My fellow admin Chuck Spears and I were chillin at Barnes and Noble outside Union Square about a couple of weeks ago.  As we’re shooting the breeze about this-n-that, we started to inevitably reminisce about our college days at Morgan State, specifically our socialization with the opposite sex.  Neither of us had much of a batting average with the women on campus, as he lamented on the chicks he could’ve gotten at had he not been so militant.  In my case, I was still trying to work off the negative cool points I’ve amassed since childbirth.  Add that to the fact I did not come close to fitting the [college] thug or pretty-boy personae that many of the 18 -21 yr-old ladies were gravitating to meant that the average fly chick probably wasn’t gonna look my way… at all.  So I took it to the Internet; here’s one of my stories:

I met a girl who was either a sophomore or junior (I forget) at Howard who was from DC.  I believe we met in an AOL chat room – because in 1996 what other chat rooms were there (oh yeah, there was Black Voices, but that was a little later on).  At any rate, we chatted, we IM’d, we exchanged phone numbers, we talked, we phone boned then made plans to meet up out her way.

[Sidebar: At this point in history, the Internet was still in a very early stage in terms of being used as a socialization tool.  There were no Match.com, or any other dating sites for that matter, so in essence it was one huge blind date.  Very few people had pictures of themselves in their online profiles, and even then you had to be skeptical of whether the picture was of that person (instead of a friend or cousin) and if the picture was recent (and not two to three years ago before homegirl put on 25-50 lbs).  Meeting someone in person that you talked to online was considered taboo, because thanks to a few national news stories about people gone missing/dead after flying halfway across the country to meet someone from online, the average person thought that, “You can’t meet someone in person from online!  You don’t even really know them, they could be a psychopath!”.  People forget that one of those stories involved a married woman who traveled to meet a man she met in a Satan’s worship-like chat room.  I kinda hate to say this, but ARE WE REALLY THAT FUCKING SURPRISED THE BITCH ENDED UP DEAD!??!??  She was chatting in a Satan’s worship chat room, found a guy IN said chat-room, flew somewhere far away to meet this man who she met in said chat-room, whom by the way was NOT her husband (the secrets a spouse can keep from her partner… man I’ll tell ya).  There’s a lot of crazy people out there, and you don’t need to be in a Satanic chat room to run into them.  But if you so choose to socialize with such demented people, then I’m guessing this may increase you chances of dealing with a psycho by 4213978%.  I’m not one to say that anyone deserves to die or be killed, but I’m saying though…]

I actually spent the night with the girl in her dorm twice in a span of I believe two months: once before the end of the Fall semester, and again on the weekend of the Superbowl (the Patriots vs. Brett Favre’s Packers).  Not sure why,  but on the second trip, during sex I noticed that she was purposely holding back from having an orgasm.  Being that I enjoyed making a woman climax early and often, this perplexed me.  So the morning after, I asked her straight up why she was holding back.  The answer came in the form of a written note – and no, the fact that she had to write down her response was not the shocking part, but what the note actually said.  It read:

“The reason I’m holding back is because I have a boyfriend who I want to save it for.  He’s a Que Dog (Omega Psi Phi) and he’s a lineman on the football team.  He and his fraternity brothers live three flights up from me, and he’s coming down to see me at 12:45pm”.

Football team??? Que Dogs!?  Was this broad trying to get a brotha beat down or what?  I looked at my watch – it was 11:30am.  She got up to leave the room to take a shower.  “You gonna be here when I get out,” she had the nerve to ask.  I was, but you better believe when she got back 15 minutes later I was fully dressed with my coat, boots and book-bag strapped up and ready to be gone with the wind.  She walked me out to her lobby, where I retrieved my student ID, gave her one of those quick pat-hug-okbitchitstimetorunformylife-type embraces.  I then power-walked it down the hill to the Metro station 5 blocks away, steadily checking behind me in case a gang of large African-American men in purple and gold gear decided to give chase.  I was so happy to break the fuck outta dodge that I didn’t even mind paying $18 for the Amtrak back to Baltimore.

So that’s the end of this particular tale.  Oh I almost forgot: do you believe the broad actually hit me up on IM a month later to get me to come see her again (b/c her man was out-of-town playing in an away game)?  The nerve of this hooch – I mean theoretically, I could’ve kept playing the role of pussy thief.  But fuck if she thought my dick was that golden, it’s about the principle (“It’s the PRINCIPALITY, Smokey!”)  I believe if you’re gonna risk getting caught fucking another man’s woman, especially AFTER you learn she’s another man’s woman, then the sex better be worth it AND the chick better be worth it.  In this case, it was neither.  I turned down her offer, and that was that.

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Comments
  1. […] told a story back in August of a misadventure with the first female I met off the Internet, but she was only 45 minutes away.  The first long-distance date I ventured on was […]

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