THREE THE HARD WAY

I wasn’t even supposed to have been there that night.

It wasn’t on the agenda, nor was it where I really wanted to be. Yet there I was.

But I suppose that’s how fate works – we end up in places and situations by happenstance. Fate wanted me to be there.

I sat in my seat, nursing a 22 oz glass of draft beer. People were talking to me, but I didn’t hear them. Nor did I hear the blaring music. I just sat emotionless and expressionless cuffing the cold mug.

I knew one day it would happen. Call it a job hazard of being a Serial Dater. I will admit though, I wasn’t expecting to see HER there, and with another dude to boot. And I damn sure never woulda thought I’d actually see that other one again either. That BITCH! I used to dream about the day we’d see each other again. I just knew that when we did see each other face to face…there was going to be a misunderstanding and some furniture movin’. At least, that was gonna be the story I told the cops.

And then HER. I only walked in, out of the hopes of possibly bumping into her there. I knew from experience it was her Wednesday night spot. It was where she and her girls kicked it.

So there you have it - three girls, one night.

The dude girl #1 was with, a big William “the refrigerator” Perry-type nigga, excused himself and went to the bar to get the two of them some drinks. Almost as if on cue, the minute he reached the bar, she noticed me. We looked eye-to-eye and very calmly and smoothly she mouthed, “hello” and waved. I gave a nod in reciprocation and a semi-piercing look. She was as cool as the other side of the pillow. It wasn’t nothing but a G-thang to her.

It should be duly noted that I wasn’t angry about her being there with another man. Nor was I upset about her playing it off like I was some family friend. I was however; mad at myself for us ending up in the same place, at the same time. I had already placed her in “duck status” and hadn’t been calling her or returning calls (more on that later). So I wasn’t quite prepared for seeing her so soon.

Flash Back

Girl #1 (a.k.a. Chocolate Intelligence)

As was my normal fair, I found myself rollin’ for dolo on a Saturday night. Not that I don’t like hanging with a crew or doin’ the town with a homey, but it’s just that sometimes I like…how shall I put this…traveling light. Being a Serial Dater, traveling light is a pre-requisite. It cuts down on witnesses (unless Free beard stickin’ out – lol). So it wasn’t unordinary for me to be up in the club gettin’ my two-step on by myself. I was by myself that night I first met Ms. Chocolate Intelligence.

I was just dancing, in my own zone, when I saw her. And when I saw her, I couldn’t stop staring at her. She was short, cute, very chocolate, curvaceous and packin’ breast for days. She also was dancing with a dude, who was cuffin’ her like she belonged to him. But somehow that didn’t bother me. Nor did I stop looking at her. Periodically we made eye contact. I made sure that we did. She made sure that we did. I turned around to dance with someone and when I looked back – she was gone.

I looked around the club to spot where she and ole boy were stationed. But I couldn’t find her amidst the smoke and darkness. She was gone. So I went to the bathroom for a potty break. In walking back past the bar, a hand reached out and grabbed my arm. “Hey where are you going,” asked Ms. Chocolate Intelligence with her half-inch dimples on display. I smiled at her. She smiled back and I took my place next to her at the bar.

Ms. Chocolate Intelligence: Um, why were you staring at me on the dance floor?

Serial Dater: Because I saw something I liked.

Ms. Chocolate Intelligence: You saw something you liked huh? Well I’m glad that you did. I kept asking myself, why is that cute guy looking at me.

Serial Dater: So where is that dude you were dancing with? That your boyfriend?

Ms. Chocolate Intelligence: No not at all. He’s just some guy I was dancing with. As a matter of fact, I’m trying to get away from him.

Serial Dater: Just checkin’. I don’t want homey gettin’ his feathers all ruffled cause I'm kickin' it with his chick.

Ms. Chocolate Intelligence: So let’s get back to you thinking that I’m pretty {more smiles}

I got her a fresh drink and we posted up at the bar just buildin' and getting to know one another. We swapped phone numbers, placing the digits into each other’s cellies and then we hit the dance floor.

