classy.
(Still got most of my exes, a few eliminated, i’m still there)

Knows how to cook. Hair stays done. Always groomed. Puts it down in the sheets. Sense of style.  Body’s stacked.
(Still got some of my exes…no self respecting man will call themselves stacked, that’s where I bow out.)

5’9 and under. In shape.  Knows how to defer to a man. No trust issues. Diversified interests. Mentally stimulating. Great chemistry.
(I’m hearing chatter…now who do I think I am, what am I bringing to the table)

Low maintenance. Good with hanging out at home. Understands discretion.  Can make lasagna. Open minded in the bedroom. Wants kids. Fiscally responsible.
(This negreaux think he Idris or something…)

Standards are funny, as are the people love/hate them. No one ever has issue with standards unless it inconveniences them.  I don’t care that if you’re only chasing 6’4 lightskinned dudes you’re going to miss out on great guys, I care that I’m not 6’4 or lightskinned and I will never be, therefore I’m not invited to that table.  I didn’t want to sit there but now that I can’t, suddenly I want to sit there?  For who, for what? My list was very p.c, however if I got my mac on (You ever read something you wrote years ago and roll your eyes at how lame you were…this was one of those times) and said I want an exotic chick, hourglass figure, all natural…sistas would come for my head.  Reason #1, they’ll be damned if I don’t want them even if they don’t want me cuz…principality. Reason #2, who the hell am I to have such strong demands.

As you get older, and still single suddenly your standards are too blame.  The Beast could’ve let Belle just go have brunch with her girls and they would’ve told her that he’s tall AND has a whole castle, dont. block. ya. blessings. and she’d probably go right back.  Men don’t get it nearly as hard, I can probably hand wring myself to loneliness until at least 33.  Men aren’t told they are being unreasonable, or they are expecting perfection even when they are.  I have a homeboy who for the most part splurges on instajawns and to my knowledge never had an actual girlfriend.  I’m sure his mama might ask, but no one else cares.

Your standards represent you, your priorities, your traits, your aspirations.  It shows if you’re looking to just be treated good, f cked right, or want an actual relationship.  It shows your self confidence and what you believe you bring to the table.  Women say that men are constantly pestering them to lower their standards to accommodate them; I’m actually the opposite, show me you demand all that.  This goes both ways, you can’t be all over the club scene and social media and then demand someone who isn’t all over the club scene and social media.  You can’t demand a woman who’s cultured when all you watch is sports and action movies.  You can’t demand a man with his own place and a car when you staying at a homegirl’s and working part time.  I mean you can demand but spoiler alert, it won’t work out well for you.  Those independent, ambitious people you seek…well, they want other independent ambitious people.
There has to be some accountability for who you choose to let into your life, who you expect to come into your life and how they’re treated when they’re there.  The time spent on people who aren’t on “your level” adds up. It’s a lesson I’m still learning, my phone just full of women who I know weren’t what I was looking for, but #Ihaveneeds.  I can’t be taken seriously if I’m not taking my own standards seriously.  I know what I want and I’m not settling for less (maybe a few things, the lasagna game is non negotiable tho), in the meantime I #minuswhale use my time as productively as possible so I become the offer she can’t refuse.
-Stan-

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Today’s Word is… SPAM

WHERE. IS. THE. FOUL?!?!


June 6, 1999.  The day I won’t forget (okay I googled it but still).  It was the Indiana Pacers versus the New York Knicks.  My mother, an Indiana native loved her Pacers, so in turn I loved them too like you would that cousin who is a little too old to be hanging with you but y’all still had to kick it when they came over. So the game is going to the wire, my mother is stressed, about a bunch of more important things, but this game wasnt helping.  I really wanted her to have this one, just for a night.  So, I prayed for the Pacers to pull it out.  Then the improbable happened…Larry Johnson, forward for the Knicks, goes up for the 3, drains it and gets called for the foul. (Ain’t no one even touch his ass) A four point play, the Knicks would win.  It was like God himself was like, “stop playing on my phone, B”.  I haven’t rooted for the Pacers since, even when they went the Finals that next year. (Sorry Ma).  
At that tender age of 9, I learned don’t be out here praying for silliness. (I’ve also spoken on my struggles with prayer more earnestly here).  Many people never got that lesson, every tense sporting event you see fans praying in the stands, for the result of a game that has little to no effect on their lives, except maybe that dude with the gambing addiction who probably bet his mortgage on the game…really sucks to be that guy.  However, even for him his prayers are probably going unanswered. Why? Because our God has other things to do, sports fan prayers are definitely going in His spam folder.  I would say His spam folder consists of:

