Disasters in Dating

by Danielle Allen

  Desiree: Thank you! I will update you soon!!

  Twenty minutes later, I was sitting in the coffee shop that was part of a major chain. The air conditioning pumped, and I drank my hot chocolate fast, trying to warm myself up. The steady stream of people made it difficult to have advanced notice of Levi’s arrival. So, it wasn’t until he was almost at my table that I noticed him.

  I smiled, relieved that he looked like his pictures. He looked like a quintessential California surfer with his blonde tinged hair, tanned skin, and lean muscle. And although he listed being six-foot-one and he appeared to be a couple inches shorter than that, he was at least taller than me.

  Okay, with a smile like that, I’ll let those two inches slide, Levi.

  “Desiree, you are a vision. Thank you for agreeing to meet me.”

  “Thank you.” I shook his extended hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Levi.”

  “The pleasure is all mine.” He kissed my hand before letting it go. “You are so beautiful. And your hair is amazing. Can I touch it?”

  What the hell?

  “No…” I let the word out slowly, tentatively. Perhaps he was kidding, but after my Friday night dates, I wasn’t going to take any chances.

  “I’m just so fascinated by your hair. It’s so big right now, but it looks shorter than in some of your photos. Did you cut it?”

  “No, it’s shrinkage.”

  He coughed to cover his shocked laughter. “What?”

  I smiled at his innocent question. “When it’s wet or the humidity gets to it, the hair strands draw up and appear shorter. That’s shrinkage.” I pulled at a lock of my hair and watched the strand stretch, growing at least four to five inches longer. “See?”

  “That’s so cool.” He grinned. “Can I pull it? I just want to see what it feels like.”

  I blinked, looking at him blankly. “No.”

  He sat back in his chair defeated, but his smile remained. “With your hair at your shoulders like that, you remind me of Halle Berry.”

  How? In what possible way? We don’t look anything alike. We don’t have the same hair texture. We don’t have the same face shape. We don’t have the same body. In fact, she’s more of a caramel complexion and I’m more of a mocha complexion. We look nothing alike!

  “Halle is gorgeous, but we look nothing alike.”

  He just looked at me with a palpable mix of lust and awe. “You’re both so exotic. That skin alone.” He shook his head slowly. “Your exotic beauty does something to me.”

  I should’ve gotten up and left right then.

  “Exotic? How so?” I asked, taking a sip of my hot chocolate and staring into his blue eyes, daring him to say something ignorant.

  “The hair. The skin. The lips. The hips. And dare I say, the booty.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Did you just reduce me to the sum of my parts?”

  “Oh no, not like that! I’m not sexist. I was just paying you a compliment. I like more than just your looks. I like you.”

  “You don’t know anything about me.”

  “Well, not yet, but I know that I like you because I like everything about urban culture and the streets. I’m from the hood, too. My favorite rapper is Tupac. My favorite movie is Belly. I have ‘thug life’ tattooed across my stomach.”

  I was so shocked that my jaw dropped and my mouth hung open. “What?”

  “It’s a compliment, I swear. I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just that I was never attracted to the Black girls in my hometown and I can’t get over how much I want you. I’ve always wanted to date a Black girl, but there weren’t many around where I’m from. When I moved to the East Coast, it was overwhelming, but I knew it was my chance. And then when we matched, I knew that you were the one I had to pop my cherry with. You are the most beautiful Black woman I’ve ever seen—”

  “Let me stop you right there. So, you’re saying that because you’ve never been attracted to a black woman before, the fact that you’re attracted to me is a compliment? And you’ve always wanted to date a ‘black girl’ so I’m more of a bucket list item you want to check off than someone you actually want to date?”

  “No…” He looked perplexed. “No, I was just using that as an example. Um…” He squirmed in his chair, sitting up straighter. “I just meant to say that you’re hot. I’m appreciating your unique beauty.”

  I stood up. “No, you’re fetishizing me, and this date is over.”

