Tag Archives: differences

Confessions of a Heedless Sinner – Vol. 17

I had a purge day.  A purge day according to me, is when I realize the absurdity of “dating” a handful of people, and decide to purge out all of the non-essentials from my life in a single 24 hour period.  It’s just like when you eat too much cake and ice cream.  At first, it’s delicious and even though you know it’s bad for you, you just don’t care.  Then you embrace it for a moment.  Then you get uncomfortably full, and you’re sighing and wondering how and why you put yourself through that.  Then, you feel the sudden need to barf it all out.  You know that the process of throwing up will suck, but once you get it all out of you, you will feel much better.  Now replace too much cake and ice cream with too many boys, and that’s where I was.  I have plenty of stories about purge days, but I’ll save those for another time.  The reason I brought this up, was to inform you, the reader, that I am no longer trying to balance a million boys in my life.  I got rid of the ones whose time and energy I was wasting.  So the boy that I’m about to discuss, is in the past.  I considered skipping over this one, but I think the conclusion of it is important, and something we should all consider.

I see more and more interracial dating and I think it’s fucking fantastic.  I’m a huge advocate for dating someone who is completely different from you whether it’s religion, culture or race.

A few weeks ago I had a dinner date with thug boy.  I call him thug boy because he absolutely looks like a drug dealer.  I most certainly inform him of this notion each time I see him.  It’s still up in the air as to if he actually is a drug dealer or not.  I met him at a dive bar where I was by myself, bumming a cigarette off of a bum (not kidding), drinking Budweiser bottles and whiskey and pounding out a five paragraph essay for my Muslim co-workers.  My thesis was that pigs in their natural state are not any more or less “unclean” than any other meat.  If you’d like more information on that topic, I’ll send you my essay!  I’m not sure why I was wasting my time on this because they can’t exactly read English.  I’m just addicted to useless knowledge.  Anyway, the thug walked right up to me and my brightly lit laptop and asked me if he could buy me a drink.  I had about eight ounces of whiskey still in my glass (this bar does not fuck around with pours), so I was definitely good on the drinks for at least another paragraph.

To be perfectly honest, in the first couple of seconds I did kind of blow him off.  I was in the writing zone and I was just not trying to talk to anyone that night.  I even wore my hat, which I do when I haven’t washed my hair in a week.  Also, I am convinced that my hair is the only reason why boys initially think that they like me, so my theory is that if it’s semi covered, they won’t try to hit on me.  A few seconds later though, and he had my mild attention.  Mostly because he took the rejection the way that men should.  I told him that I’m good on a drink for now, and that I’m just trying to get some work done.  He said that he hopes I have a successful night writing, and that if I would like to have another drink, it’s on him, and then he walked away to go finish up his pool game and smoke black & milds.

He was perfectly polite and didn’t say something fucking stupid like, “I’d like to see that beautiful smile more,” or “You sure, girl?  I could help you with your writing,” so I was intrigued.  Those are the lame lines I’m used to getting.  Still, I let him walk away and I finished up my essay and then just sipped the remainder of my whiskey and wondered why it’s Swiss guards that guard the Vatican.  That can be my next essay.  I packed up my backpack and was mentally committed to leaving, but thug boy was right at my twelve o’ clock, so I felt compelled to say hi/bye.  I walked over to him and of course it didn’t turn into a goodbye.  It turned into a fun twenty minute conversation where we laughed about how my wallet looks like it belongs to a Grandpa, and how Patron is for posers.

Then he asked me the inevitable question… “do you date black guys?”

I can depend on getting that question from just about every black guy who hits on me.  It’s not so much sad to me as it is just utterly baffling!  Maybe if we were living in backward town Mississippi, I would understand that question, but not here, in Tampa, Florida amongst young people!  Apparently though, plenty of girls do say that no, they don’t date black guys.  What the fuck.  What in the hell is wrong with everyone?  First of all, don’t you people know that mixed babies are the prettiest!  I take that as an evolutionary sign that races are intended to mix.  They take on the best genes of both races.  Shit, I would consider mixed people the elite!

