IT CAME FROM THE COURT HOUSE!

Okay people, so I’m tryna get back into the swing of things. If you promise to read this stuff, I promise to try and post, at minimum, one story per week. I’m still rather busy in my personal life, but I’ll make time for you folk. ;o)

I’ll keep this new offering short and sweet.

Back in my early days of Internet dating and other related exploits, I was at work and browsing profiles when I happened upon a thick attractive red bone. I viewed the pics, read what dribble she had to say and then I sent a note. Right away I got a response and the Serial Dater was immediately in play. We decided the typing back and forth thing was a drag, so we exchanged work phone numbers.

I found out that she actually worked right in downtown Baltimore at the courthouse, which was a stones throw from my building on the corner of St. Paul and Baltimore Streets. I proposed grabbing a bite for lunch together, so that we can better get acquainted. She initially agreed, but just prior to lunchtime she called to cancel, citing too much work to do. But she did have an alternate plan. Everyday, on her way home, she passed my building in order to make it to the train station. She suggested that I meet her on the corner where my building was, when she got off of work. I didn’t get off until after 5 pm, but I agreed to meet her there.

I sat at my desk watching the clock. It was almost 4:30 pm (Our agreed upon meeting time), so I started getting myself together and hit the elevators. Because I was located on the 24th floor, it took a minute for me to hit the bottom floor lobby. When I reached the bottom floor, I was roughly 10 minutes late. I didn’t see the girl from the pictures in my building lobby, so I went outside to look around. Still no sign of her. So I began to walk in the direction she would’ve taken to make it to the Commuter Rail station. I stopped about a half a block away and began scanning in all directions to see if I spotted her.

Just when I was beginning to think that she stood me up, I saw this woman about a block or so down the street, standing on a corner diagonally from where I stood and she was staring in my direction. Now I didn’t recognize the woman looking at me and she didn’t resemble the red bone cutie from the pics. That’s when it hit me…maybe I’d been hoodwinked…bamboozled…led astray….I didn’t land on Plymouth Rock…(you get the picture). The woman I saw on the corner wasn’t cute, so I decided to book it in the other direction.

She looked as though she was heading in my direction, so I dipped into a coffee shop to hide. I stayed in the coffee shop for about five to ten minutes in hopes that she kept it moving and didn’t see me duck out. I thought I waited her out, so I made me way to the front door of the coffee shop to leave. I opened the door to roll out and then Bam! There she was. Despite my efforts, I was forced to have an encounter with this Moo Cow.

Ms. Totally Through: “Serial? Serial Dater is that you?”

Serial Dater: {expressed nervously} “Hey you. Whazzup…you”


*I know what you’re thinking and/or saying right now. Why didn’t you pretend that it wasn’t you or that she had the wrong person? There are a couple of reasons why I didn’t pursue this coarse of action. One – I unfortunately look exactly like my Internet pictures. So anyone who seems the pics can usually pick me out of a room of strangers. Two – despite my stories, I really am a nice guy, so it’s hard sometimes to totally diss girls. But I’m learning people, I’m learning.

Ms. Totally Through: “Sorry I wasn’t at our agreed upon spot, but when I didn’t see you there, I started toward the train station.

Serial Dater: “Don’t let me keep you from missing your train.”

Ms. Totally Through: “It’s okay, I got a minute or two to spare. So how are you?”


It was talking, but all I could hear was blah, blah, blah, Moo, Moo, blah, blah, blah, Moo. I have to describe this chick to you because she didn’t look anything like the chick from the photos. Granted the pics I saw were Glamour Shots, she wasn’t even the before version of the woman in those photos. So that meant she pulled a serious okie doke. The woman in the photos I saw was curvaceous, light skinned, sexy-thick and cute. This chick didn’t even know what any of these descriptives meant. She was pushin’ about 5’8” – 5’9”, she was a pale yellow complexion with a face full of freckles and she was Barrel-shaped. No curves what so ever, just completely round around her middle.