  Despite my apparent discontent, Levi’s eyes scanned my body. Finally ripping his eyes from my hips and ass long enough to jump up with his hands out and asked, “What did I do?!”

  “Your preoccupation with my skin color, my features, my hair. Saying that you’ve always wanted to date a Black girl as if your focus is more on the fact that I’m Black and female and less to do with who I am as a person. Assuming that knowing ‘urban’ culture and Black people on TV and in movies means you know me. And for the love of God, you insinuated that I’m from ‘the hood.’ You don’t know me or where I’m from. Ugh!” I grunted in disgust as I stormed toward the exit.

  Chasing behind me with his voice riddled with confusion, he said, “I just gave you a compliment and it turned into this attitude that I’ve always heard you had. I don’t know what I did to offend you, but was it really that bad that you’re now this angry?”

  “If you don’t understand how you fetishized me even after I explained it to you, that’s the first problem. Second, this attitude you ‘heard we had’ is valid when you’re simultaneously objectifying and stereotyping me.” I threw the words over my shoulder as I opened the door to leave. “And third, you haven’t seen angry yet.”

  Quickly crossing the street, I got in my car, revved my engine, and sped off. I had to angrily scream the lyrics to the song on the radio before I calmed down enough to call Dyani.

  She didn’t answer.

  “I know you wanted to pick Damien, but since Nichelle already picked him, you went with Levi. And I told you that even though he seemed super nice and complimentary, there was something off. Well there was… Call me so I can detail how fucking ridiculous this dude was!”

  I was parked outside of the west end bakery where I was slated to meet Damien. Damien was the best-looking man out of the four coffee dates. He was also the one who, on paper, seemed to have the most in common with me. We’d had a few conversations, and he seemed cool.

  But so did the three other men I met in the last twenty-four hours.

  I walked into the bakery almost thirty minutes early and ordered a vegan cake donut and a bottle of water. Sitting in the back, I slipped in my earbuds and listened to my playlist, relaxing as I ate my donut. After I finished and threw my stuff away, I saw him.

  Damien looked like sex. He was dripping with the type of swagger that most men wished they had. He was tall, dark, and handsome with an energy that radiated off of him. He had dark eyes that looked greenish in some photos and hazel in others. But as he walked into the bakery, his greenish eyes found my dark brown ones and pierced through my soul. Although he was across the room, I felt him all over my body.

  Oh my, I thought as my panties disintegrated.

  “Desiree, I presume,” Damien said smoothly, taking my hand into his and gently guiding me out of my seat.

  Once standing, I still had to look up at him. His profile said he was six-foot-three and it appeared as though he was actually six-foot-three.

  Yes, yes, yes!

  I breathed in his minty fresh breath and his masculine cologne. “Hi, Damien.”

  He stepped back and openly looked me up and down. “You can just call me the luckiest man on Earth.”

  I giggled, rolling my eyes. “Stop it.” I started to sit down, but he stopped me.

  “Wait…” He walked around and pulled my chair out like a gentleman. “Allow me.”

  “Thank you.” I was a little caught off guard by his gentlemanliness after the coffee dates I’d been on before.

  “You are quite welcome. Y
ou deserve to be treated like a queen.” He flashed me a smile that could light up the room.

  “You are so sweet.” I grinned. “Like I told you on TenderFish, I’m suspicious of sweet talkers like you.”

  “What? Me?” He overdramatized his reaction, gesturing to himself in an over-the-top way.

  I giggled, tilting my head to the side. “Yes, you.”

  “Well, let me get us some snacks, and then we can continue our conversation about how sweet you think I am.”

  “Here we go!” I laughed.

  Giving me a wink, he asked, “What can I get you?” He paused. “And I swear if you say you’re on a diet or something, I’m walking out of here.”

  “No, I’m not on a diet, but I’m still full from earlier. Thank you so much though.”

  He gave me a look as if he didn’t believe me. “Then what would you like to drink?”