After the club, about 4 a.m. that morning she called me to talk some more. Ms. Chocolate Intelligence was hella aggressive and confident for a 25 year old. She was acting like she wanted a spot on the team. We ended up going out to dinner that Sunday evening. Since she lived with her folks, she made sure I came in to meet her mother. I was given the once over and passed with flying colors. Normally, I’m opposed to such things so soon in the campaign, but we were vibing and I gave her the benefit of the doubt. So I met Ma Dukes. ;o)

I call her Chocolate Intelligence for the following reasons: chocolate due to her mahogany complexion and intelligence because she graduated from a top engineering university. She also had traveled and lived abroad in countries I’ve only read about in books. She was knowledgeable of a lot things and I give credit where credit is due (editor’s note: despite her worldliness, she still didn’t know as much as I. I’m stuffed to the gills with interesting and in some cases very useless factoids – lol).

Over the course of the month we saw quite a bit of one another and ended up going on plenty of dates and outings. She even found herself waking up in my bed a few times, but we never had sex (yeah, yeah I know what you thinking, I was slippin’. Naw never that, I was letting that ass marinate. I wasn’t quite sure what to do with her yet). But in my world, if you ain’t fuckin’ me, feeding me, engaging my interest, trickin’ shit on me or teaching me then there is absolutely no use for you. Go see the Turk and turn in your playbook.

She wasn’t doing any of those things and one day I noticed. I got pretty solid system in place to shield me from parasites. If we’ve been on at least three dates and you ain’t paid once or offered to pay then you just selfish. And I can’t stands a selfish bitch; especially since I’m generous. I immediately started cutting her back and eventually, I stopped dealing with her all together.

Flash Forward


Call it my stupidity for not paying closer attention to my surroundings. When I came into the bar I noticed the table full of women sitting close to the DJ and the Karaoke set up. A couple of the women at the table looked mad familiar. My Spidey Senses were on crunk, but I couldn’t put it all together. Then one of the women I thought I recognized made eye contact with me, looking as if she knew me or at least had seen me before. Then she went up to the Karaoke stand and started belting out a song. That’s when my mental database finally found a match. I had seen that chick before. She went to the same church as Ms. Chocolate Intelligence and had met me before in a social seting.

One night on the west side of town, Ms. Chocolate Intelligence and I met up at a different bar for Karaoke night. Majority of the women from that table were there that night. Ms. Chocolate Intelligence even introduced me to several of them. I just knew that they would report back seeing me. But I wouldn’t have that worry for long because in walked Ms. Chocolate Intelligence 10 minutes later with a date. I figured my night couldn’t get any worse. It did.

Like I said, my game was off and I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings. My mind was preoccupied with Ms. Chocolate Intelligence and girl #3. I went to the bar to get a drink – a cold frosty mug of draft beer.

One of the two DJs that worked Wednesday night Karaoke came over to gimme dap. I didn’t even know dude, but he was mad cordial. He gave me a pound and asked me my name – I told him. He let me know that he recognized me from the last time I came thru the bar. I thought the nigga was gay and was hitting on me (DL brothas is real and he was light skinned too – I couldn’t be to sure –lol). Then it hit me. The last time I came thru girl #3 introduced me to him and we shook hands. He was just acknowledging a nigga. He thanked me for coming out and then kept it moving. That’s when I saw that BITCH at the mic stand.

I hadn’t seen her before because she was laying low and sitting with the DJs. But then it was her time to sing and she was in full view. As I sat at my table, I almost choked on my beer. She began to sing and actually wasn’t bad. Shawty had some pipes on her, but that still didn’t change how I felt about her. She never made eye contact and I kept my eyes on her. I was ecstatic in the sudden revelation of seeing that she had put on weight. Fuckin’ moo-cow, she deserved that weight. Hell, she needed it to counter balance all that attitude she lugged around.


Flash Back


Girl #2 (a.k.a. Ms. Selfish Eclectic)

We met online. What else is new?