She was wearing shortalls (overalls but the shorts version) with one of the straps hanging off (like dudes – with the exception of myself because I hate overalls – used to do in the 80’s when they thought that shit fashionable…country bastards) and a white tee beneath. I scanned down to her feet and they were jacked to high hell. She had decrepit toes and was wearing Jesus sandals to boot. We all know my take on chicks, who wear Jesus sandals. I don’t fuck ‘em (just a preference). That bitch, so wasn’t Jellin’ and I get turned off when it’s hammer time in your feet region.

I scanned back up and it only got worstlier (lol). I’m no fan of freckles either, but they are tolerable if you are cute. And she wasn’t. To match her pale yellow skin and her freckles, she had a lazy eye (ala Biggie Smalls) and it scared the shit outta me. Her hair was the frosting on this monstrosity of a cake. She wore her brownish, reddish-colored hair in those dookie prison cornrows. We not talking freshly down either like Iverson or R. Kelly, her shit look like they had been in there for nearly a year. They were all frizzy and shit. Then it hit me again, she said she worked in the courthouse, but maybe she didn’t work there but was rather recently released from Cell Block H (with Bee and ‘nem). ;o)

Whatever the case was, I didn’t care. I just wanted those minutes of my life back. I wanted this horrific meeting to be over and I wanted her to return back to the other wilder beast in her herd. I’m sure there was injured calfling that needing nursing or something. (Okay, I kid, I kid). But it really was bad.

I finally stepped in to cut the convo short. I told her that I had to return to work to finish an assignment. She had to keep it moving too, so as not to miss her train. Before going she asked about my weekend and I said some bullshit. Then she told me that she was going to Chicago over the weekend to attend a friend’s wedding. She subliminally put an offer on the table for me to join her and attend the wedding. I almost threw up at the thought and ignored her. Finally we said good-bye and I was looking to quickly get out of her presence and back to my cubical. The whole time we stood in front of the coffee shop, I feared that someone I respected would see me with this thing from the courthouse.

I tried to walk away and you know what this nasty moo cow did…she leaned over and hugged me. I was so turned off that I wanted to bathe and repent. I walked off horrified and never looked back. That whole weekend I couldn’t shake the experience of my encounter with that woman. While I was thankful, I didn’t give her my home number, I began to worry about her still having my office number. That Monday morning, a bit of anxiety began to develop. I knew she would be calling and I didn’t know how to handle it nicely. I should’ve cussed that bitch out on site for lying and pulling a fake out move with her photos. But I decided to chill.

Just as I feared, my phone rang at 8:01 am. She must’ve couldn’t wait to call me. I was still traumatized, but I think quickly on my feet. I answered the phone.

Ms. Totally Through: “Hey handsome how was your weekend?”

Serial Dater: “It was, what it was, nothing to report.”

Ms. Totally Through: “It was good meeting you Friday. I really enjoyed our brief convo.”

Serial Dater: “I see.”

Ms. Totally Through: “Soooooo. What do you think?”

Serial Dater: “Think about what?”

Ms. Totally Through: “Think about me. And be honest, I can take it. But I really want to know.”

* Now What I really wanted to say was that I thought she was an utter and fucking mess. And that she should really consider killing herself and do the world a favor. But I took the high road.

Serial Dater: “To be honest…you’re not my type. I don’t like….tall women and with you being taller than me, it really ain’t gonna work out. I don’t even like having tall friends.”

Ms. Totally Through: “I understand and I appreciate your honesty. Maybe we can still be friends online.”

Serial Dater: “Maybe. Hey I gotta go. Layta.”


I was pissed that she even put me in a position where I felt the need to lie. But I didn’t want to totally crush her, so I did something nice. I lied.

I wonder what ever happened to that brawd. I wonder if she pulled the wool over someone else’s eyes or she has been put out to pasture or turned into glue. Hmmmmm.