  Grinning, I held up my bottle of water with a quarter of water remaining. “I’m good, but thank you.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me, so I narrowed mine right back.

  “Okay, I’m not happy about this, but I’ll be right back.”

  He was gone for only a few minutes, and he came back with a couple of large chocolate chip cookies and two bottles of water. He handed one of the waters to me.

  “You have a swallow of water left,” he explained. “Take this and at least pretend this is a date.”

  I laughed. “Thank you. I appreciate this. And a coffee date is a date.”

  “A coffee date is a meet up. A coffee date isn’t a real date. It’s what you do when you’re trying to feel someone out.” He opened his bottle of water, but never took his eyes off me. Bringing the water to his full, sexy lips, he sipped. “And we’ve had enough conversation to feel each other out.”

  “Oh, have we?” My voice was breathy.

  “Yes.” He leaned forward. “You like me and I like you. We’ve established that. We both work for magazines. We both love what we do. We both think cats are creepy as hell. We both are only children. Both of our parents moved down south within the last couple of years. So on and so forth.”

  I smiled thinking of the list of things we had in common.

  “That’s why I didn’t get you a coffee. This isn’t a coffee date,” Damien declared. “This is an opportunity for us to officially put a name to a face before we go on a proper date.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Yes. I’m going to pick you up, take you out, and treat you like the queen that you are.”

  I felt myself warm up, blushing from the inside out. “I look forward to it.”

  He leaned forward a bit. “Does that mean you are accepting my invitation for a real date?”

  “Yes,” I chuckled lightly.

  He pumped his fist in the air comically before wiping fake sweat from his forehead. “Phew! Now that that’s out of the way...”

  We talked for an hour, elaborating on things we’d discussed on TenderFish and just getting to know each other better.

  “I need to get ready for the charity basketball game I’m playing in. I’ve had a really good time with you.” He reached across the table and ran his thumb over my knuckles. “Is it possible for me to see you again?”

  I nodded. “It’s entirely possible.”

  “Would you happen to be free tomorrow evening? I’d love to take you to dinner. I might be bruised up since I’m an old man playing a young man’s game.”

  I thought about it for a few seconds. “I believe I am free.” My lips turned upward into a smile. “And since when is thirty-seven old?”

  “Since I was selected to guard a twenty-two year old.”

  I laughed. “You’ll be fine.”

  “No, I’ll be fine once it’s over. The only thing that’s going to get me out of bed tomorrow is knowing I’ll be seeing you.”

  We stood, and he walked me out of the building and to my car with his hand on the center of my back. Grabbing the handle, he opened the door for me.

  “It has been a pleasure, Damien. I look forward to tomorrow.”

  Just before I was about to slide into my front seat, he moved forward, trapping me between him and my car.

  “I want to kiss you,” he informed me, staring into my eyes. The heat from his body transferred to mine, fusing us together. “But I’m saving it for after I’ve taken you on a proper date.”

  My stomach quivered and I nodded, unable to speak.

  “Have a good day, Desiree.” He took a step back, allowing me space and opportunity to get inside of my car and breathe easier than when he was around.

  “Have a good day and good luck in the game,” I said with a wave before my door was closed.

  I started my car and I drove off, happy and excited.

  Damien could be it. I put my hand over my loudly pounding heart as I sat at the light

  Although I was just sexually attracted to him, there was a possibility that there really could be more between us.

  I coughed.

  And then I coughed again.

  When the light turned green, I turned my car around and returned to the bakery. To my surprise, Damien was still there.

  “…not for me. Don’t get me wrong, she’s sexy and her body is banging. But she’s too dark for me.”

  I froze as I heard his words while he was on the phone and waiting in line to order.

  “Yeah, too dark. You know I only date light and medium skin tones and she has—no, you can’t have her.” He laughed heartily. “Listen, she’s got a nice ass on her. Her body is right. And she’s got a pretty face. But she’s too dark.” He paused, presumably while the person on the other end spoke. “Yes, that’s it.”