When I ask the black boys that I date if they are offended when girls say no they don’t date black guys, they tell me that “No, it’s cool.”  What?!  No it’s not fucking cool and I’m not sure that I believe them that they’re not offended.  With that being said, I understand not being able to grow in a relationship due to cultural differences.  For example, the thug boy grew up in the projects, and I see how having a boyfriend who grew up so differently than me, would most likely leave us with difficulties being able to relate to one another.  It’s not because he’s black, it’s because it would be hard to understand each other in the long run.  Just as it would be difficult to relate to a white guy who grew up golfing and with a Senator for a father.  However, we should all still try!  This is the answer to world peace… understanding each other.  The same applies for any cultures.  I love dating people who are completely different from me, because you end up bonding over your differences instead of your similarities and that can be a very fun and ultimately mind-expanding experience.

On our first date, I was laughing when he was rolling his eyes because the only Drake song I know is that one from years ago called Take Care which features Rihanna.  He said, “Oh man, I’m going to have my hands full with how white you are.”  I punched his arm and stated, “I looked like such a fucking hipster with that stupid floppy beanie on the night we met!  You knew exactly what you were approaching!”  He laughed and agreed and then said something about “black culture” at the same time that he refused to let me open the restaurant door.  Not because I’m a lady, but because of germs, to which I shouted, “Now THAT is a black culture thing!  You guys are all germaphobes!”  He almost spit out his chocolate milk (which he made a special trip to a corner store for) laughing. I totally stand by that claim by the way.  Most black people I know are weird about germs.

About a week after that, he invited me over to watch documentaries and drink mango flavored vodka with him.  Which I of course found hilarious.  We ended up talking through the documentaries.  Naturally, sex got brought up, and it is important to note that at this point, him and I had not even held hands, let alone kiss or anything.  During our discussion, I think we both realized that we approach sex VERY differently, and we were both fascinated by the other’s perspective.  It became crystal clear that our sexual history is polarizing when he said somewhat out of nowhere,”So you don’t go down on guys?”

Me:  “Ummm yeah, sure I do.  Sometimes.”

Thug: “Oh, okay.  You just don’t seem like you would.”

I’m pretty good at reading people, and the way he said that, I immediately knew that he was absolutely not used to a girl coming over and not performing oral sex on him right away.  Of course, I just blatantly asked.

Me: “So most girls you hang out with, if they were in this exact same situation, they would just pull your pants down right now?”

Thug: “Ummm yeah.”

Now, here is where I think my lesson about getting to know people far different from you truly comes into play.  I could have easily taken offense and stormed out the door, disgusted with his overtly sexist expectations.  However, because I DO get to know all types of people, I understood that he wasn’t being rude, he was just being honest and equally as eager as myself to attempt to understand each other’s vastly different approaches toward romance and relationships.  I respected him and I could tell he respected me, and I knew that he KNEW I wasn’t going to go down on him.  This was the mutual, unspoken moment when we became just friends.

Me: “So even if you have never kissed a girl, she would do that.”

Thug: “Yeah.  I don’t really kiss.”  Pause.  I was baffled.  He continued, “You like make-out with people?”

Me: “Um, yeah!  And I think you need to recognize that you are absolutely the abnormal one in this situation.  I’m pretty sure it’s safe to say that most people round the bases in order.  You can’t just run to third base!”

He laughed.

Nothing happened that night.  Obviously.  We had an eye-opening conversation and I left.  The point I think I am trying to make is, although nothing romantic is going to come between him and I because we are too different, I think that we are both better off for getting to know each other.  We’ve actually hung out a couple of times since then as just friends and it was cool.  It’s so crucial to understand people who are different from you.  It makes you smarter, more well-rounded and ultimately a better person.  I took the time to get to know a guy who is very religious, he only listens to rap and hip hop and wears white jeans sometimes.  He also thinks kissing is foreign and he is probably a drug dealer.  He took the time to get to know a little white girl hipster and I think our eagerness to do that is saying something respectable about both of our characters’.  I just realized, after writing this whole thing, that THAT is what we have in common.  Ultimately, we had good conversation because of our differences, but we bonded because of our innate similarities, and I like to think that we are both better for it.

 

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