– Aforementioned sports fans prayers

– R Kelly’s “U Saved Me” album

– Anything from Eddie Long (What, too soon?) or molester catholic priests

– Prayer for something bad to befall someone (besides, that’s what karma is for)

– His name said in vain during the throws of passion

– That time OJ Simpson thanked God like he didn’t kill 2 people

– Prayers for your cousin to get out of jail like he didn’t kill 2 people

– Prayers for something to happen to the teacher because your behind ain’t study

–  Prayers the test is negative even though you know she wasn’t cheating

– Writing “amen” on some Facebook post even though you have no idea if it’s true or not

– Prayers for Creflo Dollar to get his jet

–  Grace said with a mouth full of food (yeah I said it)

– This.

Prayer warrior gon’ pray


– Prayer for someone’s wickedness when everyone knows you just being shady, Sister Audrey 
– That ignant prayer from Baby Boy

That time Jay Z won the Grammy and said he wanted to thank God a little bit

– Whatever that shorty in Mary Mary said before she shot up that car

– Everything Pastor Ma$e said after he became Murda Ma$e again

– Those “thoughts and prayers” tweets from members of Congress after a mass shooting when they refuse to do anything about gun control

– Prayers for her to come back when you both know you ain’t changed

I mean every now and again you can slip one by, you made to work and back with your tank on E.  Maybe some sports fans did slip one by because the Cubs are defending champions. And now Trump is (their) President. See what happens? Stop playing on His phone, B.  

-Stan-

 

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Today’s Word is… TALE

My life is a comedy of errors sometimes. Every now and again, I find myself in situations and I can only laugh because of course it would happen to me.  Gather round boys and girls, its story time.

*cues Story to Tell instrumental*

So I’m at a happy hour with some folks, I meet…let’s call her Nancy.  Nancy and I hit it off, she was an engineer of sorts did something I wasn’t smart or sober enough to comprehend.  She talked abut how she loved to travel but that’s what every woman says.  Her and her homegirl are about to take off, she’s like okay so what’s your instagram?  *record scratch* Like I remember I saw that in an episode of Atlanta but I didn’t know this happened in real life.  So in my head I’m like issa curve.  The next day she DMs me like I forgot to give you my number.  Curve reversed. Iight bet. So anyway, I don’t really use it because I’m me. (and I got a man crate so I think I’m seeing someone but that’s another story for another time). Anyway, Nancy would hit me up randomly,  we have casual conversation.  Then one day, she’s like hey I’m doing an event in your area would you like to come?  I’m like sure why not.

She sends me the address, it’s the dance studio down the street.  I go and she’s really happy to see me, a little weird because we barely speak outside of quick convos but hey.  She introduces me to a bunch of people, and because it’s a studio there’s music going everyone is just dancing amongst themselves, it’s like a scene in Step Up.  So then the music stops, and everyone heads downstairs, there’s a bunch of chairs around a projector. I’m like okay her event, I figure it’s some sort of community service project of sorts.  There’s plenty of chairs she comes and sits on my lap.  Again, kinda weird but I just roll with it.  Then, this dude I met earlier gets up to speak….

…it’s a Pyramid Scheme.

So, I’m trapped.  I sit through the presentation. I hear all the red flags and I can’t help but judge her. (Again, she’s an engineer).  So at the end she pulls out her phone like so I think we should do it. (She was clearly in one of the photos).  I’m like…uh…I’m not quite sure.   Some other sucker signed up as a platinum member at that, everyone gets up to hug him and welcome him to the family.  This is beyond a pyramid scheme this feels a little culty.  I get up and ready to slide out, Nancy is like if we do it together we get half off or something, I’ve done sales I know game when I see game. I excuse myself to go the bathroom…she follows me upstairs.  Posts up by the door.  If there was a window I might’ve considered going for it.  So because I don’t do awkward well, I’m like I need to sleep on it.  She’s like well, I can sign you up and you pay me back.  She really didnt wanna be saved but I did. Told her I actually needed to sleep on it.  I get a text from a  random number, like “welcome to the family”.  She didn’t. She couldn’t.  “I hope you don’t mind but some people wanted your number.” She did.

