I’VE GOT A SECRET
As I drove along I-695 I couldn’t help but to think about the events that had just transpired. A chill raced down my back. Sometimes you just never know about people.
I wish women could just wear a sign. It would make things easier. It would make things…simple. Dating is already hard enough without stuff happening like this. My heart began to race a little faster. It scared me to confront my own fear. It wasn’t something that I was used to doing.
For all my supposed intelligence, I was still susceptible to making idiotic mistakes. But I really couldn’t take the blame for this one. How was I supposed to know? However, this “almost” error in judgment would have been costly and haunted me for the rest of my life. Thank God for the constant reappearance of the human conscious.
This ordeal began coincidently on the night of my birthday. I had just turned 33. And there I was, once again, spending this day alone. Sometimes I don’t know how that happens. My phone book was about 50-60 names deep. Hell, I’ve forgotten more women than some dudes have met in a lifetime, but still I could be dateless on a Friday night; better yet a Friday night on my birthday.
For the past decade or so, I’ve never made plans on my birthday. It was always the responsibility of the person I was seeing at the time. It would be up to HER to coordinate an event or activity on my birthday. Shit, I would do the same in return. But sometimes even the coolest chick that I knew would somehow lame up on me on my birthday. And that in my book is an unforgivable transgression. Forgetting the kid’s birthday is a one-way ticket to “Delete’s Ville” – population: You.
This particular birthday night, I gave everybody a grace period of up until 8 p.m. to get at me. Beyond that, I was free-styling it. No calls came. Free-style it was then.
Every 3rd Friday of the month there was a group from the devil’s playground (a.k.a. Black Planet) that gave these Meet-N-Greet parties at the Holiday Inn near my home. The Meet-N-Greet parties were definitely part of the good that existed on Black Planet. The parties, mostly attended by the squares, who truly joined the site to network, were always fun affairs. Good music and semi-sane attendees. I had learned about the Meet-N-Greet party in Baltimore some time ago when I used to attend the Meet-N-Greet party in DC {side note: I had to stop attending the party in DC after my relationship with one of the event’s organizer went sour – see: chick in DC with the sleigh bed (lol)}. So that particular night I spent my birthday at the Meet-N-Greet party.
Much to my dissatisfaction, that particular night’s party was rather lame. It was the first one I had went to where hardly anyone showed up. The pickings were slim that night, so I pulled the number of this one older brawd, who lived in Silver Spring. Any other night and she wouldn’t have seen the light of day, but like I said – the pickings were slim. Realizing that this party would’ve required a séance to revive it from the being dead, I decided to call up my cousins to see what they were up to on a Friday night in Baltimore.
I hollered at my big cuz Rick to see what he was doing and he informed me that he, my cousin Tony, Lou and Mike were heading to the Corinthian Lounge near my crib. Corinthians was Rick’s spot. But he wasn’t alone. Corinthians was also the spot of another person who had a spot in my life – my ex-wife. It was the very spot that she met her current boyfriend. At some point she had become a regular at the place. So I told my cousins that I would meet them at Corinthians after I left the Holiday Inn.
The two spots were in very close proximity to each other, so it took me no time to get there. I actually beat my cousins there, so I decided to go in and take a seat at the bar and have a drink while I wait. I was in some kinda funk sitting there at the bar. There were sexy half dressed women all around me, but somehow they were invisible to me. At that moment, nothing seemed to garner any kind of response from me. Not the music, not the women, not the cigarette smoke (which hovered at eye level like a fallen cloud) not the cold beer sitting before me – nothing. I sat entranced and engulfed within the beginning stages of, dare I say it, self pity. But then a hand on my shoulder snapped me back to reality.
“Happy birthday Serial,” the woman said softly into my ear. It was a voice that I recognized. I turned around and was greeted by the familiar smile of my ex-wife. At least someone remembered. A return smile attempted to materialize across my face.
Serial Dater: Hey what’s good Kay.
Cheater ex-wife: Nothing much. I saw you come in and I wanted to stop by and say hello.
Serial Dater: I shoulda figured you’d be here. You here alone?