A couple of notes to and from and it was on and poppin’. Her online pics were strange and dark, yet she had me open. I found something extremely sexy about her and was convinced that I had to meet her.

She definitely was not my normal variety. With the exception of her thickness, which was soooo me, there wasn’t much else about this girl that was typical of the women I dated or screwed for that matter. Her style was Goth meets Hoochie. In addition, she was a Scorpio (more on that later), light skinned (in my world two light skinned people cancel each other out), covered all over in tats and was pierced in a number of places including her tongue, eye brow and even had a steel spike labret piercing. I know, I know (lol).

Further more, she too was 25 when I met her, a huge fan of Sting (and other 80’s rock groups) and was a devout vegan. She also could be very sensual, goofy or girlie. Figuratively, nothing matched with this girl. And on the surface, us together made absolutely no sense at all – much like a Muslim dating Ms. Piggy.

Me, I got one foot in the street and the other in the boardroom, with each passing day finding both more and more in the boardroom. I’m a rap and reggae nut. I have absolutely no tats nor piercings. I’m a carnivorous meat eater (with the exception of read meats) and to me, vegetables are a convenient side dish. So like I said, we seemed not to match. But damn if we didn’t get along well with one another, from our first date at that nice seafood restaurant up until the point I could no longer stand her.

Sometimes I find it hard to believe that I cooked this woman several vegetarian dishes (with tofu). Hell I even contemplated the unthinkable, which I dare not mention her between these lines.

I think I should interject something here – something a tad personal about myself. Every 4-6 months (or maybe that’s 4-6 years), the Serial one falls in love (well at least some minor derivative of love) with some brawd he’s met. I’m serious, let us be bonding and getting along for a half a minute and next thing you know, I’m wifing some chick up. Don’t even intend to, but somehow it happens. And the wild part is I convince myself that this is something I want to really do. I suppose, despite my objections, I’m unconsciously looking for something. Anything.

This was not the case with Ms. Selfish Eclectic, but I did allow myself to think…what if. Just what if?

It took a couple of weeks for me to hit, but rest assured I hit. One Saturday night she had invited me to some Hawaiian-themed yard party in the hood. We may have traveled to the party together, but when we got there we went our separate ways. She had friends there that were expecting her. I didn’t know a sole, but I mingled and blended in like these were my peoples. This became somewhat problematic. Dudes she knew were trying to holla at her and were mad because she was there with me and a bunch of random chicks were trying to get at me, but I was there with her.

Some of the attention Ms. Selfish Eclectic got came from the very short minnie skirt she was wearing. The rest of the attention came from associates trying to liquor her up so that they could fuck. I appreciated the hard work they put in, but she was coming home with me. ;o)

When we got back to my place it was on. It was our first time and I was straight on that night. I call that night the Massacre, because I was killin’ shit. I wanted to make sure there would be more nights to follow. After we finished she didn’t spend the night, which bothered me for some reason. Now that is unusual for me, because after I nut, I normally want shit cleared out. There is now room at the Inn (lol).

In the following weeks, there were more intimate encounters, which a few were bizarre within themselves, but something else was happening too. She was becoming more and more of bitch and somewhat withdrawn. Being the experienced dude that I am, that only meant one thing – another man (or woman given today’s climate) was beating my time. While she never came out and admitted it, I had that feeling. Then one day, the shit really hit the fan.

We had a huge fight at my crib, some words were exchanged and things got out of hand. I think about that night sometimes and wonder how things got to that point. I was always good to that woman despite her weirdness. If there was another dude, I just wish she would’ve womaned up and put the cards on the table. It really would’ve been cool. Hell, I’m like a champion bowler…I’m always picking up a spare (lol).


Flash Forward


Life is dynamic; forever in motion and ever changing. Half of the shit I’ve been involved in, I couldn’t have predicted or scripted if I tried. But man am I glad that it does happen or else I wouldn’t have stories to tell. I think that people are only as interesting as the lives that they live. I live life to the fullest. Back to the moment.

