Date Me or F*ck You Pt. 2

It’s cuffing season. I am officially depressed.

Pass the Prozac and Patron.

My dad, Mr. Playa from the Himalaya, asked me, “When are you getting married?”

I’ve never been more disturbed by a simple question in my entire life. I meet people (men) everyday. I’ve toned down my looks, I’ve started praying, I’ve stop hanging out a certain places, and I’ve even read Steve Harvey’s “Act Like A Lady, Think Like a Man” (joking). I cannot seem to catch a break when it comes to men. My hormones are going crazy, my tits are getting heavier, and ovulation has become VERY obvious – my body is clearly telling me that its time to get a grip on my love life and start a family.

You’re in a rut.

That was the response I received after turning down sex from an ex-fuck buddy friend associate. I’ve never been so insulted in my entire life. What’s even more disheartening is the fact that he felt comfortable making a statement to me like that… without any further thought of its repercusions or how it would come across. I immediately blocked him on every channel imaginable. I was done. Rut = Rock Bottom. And to claim that I’ve hit rock bottom for not wanting to sleep with you will land you a starring role in SNAPPED on Oxygen. My linesisters met a decent guy (who happens to live in NYC) while on vacation in Jamaica, thought of me, and decided to “hook us up” as he appeared to be perfect for me. Well he was perfect until we became Facebook friends and I noticed that he had photo albums dedicated to nothing but scattered ass. He’s in his 30’s and STILL frequents annual ratchet events such as CIAA in North Carolina, Miami for Memorial Day Weekend, Jamaica – ATI …shall I go on? The thought of this man taking random pics of scattered ass while on ratchet vacations and spending his ‘Wallstreet’ money is alarming. He went on a rampage about wanting love and finding the one. Signing up for dating sites in search of a wife but he’s still carrying on like a 21 year old boy who just had a threesome for the first time. He even had the audacity to tell me that he thinks that all relationships should start our as sex or casual relationships –no real commitment – leaving plenty of room for each party to have options.

Fuck you.

I’m too old be dating for the hell of it. And I’m far from 21 – where sleeping around was forgivable. A few weeks ago, I met a 34 year old black, surgeon with no kids. Jackpot much? Yeah right. We were doing good until he sent this:

Please note: This text message was sent less than 24hrs after meeting him.

We went from talking about gentrification in Brooklyn and Daddy Rick Ross ‘s greatest hits – to send me a pic…with booty shots. How exactly do you take a booty shot? That was the most educated, ignorant “send me a pic” request I’d ever received. I should probably stop being so uptight and respect his frankness. Right?

What ever happened to the “getting to know you” stage? I’m starting to miss having a landline phone, taking down numbers in your little black book and writing love letters. The late night phone call with Luther Vandross playing in the background. I want that kind of relationship building. Not a text message or a Facebook like. Break-ups, engagements, and commitments are now defined via a Facebook relationship status update. Sex is now virtual thanks to Skype. And dinner and a movie is a stretch due to Netflix and Grubhub. For once, I wish I lived in a rural or remote country where a man has no other option but to travel a great distance or call just to have a piece of me. Speaking of piece…

A Piece of a Man is better than No Man

I was floored when I learned that a mutual friend’s blissful relationship is actually a competition. She gave herself a title, #1, and even suggested that #2 (girlfriend of 1+ years) is slowly phasing out. Due to the lack of eligible men, she has succumbed to approaching dating as if it was relay horse race. The man of her dreams, who’s wining and dining her one-day a week, while managing to maintain a full-time relationship – is apparently the one. I’m sorry to say this, but the same way you get your man is the same way you’ll lose him. I won’t go in on her – she’s not alone. Even I have approached and pursued men that were in relationships. Dating someone else’s man is no longer taboo – it’s a reality. And let’s not get started on dating a married man. Heartache City. According to my grandmother – a piece of a man is better than no man. Maybe she’s right.

I can’t speak for all women but dating has truly become a thing of the past. And if you’re asked out on a date, you’re likely expected to put out if the bill exceeds $50. Men, especially in New York City, have tons of women at their disposal. If you aren’t in complete agreement with your man, you’re dismissed via a subliminal tweet or generous text message. There’s no need for men to go above and beyond due to the fact that there are 100 other “eligible” women in the same neighborhood – willing to do half of what you’ve done for free. I once raved about the pro’s of online dating. However, as of late, dating sites have become a married man and whore’s paradise. Don’t believe me? Take advantage of a free trial on Match.com or the dreadful Blackpeoplemeet.com.

Now that cuffing season is upon us, I’ve started to get phone calls and Facebook messages from men who so-happen-to-be-in-the-neighborhood let’s grab drinks. I’m not sure about you, but I can’t handle season relationships. I want someone whose intentions and commitment is strong throughout the entire year – not just Fall/Winter. There’s a small part of me that feels as if I should take advantage of these seasonal men – go on dates, mess around…just to get a damn Christmas gift. Talk about the struggle.

Am I alone in the struggle? What are some of your dating frustrations? Any off the wall horror stories? Let’s chat. Oh. By the way, “cuffing season” is not real…let’s not endorse this season any longer.

Part 1 of Date Me or F*ck You, here

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