I teach dance, and men who are around always try to find a way to get a date.

I was teaching a group of JHS boys on the weekends, and their older cousin was always around. After about 2 months of watching me come and go he finally asked me out.  Now, he was very cute, nice dark skin, nice white teeth, nice swagger, the only reason why I hesitated was because he was pocket size…bite size…..mini me….I’m 5’7, and the minute you are 2 or more inches under that and I can put you in a tea cup, we have problems…but even though he was purse size, I decided a date would do because he was cute, cute, cute, so why not.

First thing that goes wrong-he picks me up about 20 minutes late. I get on him a little bit but let it go, and after a few minutes of joking and talking he is still cute, he’s actually funny, but it hits me-he has no plans.

So whatchu wanna do?” He says.

“Well what did you have planned?’

“You know I was thinking we could chill or somethin, I got a spot”

Silence.  Now— I am glaring at him, I am sitting in the passenger’s seat looking at him because I think if I look at him long enough he will be able to pluck an idea out of my brain, and….it works I guess because he speaks.

“Lemme make a stop by my cousin’s real quick to pick something up.”

I tell him ok, hoping he will pick up some date ideas while he’s at it. He pulls up to his cousins and hops out.

Ummmm can someone please tell me why this grown ass man is sitting on a pillow?!  Not a pillow I can ignore or one that blends in either, it’s a smurf character pillow; she was blue and white and had on a yellow dress.  My eyes are stuck on this blaring highlight of his height deficiency and I’m reminded now ONCE AGAIN as to how mini my mini date is- I’m also reminded I’m wearing heels so my 5’7 is at least a good 5’9 now. I sigh, suck it up and busy myself on twitter.  At least his truck is big. In about 5 or so minutes he comes up to my window

“Ay yo, my cousin says we can have a drink by him and watch the game”

Is he out of his mind? I am immediately thinking “Victim” No my ass will NOT be going to you (STRANGER) and your cousins (2^nd STRANGER) to “drink and watch the game” or in the words I heard -get rufeed and raped.  So I tell him:

“You can jog right back inside and tell your cousin plans have changed” and I even throw in a smile at the end because I am coming back home in one piece and if this nucka tries ANNNNYYYTTHHIIINGGG he knows he’s gonna get jacked up (and yes, that smile said it all).

So he moves his tiny legs as quick as he can (and you know the shorter they come the smaller the strides so let’s give him a moment) and hustles back in to tell his cousin the rapist the bad news.

10 minutes later he hops back in the car (on top of that dumb ass pillow) smelling like he swam through a field of weed, eyes so glossy I was able to touch up my lipstick while looking in them. The scent is so damn thick I have to open my window, so no ignoring the obvious; I used my hands, cleared the smoke and asked

“So….you smoke”

 “Not that much, only on occasion.”

“Going on a date with me must be one of the special ones then!”

He laughs, he actually cracks up and I let it go because I know he’s been influenced by more than my humor.

 “So sweety you hungry, you wanna get some food?”

Now I’m starving, and I don’t play that “I’m too cute to eat when I’m on a date stuff- we both already know I’m cute that’s why I am here. So YES, I am starving-but at least I don’t respond the way I’m thinking. So I just simply say

“I could eat”

“Well whatchu like?”

“Anything, I’m not too picky.”

“Aight I know some spots.”

So now I’m excited, I am ready for our real date to start, after an hour of nonsense we are finally about to get this thing going, like for real started…

PLEASE TELL ME WHY….we end up driving on Flatbush and this N*cka pulls up in front of a JERK CHICKEN SPOT.

So… this date is pretty much done but I can’t walk away, I’m not scared I’m intrigued that a dude might actually think he may be doing a good job on this one.  I’m a pretty free spirit so I’m going to go with the flow of it, but yes-this date is done and it is official we are just friends.

I put in my order for chicken & veggies (the carbs are murder so of course no rice) he hops off the pillow and out the car and goes inside.

Again, me & my homie smurfette are just sitting there looking stupid and I’m thinking “this n*cka got me, I should have just come out in flip flops and my hair wrapped.”

He comes back to the car with the food.

 “Where we going to eat this?”

“I know a spot.”

My head fell onto my shoulder so fast I couldn’t even help it-not this again; we already know how his last spot went. Now at the time I was a tweeting fanatic so all my followers already knew I was in the car with a weed smoking midget who may or may not be balanced, so I didn’t fear for my safety too much. I was fine with eating this at his house because again, twitter.

We pull a little further down Flatbush…off of Church Avenue

(Note for the non Brooklynites: Flatbush & Church avenue are the melting pots of West Indians and violent activity-not saying they go together…. they just go together on Flatbush & Church Avenues-Straight hood!)

As we drive further down he pulls into….. a parking lot.

 FML

I am sitting in front of  Graffiti Jay Z, Biggie, Martin Luther King and other random a$$ African Americans who are a part of this mural of nonsense, you know, one of the murals that just has all the black people in the world who ever existed just because every “hood” needs one. I started to tear.

No, not because I was crying, but because he had opened the Jerk Chicken and the pepper was so strong it started to irritate my eyes. I ask him to crack a window.

“So…where do you live, where’s your apartment?” Now he finds this question absolutely hysterical and after damn near choking mumbles

“Yea you know I gets around, I stay on the go so you know.”

Yeah I know that ish means no your ass does not have a place to live and you’re staying in someone’s basement. I had pretty much lost my appetite at this point and was just waiting patiently to go home.

“Why you not eating?”

“I’m good, just tired now.”

“Nah…I wanna see you eat.” He stops eating and watches me.

Awkward silence because now I’m thinking he’s a foodie, you know, one of those guys who likes to watch women eat because it turns them on.

“I’m good, I’m not that hungry right now.”

“What you watching your figure, sorority girls don’t eat? I wanna see you eat, so eat.”

As I sit and begin to nibble my jerk chicken and cabbage, I pray to the graffiti Rosa Parks in front of me to deliver me from my misery. After about 20 minutes he wraps up my leftovers, puts them in the bag and offers to take me home. He drops me off and hands me my bag of leftover chicken skin & bones and I tell him thank you and goodbye.

The next few days he tries reaching out to me and I text him

I’m good, we can just be cool

His response:

Just wait till I tell my cousins about this and how you treatin me!

Yes, this dude actually said he would tell on me. Smdh.  

This guy was obviously a waste of energy and I learned never to F* with a student’s family again-this is why you don’t sh* where you eat!

 But even though my pocket size date turned out to be a loser, all was not lost- thanks to him I got me a new Jerk chicken spot! Thanks homie!!!

X,

Lady Bk Alde