OH HELL-TO-THE-NAW !

Sometimes in reflecting I come to the realization that dating really does suck.

But despite its shortcomings, this ritual we partake in with the opposite sex is a necessary evil. Because without it, we would all be regulated to just hangin' out with the same sex. And after a while that becomes…well…sorta gay.

So I continue to do the damn thing and rack up my stories of horror. Case in point…

There came a time when I met this one young lady who lived in southeast DC. Awww lovely southeast DC. In traveling through southeast at the wrong time and wrong place, could put you unnecessarily on the wrong end of a car jacking. So I should've known what I was getting in dealing with a young lady from that section of my favorite metropolitan city. But then again, even a rose can grow out of concrete. I think that's how the saying goes. Or maybe it's even a marijuana seed can grow in a potted plant in the dark. Something like that. Lol

This girl was raw. And I think it was her rawness that intrigued me. She was unbelievably guy-like. During our first conversation, I learned that she had been involved with women and had a threesome with two dudes. A normal person would've been concerned about such revelations. But I abandoned normalcy back in the 80's. I like to refer to myself now as practical - with a twist.

So our first date was…how could I say this…tame. At the time she didn't have a car (which is always problematic), so I drove to DC to pick her up and drag her ghetto ass back to Baltimore to my apartment in the burbs. For some reason during that time in my life almost every other woman I met in DC didn't have a car. I suppose it was because the city has such an intricate transit system (much like New York) that you really didn't need a vehicle - if you were a woman. Guys without cars and who depended on mass transit aren't seen as metropolitan or progressive. There's a word for a guy fitting this description - scrub.

Ole gurl also lived with her mom and her young daughter at the time. So going back to my house would be the move. Back at De Casa Serial, we made some popcorn and watched movies all night. She even spent the night, lying in my bed next to me with nothing on but a t-shirt and panties (word to Adina Howard). I didn't make a move at all. Like I said earlier, it was tame. In the morning, we grabbed a bite and I took her home.

The next weekend, she calls me and tells me that she very much would like to see me again. She asked me if I was up for joining her for a meal. A woman…asking me out to eat…I was like hell yeah I'm with that. She explained that she had a coupon to a very popular seafood restaurant called Phillips. Phillips had long been a staple of fine dining for the BL brothas (Baller Lite). It wouldn't cost you a huge grip to eat there, but at the same time it was priced out of range for dudes working at retail stores.

The closest Phillips to her was in downtown Baltimore, which was convenient. It would give her an opportunity to see her favorite Baltimorean (of the moment)- me - and utilize her coupon at a nice restaurant. Besides, as she informed me, the coupon would expire soon. Now I ain't one of those bourgeoise (i.e. booshie) brotha's who turns up his nose at females paying or the thought of pulling out a coupon at a nice establishment. Quite the contrary, I'm a beer and coupon kinda guy. Difference is that I might pull out the coupon on the low, but I still pull out the damn coupon. Lol

She informed me that since the last time I'd seen her, she had purchased a new whip. A royal blue Chevy Cavalier. This was great as I was not enthused at all about making another trip to the mighty southeast to pick up one of the Girlz-N-Tha-Hood. She informed me that she would drive to B-More, if I gave her accurate directions. I was like bet. This is great. I don't have to go get her and she taking me out to eat. This shit is aiiight.

After a while she makes it to my spot. I wasn't quite ready yet, which happens often for some reason. Sports Center is a muthafucka. It is the number one cause of me not being ready for dates. So when she gets there I'm still in a towel from the shower I just took. I was half expecting her to be bitchin' about my lack of being readiness, but she wasn't. She was actually cool with it. As a matter of fact I think she enjoyed my nakedness. I'm starting to think, maybe I subconsciously left myself nude so that I could plant a seed of thought (wow that's the second seed reference in this story - I'm starting to think that I may want a puff of some herbal refreshment).

I asked her to rub some lotion on me because my skin has a tendency to become overly dry after a shower (dayum deodorant soap). She began rubbing the lotion on me and the next thing you, one thing led to another and then I was bangin' her hard like a FAMU marching band drum at homecoming. I ain't even exaggerating I was puttin' in some major work. Shit - free meal at Phillips and I didn't have to drive to get her - she was gonna get the deluxe. I wanted her to get her moneys worth in orgasms. When all was said and done, I put both of us to sleep.

About an hour or so later we woke up, hopped in the shower together and then got redressed for our outing. Along the way we chatted about the episode that had went down back at my place. She actually told me that she didn't know I had that in me. Most women don't.

We got to Baltimore's famed Inner Harbor and luckily found a parking spot, which was good for a Saturday night. It was a good omen to start our date. When we got inside to Phillips we soon learned that there was a minimum one-hour wait to get in. I told ya the place was popular. We put our names on the list and decided to walk around Harbor Place until our table was ready.

