A couple years back, I met this really sexy fine, SWT having dude in the club in New York. I mean, the brutha had it going on with something kinda ugh… and randomly, his family was from New Orleans – which gave him all kinds of sexy style points in my book. (only a New Orleanian would randomly meet someone in New York whose family is from New Orleans lol) The crazy thing is that our connection almost never happened, and to this day I’m amazed that it did and amazed at how royally I effed it up.
On the particular night in question, I was pretty freakin’ drunk. I mean really really drunk. And anyone who knows me, understands that a really drunk D-Magic = one of two things: I’m either extra flirty/horny or extra extra emotional. This night hilariously produced both. At one point, towards the end of the evening, I found myself drunkenly texting Pimp C about how much I just realized I still loved Jake and that he was my “sole mate” <— yes, I spelled it that way, which means I was either that plastered or that this blog is on my mind way too much. I’ll go with the latter to make myself feel a little better.
Anyway, after texting back and forth with Pimp C (as to avoid spilling the beans to anyone else – namely Jake), my emotions somehow swelled into the most ridiculous and random fit of spastic tears ever at a club. Literally, everyone around me was either getting their mack on or p-popping on a handstand on the dance floor, and there I was balling my freaking eyes out. And this was right before I met said dude.
Somehow, between realizing I needed to get myself together and C-Murder going into den mother mode and telling everyone they needed to get the hell home right now, I swallowed my tears, shook off my emotions, straightened up my posture and turned around to see this gorgeous man smiling at me from the bar. Now, I don’t know if he saw what came before our encounter, but I would assume that he didn’t – because I would think he would have thought I was far too crazy to approach then.
And approach he did – after I hit him with the flirty smile and my one-finger come hither I was practicing due to my 9 in 09 goals set up in 2008 (wow that seems so long ago!). Clearly, the emotional drunk had flipped to the flirty drunk and D-Magic was in full swing. We talked for a few minutes (long enough for me to learn that he grew up in Cali, now lived in New York, and of course – his family was from New Orleans), I took his number (because I was being bold or something), and I left in just enough time to seem mysterious yet appealing – but I told him I would call him in a day once I got back to DC.
Which I meant to do, really. I had every intention on doing that… except that when I woke up the next day, most of my memory was revolved around the meltdown in the club… not the mackdown in the club. So a week and 1/2 went by before I ever remembered to call him. Let me tell you, he was less than enthused when I did. In fact, our conversation maybe lasted a minute and I knew when we got off the phone, I wouldn’t hear from him again. I also didn’t call back, because well… what’s understood ain’t gotta be explained. Lil Wayne.
The thing about that though was that as upset as I was initially, that didn’t last long because I realized that I would have done the very same thing had a guy tried to wait almost 2 weeks to call me back. Hell, I broke up with a guy because he didn’t call me for a week in high school (and hit him with this gem of a line “Toni Braxton wouldn’t take seven whole days and neither am I.” I tell you, I was always meant to be a writer LMAO!), so could I really be upset that a guy was no longer interested when I waited almost two? I couldn’t. And he had every right to be upset. I showed him with my actions where I placed him in my priorities and if you’re that far down in the beginning – it can only get worse from there.
That was also the time that I realized that guys get fed up just as much as girls do. Intrinsically, I knew that… but I’d never really experienced it until then. But that was my eye opener and it showed me that as a woman, I can’t take for granted that a guy won’t get his feelings hurt by my actions. That may sound simple, but a lot of women do it. We’ve been conditioned to almost believe that men are stone sometimes. They’re not. And it took a missed opportunity in New York a few years ago with some guy whose name I don’t quite remember to really bring that to light for me.