So then we leave I walk her to her car, she gives me some literature and leans for a kiss goodnight.  I give her cheek and I never wanted to get home more.  The remainder of the night I would wonder if I was the mark or if she really liked me as I was flooded with texts from members of the travel cult.  I don’t know if she lied to her “family” or actually signed me up to save face and well, I tried to save her from herself.  They seemed like cool people outside of the whole cult thing, but I’ll just stick to the savings and fare glitches I’m used to. Nancy has hit me up since, I haven’t had much to say.  I guess travel cult pyramid scheme is a dealbreaker.  And so concludes my tale of how I almost maybe might could be in a cult. Or may possibly end up on People’s Court.  Hopefully, Judge Judy…she’d definitely take my side. Because this is just how my life is sometimes.  Escaping through the window would’ve been a funnier ending tho.

-Stan-

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Today’s Word is… FLYOUT

true love story unlike any other…Boy tweets girl. Girl tweets boy. Boy DMs Girl. Girl gives Boy her number. Boy likes Girl. Boy lives at A. Girl lives at B.  Boy invites Girl to A.  Boy and Girl do adult things. Boy drives Girl to Gate.  Girl misses Boy. Girl intentionally misses flight to be with Boy. Boy has plans. Boy thought he was done with Girl. Boy ignores Girl.  Girl shows up at his place. Boy still ignores Girl.  Boy calls cops.  Girl is escorted away. Girl tells Twitter. Twitter laughs. Boy tells his side. Twitter laughs. Twitter loves no one. 

Flyout horror stories for whatever reason are pretty common on Twitter.   While I would never set myself up for that type of failure, others need to vent to somebody, anybody, and Twitter is always open.  The most common theme is being left stranded or after you fall out talk about how wack the sex was or how filthy the crib was that you clearly had no issue having sex in. (They always miss the irony in that).  In this day and age, meeting someone you met online is more common (because these days some women don’t ever want to be approached, looked at or thought about in real life).  As much as I enjoy a good flyout disaster story with my cup of coffee in the morning, I wish people would be smarter about it and follow the Flyout guidelines.

1. Stop leaving your house without money.  Didn’t your mama, auntie, hairdresser, neighbor, favorite reality TV star tell you this.  No matter how many facetimes, texts, and naked pictures you’ve shared, this is still a first date.   Act accordingly.  Have enough to get home, have enough to get a room.  

2. State your intentions. All of them. Be adults about the whole thing.  About sex and the relationship going forward.  You don’t want to fly out and end up in their dungeon or end up on Maury.  Get tested, wrap it up.  Be real about what happens next, is this something that’s sustainable or was “New Orleans just New Orleans”.   If you’re not looking for a relationship, let them know before you meet.  If you are looking for a relationship, let them know before you meet. Don’t play with people’s feelings, and more importantly, their bread. 

3. Get a hotel- You don’t know them.  They don’t know you. More importantly, you don’t know how clean their bathroom is.  If things break bad you can play sick, go home and know they can safely find their way back without you (Sorry.)  At least for the first meeting, then after that you just look married as hell

4. Neutral site- Perhaps just a personal preference of mine, if I’m paying for a flight, hotel, dinner….why not make a trip out of it?  (and Boston kinda small).Find a city convenient for both and meet up there, explore together.  

5. He goes first- Recurring theme here, let him court.  If he’s bout that life, he’ll make the time, effort and trip to see you.  Even if it’s on Spirit. Okay, maybe not.  If you just happen to be in town….iight bet, but just don’t miss your flight. See opening anecdote. 

Sounds reasonable, right?  Treat the stranger you’re meeting from the internet to have sex with like a stranger from the internet you’re meeting to sex with, but that’s too pragmatic I suppose.  This is ebae, you have feelings, you trust them, they’re different yada yada yada.  Where is the line between being too trusting and too cautious?   Prepare for the worst, hope for the best.  If you’re going to do it, do it, with an open mind and an open heart. And if it does go bad, tell your friends. Don’t take the L on Twitter.  Because again, Twitter loves no one. Carpe DM tho.

-Stan-

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