A How To...

I got awesome on Friday!

After work I met with a dear friend. We met at Stan's Place, a restaurant with New Orleans style cuisine and ambience, very nice and quaint. The food is so delicious, I recommend the salmon burger, it comes on an English muffin, so delightful! The address is 411 Atlantic Avenue, between Nevins and Bond streets, in Brooklyn.

Anyway, we are single and need to know we are not the only ones in the world that see that dating may not be a viable option right now. That now is the time to perfect our respective hustles and stacking chips like the responsible young women we are. Besides, no one is looking to be saved and I am not trying to struggle, if I have you dough, you have dough and then we can build together. I firmly believe in coming to the table, in any circumstance, with something tangible as to be recognized as an equal. HOWEVER, you still have to pay for my meal though, after all I am a lady.

So, we are discussing our gripes and ignorance as to what allows the men we encounter to be irrational and ridiculous. They are insecure and I have no time to tell someone that if they would have just stepped correct, I could have pulled my panties, to the left, to the left. But, because they want to go act crazy I am forced to be chaste. We get on the topic of Jewish men and how they love them some black women, not to marry, but to date and or patronize (read: prostitutes); because they will date your black ass for years and then go to Israel to get married (generally speaking).

Fast forward, it is 3:30 in the morning, I, along with some friends, migrate from this party to a bar nearby. I am assuming it was close by because I was crunk and time flies. Not to mention I made a new friend at the party but could not tell if we were flirting or innocently making conversation, I am a mixed bag. Either way at the bar, after opting for a pint of Guinness as opposed to a chilled shot of Patron. La madrugada never calls for tequila. A mutual friend, Jewish male, approaches me. I wait and let him figure out how is going to approach this situation. He begins to explain that he finds me attractive and that he likes my haircut (it was not cut but I know a trick or two). He ventures further and states that he is attracted to women like myself (read: black)and then he fumbles over some other phrases. I decided I heard enough so I stopped listening.

Simply, I state, Let's make out. We did and it was cool.