Cheater ex-wife: No I’m here with HIM. He’s sitting over there. {I looked in the direction in which she pointed and saw my replacement}.
Serial Dater: He let you come over here to talk to me?
Cheater ex-wife: Nope. I told him I was going to the bathroom. And then I snuck over here to talk to you.
Serial Dater: I see.
Cheater ex-wife: You look good. Very handsome {smiling}
Serial Dater: Thanks {awkward}
Cheater ex-wife: Well I better get back over there before he comes looking for me. Happy birthday Serial.
And like that she was gone – again. That would be the last I would see of her that night (not that I wanted to see more). I was officially more depressed than I started out. But just at the point I was about to put the gun to my head, my fam came thru the door. Things would be so much better from that point. My cousins were hardcore drinkers and on more than one occasion Rick and his crew (Lou & Mike) had been thrown out of Corinthians by police force. Shit, I needed something exciting to happen.
The moment my cousins came in the door it seemed as though the place came alive. They were boisterous, flirtatious, aggressive, friendly and assholes all at the same time. And they knew everybody. Despite the spot being crowded, they immediately set up shop at the end of the bar and the rounds started flowin’. I didn’t have to buy another drink that night. Instantaneously, I was back to being the old me and for the first time actual noticed how many brawds was up in that piece. Time for some action.
I ended up getting three phone numbers that night. But it would be the last of the three that was the most interesting. She was short with medium length hair, had a brown skin complexion, very cute and enough ass for her and friend. This is going to sound odd, but she looked like a girlfriend. She looked like a girl that belonged to someone (if that makes sense). But lucky me – she didn’t. We hit it off immediately. Come to find out, she was feeling me as much as I was feeling her. We talked for the rest of the night until the joint closed. We even continued the conversation outside – well until the parking lot was cleared. She drove, so her girlfriends were pissed to say the least. One of them even shouted while we talked, “Damn, just get his number and call him later.” So she did.
I hadn’t even made it home that night when she called me at about 2:30 a.m. We talked for another 30 minutes. We ended the conversation with plans to see one another real soon. The next day, I had a date with someone else, but I can’t remember with whom or where the date took place. All I know is that the chick stalled me on the draws that night and I left to go home a lil disappointed. As I drove home I remembered ole gurl from the night before at Corinthians. I remembered she lived downtown Baltimore and I was quickly approaching downtown. I called her up to see if she would be up for some company. After some convo and convincing, she told me to come on over.
I got there in no time. She lived in a town house between John Hopkins University and the “Jects.” Her neighborhood was borderline dangerous. But it was all good. I threw on the truck alarm and went inside to see what was up with Ms. Phat booty.
The first thing I noticed as I entered her living room was that she had a computer and desk set up in the corner. Her computer was on, so I casually strolled over to check it out. It was eating me alive, so I had to ask her. “Are you on Black Planet?” She was like yes; I have a page on there. I asked her to pull up her page and then we viewed mine. Just as I had suspected we had exchanged notes on the site before. Small world I suppose. Throw in the Internet and it becomes even smaller. We had a good laugh about the whole Black Planet thing and then went to take a seat on the couch.
The conversation was flowing lovely and then the next thing you know we were bustin’ slob like two teenagers under the bleachers on prom night. Things we definitely getting heating up. Before we both knew what was happening, I had her shirt and bra off and was doing my best impression of a new born. There was some major wood happening in my jeans, so I started to slide down her jogging pants. That’s when she yelled out, “Wait!”
Ms. Phat Booty: Serial there’s something I have to tell you. Something very important.
Serial Dater: Whazzup? Cause I got a condom in my pocket {me- puzzled}.
Ms. Phat Booty: It’s not that. There’s something you really need to know before we continue and things go too far.
Oh shit. :o(
Nothing but bad news was coming behind that statement. I’ve never heard a woman utter those words and then told me something great. Immediately, my erection began to subside. The pained look on her face told the whole story. There was something wrong with her and it was tied to sex. I sat up on the couch and prepared myself for the whopper she was about to tell me.
