If only he hadn’t invited me upstairs to his place after dinner, things might have gone differently. I may not have figured it out so soon. Let’s roll back the tape to that date two weeks ago…
I’m unapologetically shallow when it comes to physical attractiveness, it’s a turn on. We know this, so I no longer pretend that looks don’t matter. A man with a high level of intelligence and great communication skills is equally sexy and if his integrity and goals are in alignment? A definite panty dropper.
It’s just so damn hard finding that perfect balance, so I try to work with some of the ones who seem good on paper. As long as the man’s photo doesn’t make me cringe, I’m really making an effort to give him a shot. Do you notice how I just down played the fact that this is really settling? Hence, the reason I agreed to talk to and then plan a dinner date with Mr. Armstrong.
The type of guy I’m attracted to tends to have a little more color to his tone though it’s ALWAYS the lighter completed reaching out to me, such as Hope. Mr. Armstrong was far to the left of the color spectrum and while he wasn’t exactly looking like Powder he sure as hell would have a nasty sunburn in the Vegas sun after ten minutes.
His saving grace? He had real substance in his profile, a well groomed goatee always (always) helps and his velvet voice spewed words like musical notes. I think we call it the gift of gab, so what the hell- I convinced myself that a dinner date in the beautiful marina where he grew up was worth a shot.
First impressions can be both a gift and a curse. I’m the type of person who is very expressive so my thoughts and feelings are pretty transparent with my eyebrows and mouth saying it all and when meeting up for the first time, there’s a fear any attempts to appear to be pleased no matter what, a person may sense that I’m really thinking “This meet up with be very brief”. Suffice to say if you arrive at the meeting spot and ignore the person who appears to be waiting near the entrance because you’re looking for the man who looks much better, that’s probably not a good sign. Hearing this same person say “How’s it going Carmen” confirmed that he was my guy.
Damn, this man was so pale in color he looked like a pastry dish and his description about being athletic and toned? Lies, lies, lies. I’ve been down this road before and had I not just driven about thirty miles to meet him i would have turned on my heel and exited stage left. People really need to cut it with the bullshit embellishments, like really. Thankfully, Mr. Armstrong he was quite pleasant to dine with and It turns out that he’s quite successful in the role of a city attorney. Decent date but his category had been quIckly defined- acquaintance or possible future friend only.
Dinner is over and we’re enjoying each other’s company, so I was open to shooting a little pool afterwards. But once we walked outside and he says “Follow me, my place is just down the street”, I gave him that look. I think one of the biggest turnoffs for me is a man inviting you to his place too soon. It just doesn’t look good either way because if you are giving off vibes that you’re feeling him, he’s likely going to expect some ass. Just the same, if you are not giving off any such vibes and you’re going to his place, he’s going to expect some ass. I guess he picked up on my body language and clarified that he had a recreation room at his condo to which I clarified that I had my .45 to accompany me.
A short time later, we arrive at his complex and he tells me we have to make a quick stop to his unit so he can grab some ice and drinks so I’m on guard. He invites me in to have a seat in the living room area while he gets what he needs. I politely declined, opting for the bar stools in the kitchen right near the door. As I’m waiting for what should have been a two minute transaction, he’s chatting about having recently remodeled his place which leads me to believe this dude just wanted to show off what he had and how he was living.
His place was nice indeed and I could tell that he (or the woman who helped him decorate) had impeccable taste but it wasn’t the plush sofa or fancy fixtures that caught my attention; it was the photographs he had adorning his bar area. Sometimes, I really hate that I focus so much on details because things the average person would glaze over are caught by my eagle eyes. Since I enjoy hearing the stories that come with pictures, coming across the largest with Mr. Armstrong and a nice looking, elderly white couple piqued my interest. It only took a few minutes for me to come up with two possible stories behind that photograph, and one of those options didn’t settle too well with my stomach so I held my tongue.
Moments later, I’ve got two stripes to his five solid in this first game of pool and it was something that he said that made me finally ask the questions:
Me: “That’s a nice photo of you from your graduation. Who are the people because you all look exactly alike even though they’re both white.”
Him: “Oh yeah, of course we look alike because those are my parents and I AM white.”
Me: “Parents? Your profile said mixed race.”
This dude just kept his angling intact and prepared to shoot again as if none of this was outside of a regular conversation which was amazing to me. So now that it’s obvious that he lied, I started asking about a couple of the same things he initially told me such as where he grew up which quickly changed from the West Side to “near Snoop Dog in Long Beach”.
The morale of this story is this – I have often said that I wanted to try dating outside my race and yes, I succeeded in doing just that. He was an interesting guy indeed and he was white but the difference here is that he is a white man who acts, talks, tries the walk like a black man. He’s what we call an Oreo and reminded me of a Paul Wall but without the gold grill and honestly, not as cute.
If that’s what I’m trying to get away from, why in the hell would I want someone who has to lie and perpetrate about being something and something that he isn’t? I just can’t with the lying even if he thought it was nothing but a little “white” lie.
Until there’s a cure…