I guess you could call it a blind date of sorts. We weren’t going on an actual date per say, but we were meeting up at a non-descript location to lay eyes on each other for the first time as was arranged. From the moment this little cutie climbed into my truck, she couldn’t keep her eyes off of me. I was glad, because I was diggin’ what I was seeing too. We probably spent about 15 minutes talking before she took her leave. It was already late and we were just meeting up to see if we both found one another attractive. We did.

We made plans to go out that weekend before parting ways, and then she peeled off in her Explorer. I was about to make my way home when it struck me that it was Wednesday night. I looked to my left and there was the Karaoke bar. I wondered if SHE was there.

I parked and walked into the bar. The place was packed. I looked around and immediately saw HER sitting with a table full of women. I decided against walking over and acknowledging her. It wasn’t that I was scared to confront a whole table full of women or anything; naw quite the contrary, that’s when I’m at my best – when it’s show time. That wasn’t the case though, I just wanted to play the back for a minute and observe her in her natural environment. It’s the best time to learn about people, when they don’t know that they’re being watched.

I wanted to know if she was the same person she was when with me, versus when I wasn’t around. So I sat at a table for a minute and watched. She was having a ball drinking and cutting up with her family and friends. It was exactly what I expected to see. Just when I was about to find a little less obvious spot to chill at, she turned around and spotted me. Damn. Now I had to go acknowledge her.

I went to the bar to get a beer before I went over to HER table. With beer in hand, I made my way over to the table of women.


Flash Back


Girl #3 (a.k.a. Ms. Put It In The Air / Poetic Justice)


At the time, it had been a minute since I did the whole Internet date thing. From time to time it bored me. From time to time women bored me. Not that I was gonna run out and get my DL license – neva that – but sometimes I grew tired of the same ole, same ole. I like new and different shit. And I wasn’t meeting anyone, online or otherwise, that was really doing it for me.

But I decided to give it another go with the online thing…just for GP. We chatted online for like a hot second and then I asked her to meet me for drinks. She wasn’t doing anything, so she was with it. We met halfway between our homes at a popular bar and eatery. As usual, I was slightly late. Hey perfection takes time (lol). I always try to look my absolute best, especially when a first impression is on the line.

She thought I was attractive (I know because she told me so). I found her to be a cutie despite the obvious wig she was wearing. She also had nice tits and an okay ass, so I was with it. What sold me on her wasn’t her appearance, but rather her personality and charm. I liked this girl’s energy, quick whit and laid back attitude, which matched my own. But I wasn’t sure if the laid backness was all her, or the weed she smoked. Yeah, she was an admitted herbalist. Put blank, she loved the greenery.

We went out a couple of times and really enjoyed one another’s company. Thinking about I guess that’s no huge feat. I get along with most people and most women have a good time when I’m in their company or else I suppose, I wouldn’t be a Serial Dater. Ms. Put It In The Air and I got along pretty good. We had a lot of small things in common despite our differences. She was straight eastside and I westside to the core. But we had similar taste in music, books and humor. In addition, I was a writer (as you all are well aware) and she was a writer too. She was in the process of trying to write a book and she wrote poetry. She even walked around with a notebook in purse. It was part journal part poetry book.

One Wednesday night I met her at a Karaoke bar for drinks. We had a great time drinking and laughing at folks tryna be stars. Her sister and a couple of home girls rolled through. We all got along great. But before long Ms. Put It In The Air had that look in her eye. It was a look that I was pretty familiar with…a look that said, “let’s blow this place and then let me blow you.” So we bounced to my crib.

I ain’t even gonna front, I was kinda expecting the head to be the bomb. I had a very good hunch that her mouth was like that. When we got back to my place and it started to go down, I wasn’t wrong at all. There is absolutely nothing better than a woman who likes to suck dick. I don’t mean likes to suck dick because it pleases her man, I mean likes to suck dick because it gets her off. As in she could cum just from giving head. And throw in some arrogance, as in she likes to watch her self giving the head, and you got a bonafied winner. Ms. Put It In The Air was that woman.