Ms. Phat Booty: Some time ago I used to be involved with a guy that I cared a great deal about. We were together a few years and he cheated on me. There came a time when I noticed wrong with me so I went to the doctors to get it checked out. The doctor said that I had contracted herpes. I hadn’t been with anyone else but my boyfriend and we didn’t use condoms. And I know for a fact that he cheated on me, so I had to have gotten it from him. I confronted him with it and he tried to deny I got it from him. He was later diagnosed with herpes too.
Serial Dater: Wow. That’s really messed up.
Ms. Phat Booty: We’ve been broken up for years and I’ve been left with trying to deal with this. I wanted to wait to tell you this. I wanted us to get to know one another first and then I would’ve told you. I wanted you to see that I’m still a good person and that I have a lot to offer. But tonight, things happened quickly and we took it there far earlier than I planned to. So I had to tell you right away. I’m sorry. I hope that you don’t hate me now.
Serial Dater: I don’t hate you. It’s just that it’s a lot to take in all at once. But I’m glad that you told me. I appreciate your honesty. I know that it took a lot for you to admit that.
Ms. Phat Booty: Hopefully you don’t start treating me different. I really like you a lot. And I hope that we can continue being friends.
Serial Dater: Everything’s cool. But it’s getting late and I think it’s time that I get going home. I’ll call you.
She heard the words I spoke, but the look in her eyes betrayed her thoughts. She knew that this was probably the last that she’d see of me. Her face read or previous encounters that ended this way. “Why do they always leave?”
I felt bad for her and her ordeal. I wish things could’ve been different. But the truth of the matter is that she had an easily transmittable disease. Even with a condom I would constantly be at risk. And there would definitely be absolutely no oral sex from me. And I happen to like oral sex. It would’ve been tough for me to not look at her as “the girl with herpes.” I’d hope she understood.
I found out she didn’t.
After that night, I stopped calling her. I felt strange talking to her on the phone. I couldn’t stop myself from pitying her. And who the hell wants to be pitied. She didn’t take my shying away to easy either. She called my cell phone and left me one helluva phone message letting me have it. Words were used like insensitive, uncaring, just like all the rest, closed minded and the problem with people. Of course she threw in the standard line, “I thought you’d be different.” I did feel her pain. And because of that I called her and explained my position. I thought owed her at least that.
The way I saw it, she should’ve been happy. Most girls I get ghost on don’t receive that phone call. And they never do.
I wish women could just wear a sign. It would make things easier. It would make things…simple. Dating is already hard enough without stuff happening like this. My heart began to race a little faster. It scared me to confront my own fear. It wasn’t something that I was used to doing.
For all my supposed intelligence, I was still susceptible to making idiotic mistakes. But I really couldn’t take the blame for this one. How was I supposed to know? However, this “almost” error in judgment would have been costly and haunted me for the rest of my life. Thank God for the constant reappearance of the human conscious.
This ordeal began coincidently on the night of my birthday. I had just turned 33. And there I was, once again, spending this day alone. Sometimes I don’t know how that happens. My phone book was about 50-60 names deep. Hell, I’ve forgotten more women than some dudes have met in a lifetime, but still I could be dateless on a Friday night; better yet a Friday night on my birthday.
For the past decade or so, I’ve never made plans on my birthday. It was always the responsibility of the person I was seeing at the time. It would be up to HER to coordinate an event or activity on my birthday. Shit, I would do the same in return. But sometimes even the coolest chick that I knew would somehow lame up on me on my birthday. And that in my book is an unforgivable transgression. Forgetting the kid’s birthday is a one-way ticket to “Delete’s Ville” – population: You.
This particular birthday night, I gave everybody a grace period of up until 8 p.m. to get at me. Beyond that, I was free-styling it. No calls came. Free-style it was then.
Every 3rd Friday of the month there was a group from the devil’s playground (a.k.a. Black Planet) that gave these Meet-N-Greet parties at the Holiday Inn near my home. The Meet-N-Greet parties were definitely part of the good that existed on Black Planet. The parties, mostly attended by the squares, who truly joined the site to network, were always fun affairs. Good music and semi-sane attendees. I had learned about the Meet-N-Greet party in Baltimore some time ago when I used to attend the Meet-N-Greet party in DC {side note: I had to stop attending the party in DC after my relationship with one of the event’s organizer went sour – see: chick in DC with the sleigh bed (lol)}. So that particular night I spent my birthday at the Meet-N-Greet party.
