“Are we talking rough as in I do okay here and there or rough as in Top Ramen every night for dinner? His response was “Top Ramen for breakfast, lunch and dinner”.
This was the warning sign Broke Boo was giving me, a true depiction of how his current financial status wasn’t the best. Part II of this post went as follows:
After getting beyond the preliminary getting-to-know-you type of discussion which covered work, living arrangements, children and the like, Broke Boo asked if I wanted to get together just a day after our first talk. Now in case you didn’t catch it, “getting together” is NOT the same as “Can I take you out”. Call it what you want, but nowadays what comes out of a man’s mouth is more than just a matter of semantics.
On to the uh… Date.
Was Broke Boo coming to pick me up? Nope. It took me a second to realize that he didn’t mean he was concerned about how much time he had before getting back to work when he said he was “timing his brakes”. He was afraid of driving too far, and asked if I minded coming out his way and we could head to our destination – Marina del Rey.
Was Broke Boo planning on taking me to dinner? Nope.
As we were finalizing the meet up time, he said his chicken was ready and he would give me a call back after eating. I’m guessing the sound from deep down in my throat that said “Ninja WHAT??!!” Was heard because Broke Boo apologized and asked if I was hungry and if so, did I want him to save me some. Seriously dude? My stomach was a rumbling but I declined his offer for the cuisine of Chicken a la Inglewood.
Was he planning on taking me to some little bar or something for a drink or two? Nope.
I called him back and asked exactly what the plan was at the Marina if a girl was going to be self-fed, bottle watered up and hair frizzed in the outdoor elements? His reply? Talk and walk along the walkway path and get to know each other.
I agreed to meet him at his home, but sarcastically told him I would dress as if I was meeting an old friend instead of meeting someone I might date. In my mind was that little voice again saying this is some bullshit.
So go ahead, ponder why I even bothered and didn’t either hang up and delete this guy or stand him up?
I figured why the hell not! Broke Boo was a nice fella, articulate, light-hearted and funny as all get out. I suppose since my luck with the six-figured assholes like Special Agent, movie producers like The Calm, moderate money makers such as Good on P@er was shitty, why not enjoy the Top Ramen, Dollar Tree man right?
Alright, I decided to roll with this experiment and off to Broke Boo’s house I go and wasn’t surprised at all to see where he lived – along apartment row right off of Hyde Park. My inner bougieness came out in full force as I peeped my surroundings, being thankful when I saw that he lived in a gated building.
Out of the dark came a large and round figure as I made my way to his condo, and suddenly that old familiar feeling overtook my concerns about my ghetto fabulous surroundings.
Was Broke Boo’s in-person appearance anything like his online profile? Hmm, maybe.
That is if it was about 50 lbs ago, WITH a neck and other limbs. Oh yes, another case of the impostor by photo. He wasn’t ugly; in fact he has nice facial features and a nice smile but is just big. Really big, so I soon found myself wondering if the aroma of butt crack accompanied his look.
He came closer to my car, suggesting I park there for a moment and I said “Park? I thought we were leaving?”. He replies that we were, but figured since I was there I may as well check out his place. Fortunately, there weren’t any creepy feelings and coupled with the fact that I was armed with my mace AND a surgical scalpel (don’t judge me) in my right boot, I agreed to check out his digs.
Was Broke Boo’s home a modern masterpiece worthy of a spot on HGTV?
Sure, if dust bunnies in the foyer, filthy ass brown carpet (if brown is dirty, that’s a high level of nastiness), black stains of paint or tar throughout the living room floor, and cheap 2 for $499 living room furniture is your idea of “Ooh la la”. Needless to say, the tour was quick and I mumbled something about it being neat and away to his car we went.
Remember the part about the brakes, right? I was a little confused with that in mind as we hopped into what appeared to be a new SUV, dealer plates and all. So of course I’m wondering how the bad brakes go with temporary registration in the window, that is until my eyes were drawn to the driver side mirror. Wait- driver side mirror housing, because the glass was GONE and grey electrical tape was holding the part to the door. Classy, eh?
After taking in all of this, I had my oooohhh moment; Broke Boo has had this vehicle for a while, hence the broken parts and bad brakes AND the temporary registration. This meant he has NOT paid for a renewal yet and was rolling through the streets of Inglewood and Los Angeles on expired tags.
Sigh. Sigh. Sigh.
We’re almost to our dinner-less and drink-less destination, when we make a slight detour to 7-Eleven. I’m thinking to myself what on earth is he getting? It can’t be food since he just ate and it can’t be money because clearly this was an anti-funds date. I had to stifle a laugh when this fool hopped back in the car with two bags of Skittles, joking that he needed a little something sweet. Don’t worry though, he did offer to share.
This is simply too much comedy material for one night, but I stuck it out. Finally, we arrive at our destination and begin walking.
Now this much I can say – we did have a decent conversation, at which time I learned I learned a lot. For instance, he shared his preference of dating women with NO children, that he’s still bitter about all of the money spent on his last relationship and was dumped without warning, and lastly, that he developed a “frugal” approach to dating because he’s been out with many women in the past who only wanted to spend his money (really?).
Throughout the remaining hour or so of our walking gab session, I made sure I inserted key words to completely eliminate myself from being desirable to him. I told him I was still hung up on my ex, said I wanted three more children in a years time, and said something about men needing to take care of women at any expense. Oh yes, you better believe the last one was the deal breaker and the secret pleasure I had sensing his reaction to it all.
Finally, when the cool breeze had sucked the last of my flat-ironing efforts and the smell of the ocean had become too much, Broke Boo and I headed towards the car. Of course, he’s in awe of me as he continues to say he can’t believe how beautiful and down to earth I am. What’s on my mind? Whether I will simply ignore him or send a “take care” text as soon as I make it home.
So in the car we go as he glides us in his “new car” back to his home when he makes yet another 7-Eleven stop. What the hell? I know he isn’t stopping for… for… Condoms or anything??!!
Once again, being the classy gentleman that he was, I was asked if I wanted anything. Damn, my last shot at getting something out of this night but alas, I declined.
Just a few moments later, Broke Boo returned but this time, with a plastic bag halfway filled. I turned and asked “What did you get this time?” and when he looked my way, smiled and said “Oh, I’ve got the munchies, sorry.”
And there you have it… A man whose funds are limited or non-existent showing a single lady how to have a good time on a budget.
Lesson learned, no passes on finances. None. If a man wants to get creative, date on a budget or whatever- that’s understandable to a certain point. Make a good sell of the idea and I’m sorry, an outing like this is never really a good thought for a first date.
Cupid, I’m really beginning to hate you.
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