She was on some supreme Super Head shit that night (shout out to Mr. Marcus – great video by the way). A tad too much salvia for my money, but she was straight on point. She had solidified her spot on Team Serial. Not to be out done, I piped it pretty good that night. At least I piped it enough to secure the star spot on whatever team she may have had going on. All around, it was a good night for both of us.

The cool thing about Ms. Put It In The Air was that she wasn’t disillusioned about me being her man. Quite the contrary, she said she had me figured out in the beginning. She knew I wasn’t lacking for female attention, which was partially right on her assumption. We had a mutual understanding and for the most part tried to see each other at least once a week.


Flash Forward


Ms. Put It In The Air introduces me to all of the ladies at the table. One of the ladies was her 42-year-old mom. While I was dating her 27-year-old daughter, I was no stranger to women in their forties. Hell, some of my best escapades occurred with mature women. Mature women are seasoned and know their own bodies very well.

She had also taken the liberty to show her mom my Internet page (and her mom still thought I was pretty decent guy. Go figure – lol). I took a seat at a small nearby table. That’s when I saw Ms. Chocolate Intelligence walk in with that fat boy. I felt my stomach drop a little. I did my best to not only keep my composure, but to keep up my “I don’t give a fuck” persona for appearance sake.

Ms. Put It In The Air: Why are you so quiet? What’s wrong, ain’t you happy to see me?

Serial Dater: Ain’t nothing wrong really. And yes I’m happy to see you, that’s why I even came in this place…in hopes of seeing you here. It’s just that I see a couple of chicks in here that I’m familiar with.

Ms. Put It In The Air: Whatcha mean? What chicks? And what that got to do with me?

Serial Dater: It ain’t got nuttin’ to do with you and everything to do with me. The city is a very small place. And it’s just that there are two chicks in here tonight that I used to kick it with.

Ms. Put It In The Air: So what, you gonna let them affect you’re good time? What you gonna leave now?

Serial Dater: Yeah I was thinking about it. I damn sure don’t need no drama tonight. I ain’t for that shit. And I really don’t wanna be in the same place with either of them brawds.

Ms. Put It In The Air: That’s fucked up! You’re supposed to be here to see me. Why you gonna let some bitches fuck up you seeing me! See now I’m mad.


We talked some more and I was able to settle things for a minute. Because Ms. Put It In The Air was so disgusted with what I had told her, I decided to stay just a tad bit longer so that she could get her QT with me. I at least finished my beer. After awhile had passed, I informed her that I was indeed leaving. Though visibly upset, she understood and walked with me to my truck.

Out on the parking lot I hugged her good bye and was about to bounce. “Damn, can I at least give you something before you go,” she asked. I was like sure you can. “Meet me in the backseat,” she demanded. As soon as we got into the backseat, a car with two females in it pulled up beside us. It was damn near a hundred empty parking spaces on the lot and they pulled up right next to us. I looked to see if the two women were going to get out of the car and they didn’t. They seemed to be engulfed in some sort of conversation and didn’t get out of the vehicle. Ms. Put It In The Air could care less. With her ass up in the air, practically smashed against the window, she pulled out my dick and began giving me a replay from our last encounter.

As she slobbed and stroked, I fingered her; all the while watching the two chicks conversing in the sedan next to us. They seemed oblivious to what was going on in the SUV beside them. They hadn’t even noticed that it was rocking. Talk about a deep conversation. Meanwhile, Ms. Put It In The Air wasn’t about to stop until I had not only nutted, but until she had completely drained me. My eyes rolled back into my head as I exploded into her mouth. She didn’t swallow either.

Ms. Put It In The Air rolled down the back window and spat the mouthful of semen and salvia onto the ground next to my truck. I was amazed. She then got her self together, straightened her hair and clothes and then gargled with the mouthwash I kept in the whip. I didn’t keep it around for that purpose, but it did come in handy. She kissed me on the cheek, said her good byes and then returned to the Karaoke bar.

I straightened myself up and went home. As I drove I thought to myself, “I need to get out of this city.”



This was my homage to Pulp Fiction. I hope you enjoyed.

SD