Much to my dissatisfaction, that particular night’s party was rather lame. It was the first one I had went to where hardly anyone showed up. The pickings were slim that night, so I pulled the number of this one older brawd, who lived in Silver Spring. Any other night and she wouldn’t have seen the light of day, but like I said – the pickings were slim. Realizing that this party would’ve required a séance to revive it from the being dead, I decided to call up my cousins to see what they were up to on a Friday night in Baltimore.
I hollered at my big cuz Rick to see what he was doing and he informed me that he, my cousin Tony, Lou and Mike were heading to the Corinthian Lounge near my crib. Corinthians was Rick’s spot. But he wasn’t alone. Corinthians was also the spot of another person who had a spot in my life – my ex-wife. It was the very spot that she met her current boyfriend. At some point she had become a regular at the place. So I told my cousins that I would meet them at Corinthians after I left the Holiday Inn.
The two spots were in very close proximity to each other, so it took me no time to get there. I actually beat my cousins there, so I decided to go in and take a seat at the bar and have a drink while I wait. I was in some kinda funk sitting there at the bar. There were sexy half dressed women all around me, but somehow they were invisible to me. At that moment, nothing seemed to garner any kind of response from me. Not the music, not the women, not the cigarette smoke (which hovered at eye level like a fallen cloud) not the cold beer sitting before me – nothing. I sat entranced and engulfed within the beginning stages of, dare I say it, self pity. But then a hand on my shoulder snapped me back to reality.
“Happy birthday Serial,” the woman said softly into my ear. It was a voice that I recognized. I turned around and was greeted by the familiar smile of my ex-wife. At least someone remembered. A return smile attempted to materialize across my face.
Serial Dater: Hey what’s good Kay.
Cheater ex-wife: Nothing much. I saw you come in and I wanted to stop by and say hello.
Serial Dater: I shoulda figured you’d be here. You here alone?
Cheater ex-wife: No I’m here with HIM. He’s sitting over there. {I looked in the direction in which she pointed and saw my replacement}.
Serial Dater: He let you come over here to talk to me?
Cheater ex-wife: Nope. I told him I was going to the bathroom. And then I snuck over here to talk to you.
Serial Dater: I see.
Cheater ex-wife: You look good. Very handsome {smiling}
Serial Dater: Thanks {awkward}
Cheater ex-wife: Well I better get back over there before he comes looking for me. Happy birthday Serial.
And like that she was gone – again. That would be the last I would see of her that night (not that I wanted to see more). I was officially more depressed than I started out. But just at the point I was about to put the gun to my head, my fam came thru the door. Things would be so much better from that point. My cousins were hardcore drinkers and on more than one occasion Rick and his crew (Lou & Mike) had been thrown out of Corinthians by police force. Shit, I needed something exciting to happen.
The moment my cousins came in the door it seemed as though the place came alive. They were boisterous, flirtatious, aggressive, friendly and assholes all at the same time. And they knew everybody. Despite the spot being crowded, they immediately set up shop at the end of the bar and the rounds started flowin’. I didn’t have to buy another drink that night. Instantaneously, I was back to being the old me and for the first time actual noticed how many brawds was up in that piece. Time for some action.
I ended up getting three phone numbers that night. But it would be the last of the three that was the most interesting. She was short with medium length hair, had a brown skin complexion, very cute and enough ass for her and friend. This is going to sound odd, but she looked like a girlfriend. She looked like a girl that belonged to someone (if that makes sense). But lucky me – she didn’t. We hit it off immediately. Come to find out, she was feeling me as much as I was feeling her. We talked for the rest of the night until the joint closed. We even continued the conversation outside – well until the parking lot was cleared. She drove, so her girlfriends were pissed to say the least. One of them even shouted while we talked, “Damn, just get his number and call him later.” So she did.