While walking around and browsing in and out of the boutiques, we came across this one stand that sold all those yuppie coffee drinks. You know the place; the one that sells the vast array of bullshit hot and cold flavored drinks that suburbanites stand in line to receive because they believe that their life is somehow altered if this drink doesn't get into their system. Yeah, that place. She begins stressing me about getting one of these yuppie drinks. Some mocha-chocolatte-frappacino-expresso-two-scoops-deluxe drink with whipped cream. I told her that it probably wouldn't be a good idea to drink/eat that prior to dinner (more specifically eating seafood) because it could spoil her dinner. She decided to be hard headed and inhaled the drink. Shortly afterwards our table was ready at Phillips.

Once inside, the atmosphere was nice, but the place was packed to the hilt. I like having breathing room when I dine and I wasn't going to get it at this place. We informed the waitress that we would be doing the all you can eat seafood buffet, which was priced at about $20 per person. My date ordered some mega tropical alcoholic drink and I ordered just a beer - on tap. I didn't want to bankrupt the brawd, so I was being nice. We ate to our hearts content and had a great time talking and just trippin'. As far as I was concerned, this was an excellent follow up to a bomb as sex episode. And the night was still young, which meant I could get rid of her and do something else after the date.

So then comes the bill.

The server places it in the middle of the table, which is actually kinda smart. By doing that, she didn't offend anyone and didn't make any assumptions on whose paying.

I notice ole gurl is not picking up the bill. Neither do I. So it just sits there as we drink the remains of our water. Finally she picks up the bill, looks at it and then reaches into her purse. Out comes the aforementioned coupon and some additional duckets. “Okay here's enough to cover my half of the bill,” she said confidently. WTF!!!!

“Enough to cover her half?” I thought to myself. This bitch asked me out to eat at Phillips and now she tryna pull this shit. Again, WTF!

I looked at her like she was a Martian with two connected heads. What the fuck part of the game was this?! What part indeed.

I was beginning to feel duped, as I took the coupon into my hand to inspect what it said. Buy one meal and get the other free. In the words of former crack head DC Mayor Marion Berry - The Bitch Set Me Up! Free dick and now a free meal. I was infuriated. “I thought you were treating me to dinner,” I asked. Her response, “I don't have enough to cover the whole bill.” I couldn't believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. She really did plan this. I whipped out my credit card and covered the balance and then we left. I didn't say a word to her afterwards.

Along the walk to the car, I began to notice a look of discomfort in her face. As a matter of fact her grill looked damn well - painful. She was grimacing and walking slowly as we approached the truck. What ever was going on with her I had hoped that it hurt. Cheap bitch. I got into the ride and unlocked the doors from the inside. Normally, I hold the door open for a woman. But that's reserved for paying customers (lol). I noticed that she was still standing outside of the door long after I'd gotten in the vehicle. I hoped to god that she wasn't waiting for me to get out and open that door for her. That wouldn't be pretty.

I rolled down the window to ask her what the hell she was waiting for. With a pained look in her face she responded, “I'm farting. Something upset my stomach.” Something my ass. It was that damn crappacino she drank. I yelled at her, “Don't get in my truck with that shit. Stay your ass outside until you finish.” She looked at me like as to ask how can I be so insensitive. I look back at her as to say how could you not pay for my meal.

Once she finished lighting it up outside (and airing out), I let her into the vehicle. It would only a be a temporary relief. Once inside the truck she was overcome with a severe case of the BG's (bubble guts). I swear I could hear the bubbling and rumbling in her stomach. It actual scared me. Not in the sense that I was concerned that something might be wrong with her, but in the sense that I feared she may actually shit her tight Parasuco jeans right in my passenger seat. And that would've been the worst mistake she coulda made in her life.

Serial Dater: Do not shit yourself in my truck.

Cheap Brawd: I'm not gonna shit in your truck dammit.

Serial Dater: Do you need to get to a bathroom? Cause I live about 20 minutes from here. Can you hold it?

Cheap Brawd: I don't think I can hold out till we get back to your place.

Serial Dater: I'm serious. Don't shit in my ride. I'll get you to a damn bathroom.

Cheap Brawd: You gonna have to hurry up cause I can't hold it much longer.


With that, I whipped the truck onto the street and started blasting to any place that might have a bathroom.

Cheap Brawd: Hurry please. Look there's a hotel right there. I'm sure they have bathroom.

I pulled in the front of the swank hotel like I was Colt Seivers up in that piece. Straight Fall Guy action taken place. I hit the brakes and she jumps out leaving the door open. She ran into the hotel past the bellhop and then I couldn't see her anymore. At that point I didn't care if she made it in time or not. She was out of my truck and that was all that mattered. Besides, that's what she deserved with her shitty ass. She shouldn't have been so damn deceptive and cheap.

She walked back out about 20 minutes later looking like she had been in a fight. And lost. I laughed till tears streamed down my cheeks. And then I laughed some more.

The lesson here is - Be careful of how you treat people. It always comes out in the end. (Get it. It comes out in the end) lol