  He moved up in line, and I stayed behind him. I didn’t want to walk to the table yet because I needed to hear the rest of the conversation.

  “I’m taking her out tomorrow night and that’s when we’ll fuck.” He laughed. “And that’s exactly why you don’t get quality ass like I do. You have to make the ladies feel like you’re a gentleman. The more she feels like you’re after more than just something physical, the further she’ll let you go.”

  I couldn’t take anymore. I felt sick.

  “Yeah, I can tell by the way she was looking at me when I didn’t try to kiss her that I’m fucking her tomorrow.” He laughed. “I wouldn’t date her because of how dark she is, but we’re definitely fucking tomorrow.”

  I tapped him on his shoulder.

  When he turned and saw me, the look on his face was priceless.

  “Beauty comes in all shades. The fact that you subscribe to a paper bag test for the women you date is problematic. The fact that you stood in this long line discussing how I’m too dark to date…” I lowered my voice. “But not too dark to fuck is gross. And the fact that you and I are just about the same complexion, yet you are subscribing to colorism is not only gross, but pretty fucked up. So our date is obviously cancelled and not because of the color of your skin, but because you’re a problematic, gross asshole. Fuck you, dude.”

  Turning on my heel, I walked out. A woman that I didn’t know was behind me high-fived me on my way to the door.

  I’m going to take a little break from meeting men from TenderFish.

  Once in my car, I called Nichelle. She picked up on the first ring.

  “How was it?” Nichelle greeted me excitedly.

  “Just like the rest of them… it was a disaster.”

  Chapter 3

  “I grab you by your hair and force you to your knees. I tell you to undo my pants and pull out my massive cock. You always do as I say, so I watch you as you scramble to get my dick out. You look up at me and start licking. Since I still have a grip on your hair, I tilt your head back and force your eyes up to mine and tell you to open wide. As soon as you open your mouth, I push your head all the way down my cock until you choke on it. The sound of you gagging drives me crazy. I pull out and do it again, hitting the back of your throat with the head of my cock. You’re struggling to breathe,
but I don’t care. It makes me even harder to see the tears run down your face as you look up at me, writhing. Your big, brown eyes keep begging me to let you breathe, but you don’t fight me because you want to please me. Seeing your sexy lips wrapped around me as I fuck your beautiful face is too much and I come down your throat,” I concluded, looking up from my phone as I finished reading the screenshot of the message that made me close my TenderFish account on Monday.

  “Well, damn,” Nichelle commented as she collapsed back into her chair. Her ruby red lips parted as she struggled to follow up her comment. Snapping her lips shut, she shook her head and fanned herself.

  “He should write erotica,” Anika murmured, looking around to see if anyone at any other tables had heard us. “And we should probably keep our voices down.”

  “Damn, I’m going to miss dating,” Carmen quipped, glancing down at the sizeable diamond on her ring finger. “I love Miguel. But damn…” She pointed at my phone in my hand. “For the last month, ever since he proposed, he’s been making love to me. And I love it and him, but sometimes I just want to get fucked. I want…”—she leaned over Nichelle and snatched my phone from my hand to read the message— “I want Miguel to grab me by the hair and force me to my knees.”

  “Shhhhh!” Anika admonished us all as we cackled with raucous laughter. She playfully leaned across the table and swatted at Carmen to keep her from continuing. “Stop it!” She plucked my phone from Carmen’s hand and leaned over Dyani to return it to me. “Leave Miguel alone, Carmen,” she scolded like a mom in church. “He’s in love. And we all know that good men are hard to find.” She turned to me and gave me the look.

  I hated the look.

  “Go on, Desi,” Dyani urged, pulling my attention away from Anika’s worried, sad eyes. “What did you say in response to that?”

  I lifted my bare shoulders in a shrug. “I asked him what I would get out of that scenario. And he told me that I would get pleasure from giving him pleasure.”

  We all paused for a second before we laughed loudly.

  “You ladies seem to be having a good time,” the waiter interrupted. “Any refills?”