I hadn’t even made it home that night when she called me at about 2:30 a.m. We talked for another 30 minutes. We ended the conversation with plans to see one another real soon. The next day, I had a date with someone else, but I can’t remember with whom or where the date took place. All I know is that the chick stalled me on the draws that night and I left to go home a lil disappointed. As I drove home I remembered ole gurl from the night before at Corinthians. I remembered she lived downtown Baltimore and I was quickly approaching downtown. I called her up to see if she would be up for some company. After some convo and convincing, she told me to come on over.
I got there in no time. She lived in a town house between John Hopkins University and the “Jects.” Her neighborhood was borderline dangerous. But it was all good. I threw on the truck alarm and went inside to see what was up with Ms. Phat booty.
The first thing I noticed as I entered her living room was that she had a computer and desk set up in the corner. Her computer was on, so I casually strolled over to check it out. It was eating me alive, so I had to ask her. “Are you on Black Planet?” She was like yes; I have a page on there. I asked her to pull up her page and then we viewed mine. Just as I had suspected we had exchanged notes on the site before. Small world I suppose. Throw in the Internet and it becomes even smaller. We had a good laugh about the whole Black Planet thing and then went to take a seat on the couch.
The conversation was flowing lovely and then the next thing you know we were bustin’ slob like two teenagers under the bleachers on prom night. Things we definitely getting heating up. Before we both knew what was happening, I had her shirt and bra off and was doing my best impression of a new born. There was some major wood happening in my jeans, so I started to slide down her jogging pants. That’s when she yelled out, “Wait!”
Ms. Phat Booty: Serial there’s something I have to tell you. Something very important.
Serial Dater: Whazzup? Cause I got a condom in my pocket {me- puzzled}.
Ms. Phat Booty: It’s not that. There’s something you really need to know before we continue and things go too far.
Oh shit. :o(
Nothing but bad news was coming behind that statement. I’ve never heard a woman utter those words and then told me something great. Immediately, my erection began to subside. The pained look on her face told the whole story. There was something wrong with her and it was tied to sex. I sat up on the couch and prepared myself for the whopper she was about to tell me.
Ms. Phat Booty: Some time ago I used to be involved with a guy that I cared a great deal about. We were together a few years and he cheated on me. There came a time when I noticed wrong with me so I went to the doctors to get it checked out. The doctor said that I had contracted herpes. I hadn’t been with anyone else but my boyfriend and we didn’t use condoms. And I know for a fact that he cheated on me, so I had to have gotten it from him. I confronted him with it and he tried to deny I got it from him. He was later diagnosed with herpes too.
Serial Dater: Wow. That’s really messed up.
Ms. Phat Booty: We’ve been broken up for years and I’ve been left with trying to deal with this. I wanted to wait to tell you this. I wanted us to get to know one another first and then I would’ve told you. I wanted you to see that I’m still a good person and that I have a lot to offer. But tonight, things happened quickly and we took it there far earlier than I planned to. So I had to tell you right away. I’m sorry. I hope that you don’t hate me now.
Serial Dater: I don’t hate you. It’s just that it’s a lot to take in all at once. But I’m glad that you told me. I appreciate your honesty. I know that it took a lot for you to admit that.
Ms. Phat Booty: Hopefully you don’t start treating me different. I really like you a lot. And I hope that we can continue being friends.
Serial Dater: Everything’s cool. But it’s getting late and I think it’s time that I get going home. I’ll call you.
She heard the words I spoke, but the look in her eyes betrayed her thoughts. She knew that this was probably the last that she’d see of me. Her face read or previous encounters that ended this way. “Why do they always leave?”
I felt bad for her and her ordeal. I wish things could’ve been different. But the truth of the matter is that she had an easily transmittable disease. Even with a condom I would constantly be at risk. And there would definitely be absolutely no oral sex from me. And I happen to like oral sex. It would’ve been tough for me to not look at her as “the girl with herpes.” I’d hope she understood.
I found out she didn’t.
