Ring Around the Rosie

So as a young, professional black woman in her mid twenties I have come to the realization that the shit I allowed in college is shit I no longer have patience for. I call it playing "Ring around the rosie". I don’t have time to go in circles and play games with a man. (any man) At this point in my life I realize that I’m over having a FWB. (Friend with Benefits) That was cool in college. It was easy and effortless; and if the rules were followed...painless. Don’t get me wrong...I love sex. Sex is fun and exciting and it brightens those long days at work when you just cant take it anymore and you anxiously await your afternoon plans of going home, closing the blinds and inviting him “in”. It’s kind of the light at the end of the tunnel so to speak. Where my current confusion lies is knowing when to be a little more patient and when to just say say la vie I've had enough.

I know that everyone says that you will never find a quality mate in the club which I believe to be partially true; yet I met a man at Happy Hour about 5 weeks ago. Standing at the bar I see him walk through the door. I make eye contact, smile and look away. He walks over to me immediately as if there is some gravitational force pulling him toward me. Long story short we exchange numbers. I’m excited because he is attractive, charming and speaks well. (A man that speaks well is an instant turn on) Later I learn that he is 26, he went to one of the top black colleges (full ride), he went to law school in Houston (full ride), is now a corporate lawyer for a HUGE firm, recently bought a home and has great physical attributes to boot. I’m impressed. I don’t get too excited just yet because as much as I hate it, I am definitely a cynic.

This is how it goes...We text the first 2 weeks. (WACK! What’s up with this new phenomenon of texting instead of calling? kills me) He asks to take me out the first week but I decline because I have company in town that weekend. The following weekend he goes out of town. The next weekend is a holiday weekend and we both have plans. Yada yada. This becomes a whole charade because weeks pass by and there is still NO DATE. We have infrequent phone conversations which are both pleasant and slightly argumentative because he has starts bullshitting me. I won’t go into detail but believe me (cynic or no cynic) I’m old enough to recognize bullshit when I see it. At first I try to look over it and dismiss it. (did I mention I have little patience for bullshit?) So with these infrequent conversations we keep mentioning hanging but no plans are ever made. After two attempts to cut his ass off, I finally invite him to a friend’s bday gathering.We both agree to meet there and hang, with the intentions of the two of us escaping afterward. Cool. The day of the "bday happy hour" he calls me. I’m at work but I take the time to call him back to see what’s up. The usual dialogue is exchanged..."how are you? how is your day?" blah blah blah I ask him again if I will be seeing him at the Happy Hour. His tone sounds unsure but his lips say yes. Something tells me he's not gonna show but I beat down Negative Nancy with a bat (Hiiiii ya! Take that!) "He's going to show" I tell myself. I call him when I’m headed there as he'd asked me to. No answer.(Exhale) I leave him a voicemail.Uh oh. Here comes Nancy again. (I told you to go away!)

Get to happy hour. I’m greeted by lovely friends. We sit down. I order a gimlet to calm Nancy’s ass down. I order another... 4 vodka gimlets and 1 1/2 hours later no sign of him. Check the blackberry...No missed calls. No texts either.(Siiiiiiiiigh) Here comes Ticked off Tameka followed by Pissed Priscilla. I’m trying not to feel angry but I’m definitely disappointed. Should I call him? No. Dont call. Priscilla says "hell yes girl!" but Tameka says" no fool. Why bother?", so I go with texting. I text him and say something that alludes to him losing my number and me planning to do the same with his. No text back. No call back. Nothing. I have officially been stood up. I shake it off and the next day I have erased him from my brain and my phone (text messages too. we know that game don’t we ladies? We erase the number knowing damn well we've got 30 million texts that we can refer back to at a moment of weakness.) 6 days later he calls me. I erased the number but I def still recognized the first 3. Yes. I answer.(Thanks Hopeful Holly!) Part of it is me wanting to hear his bullshit ass excuse so I can shut him down and the other part of it is me hoping he'll ask me for my work address so he can have my bouquet of flowers delivered. (a mix of Lily's and Orchids to be exact). However, this isn’t a fairytale and he sure aint Romeo, so I get the former not the latter. I lay there in bed at close to 11pm looking up at the ceiling listening to him try to G me and wondering why I awoke out of that “good sleep” I was in to listen to some lines that a high schooler would have been more clever delivering.(Exhale) As I listen, I think “Hmmmm. Why me? Maybe I was carrying an invisible sign saying ‘Dummy. Will work for dick’ and that’s why he’s STILL trying.” Who knows? Why men do the things they do is beyond me.