After that night, I stopped calling her. I felt strange talking to her on the phone. I couldn’t stop myself from pitying her. And who the hell wants to be pitied. She didn’t take my shying away to easy either. She called my cell phone and left me one helluva phone message letting me have it. Words were used like insensitive, uncaring, just like all the rest, closed minded and the problem with people. Of course she threw in the standard line, “I thought you’d be different.” I did feel her pain. And because of that I called her and explained my position. I thought owed her at least that.
The way I saw it, she should’ve been happy. Most girls I get ghost on don’t receive that phone call. And they never do.
posted by The_Practitioner | 2:21 AM
23 Comments:
I don't think that you should pity her at all...either way she will be alright. One day she will go on to find a man who can accept her.
But at least she did tell you the truth. A lot of people don't tell their potential partners that they have an STD.
I would have probably done the same thing as you.
I can't imagine what kind of courage you have to have to sit down and tell your "potential" you have herpes...or any STD. Although it's her responsibility, she has to be applauded to have said anything.
Hey S.D...have a Happy New Year!
I read this and I wasn't going to respond, but I have to. I'm so glad that you brought this up. I'm sure that you appreciate her honesty and all- but there is something that you are not addressing. 25% of the sexually active population in the U.S. carries the herpes virus. Some studies differentiate between cold sores and genital herpes, some don't. They are the same virus just located in a different area. So let's look back over some of your "Serial" annals and count...one, two, three, FOUR. The FOURTH "brawd" (as you like to call them) has the virus. So how many times have you come in contact with that 4th person? You probably have no idea. Its amazing that in this day and age, people have casual sex and almost never ask ahead of time, what is their partner's their sexual health status. I'm not great about it either. And there is no guarantee of course, that when you ask you'll get the truth. But so many of us aren't even asking. So the likelihood that you have been with someone who has herpes or whatever else is very high. Your stories are great, and everybody wants to know if you "hit that". But the truth is, everytime you hook up with a brawd, you put your dick on the crap table, and you don't know what you're gonna come away with. The only difference with this young lady, is that you know what the deal is upfront, and you are able to take precautions to protect yourself (and any other brawds you encounter). There are pharmaceutical and all natural remedies that she can take to keep her virus dormant and keep her and you outbreak free indefinitely. She very well may not have been the woman for you, but now you'll never know what good she could have brought to your life. And that's too bad.
To all that are posting I'm headed to Baltimore for a week. I'll be checkin' in from there and maybe I drop another story or two (momma got high speed internet). Continue to drop your analysis and I'll holla.
HAPPY NEW YEAR !!!
It took some strength to come out and tell you what was going on with her especially with all that adrenaline running through the room. But you are correct after someone tells you that you do look at them different and you will always wonder....anonymous is correct we should be more active in asking potentials their status...we put ourselves in jeopardy everytime we "dive in"...HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!
Anon is right. We generally don't ask enough questions before we "hit it." And are people truthful about such information even if we do ask? It takes courage to admit you've been burned, but its likely we all have at some point, by one thing or another. I hope that she does find the partner that is right for her...and you too, if that is what you are looking for LOL
Happy 2006, Serial!
That was a close call!!! At leat she was honest. Most people are not honest about their history and all. You cut it close right there.
you was close there homie.....watch out....
That other anon really set it out. In addition to the rate the he/she shared, some studies claim that 80%-90% of the adult population is carrying around the Herp anti-virus, meaning that at some point in life--probably childhood--we were exposed to the virus itself, causing our immune systems to begin producing Herp fighters!
In some circles Herpes isn't even thought of so much as an STD but more a communicable disease. That's because people can get it and manifest it almost anywhere: hands, eyes, back, thighs, buttocks...the list goes on. So, you see, it may not even show up around the genitalia, and just holding hands with someone who happens to be "shedding" on their hand can transmit the virus to you.
That young lady is to be commended for her willingness and strength in being transparent at a critical moment.
I don't blame you for not wanting to continue seeing her. You were honest, as was she. Glad you're thankful for the opportunity to say no, whereas so many others don't offer us the same. "Let's talk about sex, baby."
Be very thankful she was honest with you. Or you would of ended up being Serial STD Carrier.
OMG, I just finished reading all of your posts and man, you are something else. Keep them cumming (pun intended).
I think that the chick was real for telling you the truth. You got to appreciate that
I have to agree with Anon #1.
The stats show that 1 out of every 4 people are carriers of herpes. And the growing numbers is even more alarming. Sadly enough, when women get tested, they are not getting tested for HSV2 or Hpv, because those are more expensive blood test that some-one need to request based on exposure. Apart from the fact that most people that have the virus may not manifest symptoms (Asymptomatic.)
I commend her for how she exposed herself (no pun intended)but that is a honesty that is rarely found.
Some times some situations merit a phone call sooner. She may have fallen back and respected you more, had you told her that you could not deal with it.
It may have been the first, but yours eyes are now open. It more then likely won't be the last. We are of an age that we should be more explicit with our intimate others.
The one thing about this story that was funny, was her attachment after one night at a lounge?
DAYUM. I thought that she was going to tell you that she was a tranny and had a weiner.
After being raped in college (also a 1 out of 4 statistic) I began getting tested for HIV (and the rest) every 6 months. After a few years of panic and worry I relaxed a bit and started going every year. Only recently after I requested that a potential partner get tested; did I realize NONE of my Doctors over the years tested me for herpes. At a visit to the gyno a few weeks ago, I asked my Doctor why he has never ordered the Herpes test - he claims that the tests themselves are old and unreliable. That he has been witness to someone in the middle of a herpes outbreak who's test results were negative. In his opinion, there are so many people that have been exposed to this STD that you are bound to run into it somewhere eventually. Needless to say, I requested a herpes test (both 1 & 2) along with the rest of my annual tests. All came out negative - have I been exposed? Probably.. and you probably have been too. For the men and women who like to give and recieve oral sex... you CAN pass mouth sores (Herpes 1) to the genitals - for the guys that think they are safe just getting their dick sucked.. you might want to reconsider. Ask your partners if they have ever had a cold sore, fever blister on thier lip or in thier mouth - same goes for below the belt. Herpes is out there - it's incurable and it's passed easily - 1 out of 4 folks.. how many responses to this post... 1, 2, 3, 4 - 1, 2, 3, 4
Call that girl back and tell her you are proud of her honesty, the next one who has herpes or worse -might not be as inclined to let you know. She didn't know you - but she respected you. That says a lot.
See Im with that fifth Anonymous. I thought she was going to tell you she was a post-op Transvestite. But I also agree with some of the other Anonymous-es. None of us know 100% of our partners' sexual histories. We may take AIDS tests, but there are other diseases that leave you alive but seriously jacked, like herpes, warts, etc. Its hard out there. Happy New Year, stay safe, Yall!
Naw, knew that tranny thing couldn't be it. If that had been the case then Serial would have dropped some hints in his early description, i.e.,: "Her voice was a little huskier than I imagined that it would be, but it was sexy, Anita Baker-esque even. She also had hands whose mass belied her femininity. I couldn't help thinking, 'I can't wait until she gets those mitts around the meat.'" See, there would have been some kind of subtle clue as to what was coming.
lol @ Serial pretending to be Anon.. nice..
Wishing you a very happy and safe New Year sweetie!
Take Care!!!
I commend both of you for being honest. Imagine for a minute how many women you've dated with herpes that DIDN'T reveal it. Scary, huh?
And shame on the person who said that medication would clear it up ... herpes is forever, dahling.
Are these stories really true?
I have to go w/some, I thought she was gonna say she was a hermaphrodite or sumthin. But, while medication doesn't clear it up completely, it does "decrease the occurrence of outbreaks" or whatever those commercials say, LOL! I used to know someone that got caught up like that and ended up w/herpes. Her bf was cool with it, she was taking medication and they weren't using condoms, and to this day, as far as a I know (5 years later) he does not have herpes. But you never know, so wrap it up and you were lucky she told, but that's usually one of those "don't ask, don't tell" things.
Na$$ty Girl said "medications can clear that herpes shit up real quick."
NOT!!! There is NO CURE for herpes. Damn, educate yourself!!
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