Jealousy, also a male trait.

 

How would you feel  if someone you were dating and really liked, had a crush on someone famous, and that person was….accessible? I don’t mean “he retweeted her once”, I mean, they’ve met, or he frequents the same clubs she does, or even lives in your city. Would you care, or would you just brush it off?

Let me just save you some time: I cared. I cared for a very long time.

From about the time I was 19, I wanted to be in the music industry. I was always into music, but I couldn’t rap, sing, make beats, or play any instruments. Thus, I always wondered where and how I would fit in. I eventually found my way.

Working towards this dream, and talking all over the internet about being in the industry, thrusts you into different circles. Now I’m amongst like minded individuals, who want to do things in entertainment, in journalism, who like being in those scenes. And some of them are hot girls. A LOT OF THEM, ARE HOT GIRLS.

One would think that if you’re dating women who are constantly amongst famous and handsome dudes as part of their careers, maybe you’d have your jealousy under control beforehand.

LOL.

 

About 4 years ago, my girlfriend and I were talking about when she interviewed A$AP Rocky. She started giggling and talking about how he dresses and my jealousy switch flipped to ON. She saw me tensing up and she said “Oh Robby, come on. He was just really nice to me. Ferg is the one who made me blush!” She laughed at me, at how ridiculous I was being over all of this. She kept teasing me then gave me a kiss, so I would stop being so jealous. I immediately thought “WOWWWWWW I gotta give up A$AP now?? This love shit is COSTLY!” This was just the beginning.

In the summer of 2014, me and my relatively new date were walking around LES, trying to get a drink or 3. We end up bumping into her friends and they all decide to go to Beauty and Essex. If you’ve never been, it’s pretty nice in there, and I had only heard of it up to that point, so why not? We get in, we talk and drink a little, everything is cool. We go in the back to the couches and sit down, and there is where things went left.

In walks Mack Wilds. You know who Mack Wilds is (or you should). He’s an actor, singer, and most relevant of all to this story, he’s from NYC. Now I knew beforehand that my date had a tremendous crush on him, but I didn’t know how deep it went.

When she saw him, I kid you not, she started reapplying her lip gloss and checking her make up and hair. She was also hyperventilating. This situation is now in the red, and I don’t know what to do. I legit remember the sweat forming on my brow, and me thinking “AM I ABOUT TO GET MY DATE STOLEN BY SON FROM THE WIRE???”. I strongly thought about just leaving her ass in there, but I didn’t feel like that was a real way to go about it. I let it play out; he didn’t come over or say anything. We eventually left, I told her bye, and I got up outta there. She apologized soon after, and we even kept dating after that, surprise! Still, that shit was harrowing. I really don’t feel threatened by other dudes, but I felt threatened as HELL that night. I also liked his album! And The Wire! And The Breaks!

There was the girl who just LOVED Jesse Boykins III. Not to trivialize her as just some girl who was obsessed with a singer; I liked her a lot, and that feeling was mutual. I’m also a fan, but her tendency to constantly bring him up started to rub me the wrong way. On one date, she just went off on this tangent about how he just moved to Brooklyn, and how she hoped they’d cross paths. I mentally checked out and let her go on…until I just decided I had enough. She tried to make it seem like she wasn’t doing too much, and I was kind of uncomfortable for the next half hour or so. Now that I think of it, I’m starting to wonder if she was trying to make me feel….jealous? If so, she succeeded. After we stopped dating (it ended poorly), I kind of avoided his music for a while, because I actually couldn’t deal with it.

But why am I like this? What was I afraid of? Is my ego set so that I couldn’t deal with losing a girl to someone famous? Maybe I didn’t really believe in myself. I think once your self esteem gets to the right place, you tend to not move so fearfully. Crushes are crushes; this doesn’t mean they’ll be acted on. I feel like a part of it can even be an inferiority complex, where you feel you can’t match up. In my experience, those girls liked me enough to not just choose someone else over me, and maybe I shouldn’t have sweated it so much.

I shouldn’t have let jealousy get to me. I never acted out, but I spent a lot of time behind the scenes, quietly upset and fearful that I’d lose out to someone who was just more….everything, than me. I think what I had trouble grasping, was that women can sometimes see you as much more than you appear; you can be more than your outward appearance, your job, your social status. If a woman really feels strongly about you, it’s not as likely that she’ll just discard you for a famous dude. I feel like that’s a lot of guys’ worst nightmare, but I’ve looked it in the eyes a few times, and I’ve come out better for it. Don’t be afraid of her celeb crush sending a tweet and sweeping her off her feet while you’re at your regular ass job; she probably really likes you and values you more than him. Just treat her right, listen, and don’t answer her questions with a question; you’ll be ok.

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So, I got curved this one time, right…..

I’ve taken a few L’s with #da ladies, in my life.

It happens.

I am now one with the Sauce, so these were just stumbling blocks along the way.

ALONG THE WAY TO GREATNESS.

Walk with me.

My Very First Curve.

Her name was Courtney.

I was in 3rd grade.

It was Valentine’s Day. My birthday. Me and Courtney had afterschool together, so we were upstairs in a classroom, gluing shit together with the other kids. I had the huuuuugest crush on lil Court (or NeeNee). Light skin (THIS IS WHEN I WAS STILL A COLOR STRUCK YOUNG BROTHER….EVERYTHANG YELLA.), big brown eyes, two thick braids wrapped around the back of her head….she was THE ONE. My little 3rd grade heart swore she was gonna be my boo one day. I dont even know what that woulda entailed…holding hands??? Whatever.

Anyway, I made my corn-muffin complected QUEEN a Valentine’s Day card. Glitter, Hearts, The works. I was nervous as shit making it and put all of my effort into this more than likely trash card. She somehow comes up to me and asks me what am I holding. Fear wraps me like my small ass private school cardigan. I try to hide it and turn away…she reaches for it, I get away…she gets a hand on it and….

She reads it.

No emotion on her angelic little face. She basically tells me “its not like that!” then………SHE THROWS THE CARD IN THE GARBAGE.

SPIKED MY SHIT IN THE TRASH! I can still see the card in the trash like it happened yesterday. I think one of the teachers even saw the card and asked her about it. That day is when I learned…Earth is a cold, cold place.

The Two Piece Curve

I had a crush on this girl I went to school with in HS. She was Guyanese. This is relevant.

Guyanese families don’t play that shit, for the most part. You can’t bring Jamal in ya house for dinner. Grandma is not going to feel you on that one.

Nonetheless, I was head over heels for her and she actually liked my funny looking ass too. We spent a lot of time together at lunch, at breakfast, around school. Just all of that cutesy stuff. I was still afraid the cheeks at this point, so I wasn’t gonna escalate it to the #SmashLands. All good.

One day on a school trip, I’m sitting next to her on the bus. My soft ass teen heart was fluttering. We’re talking and she just stops me out of nowhere.

“I can’t bring you home with me.”

It’s because I’m black, as she later explains. Her family just wasn’t partial to an American black kid like myself, or kids of my “ilk”. My mom is Trini/St. Vincentian, but I don’t particularly look it (only to girls who are lying to me and trying to flirt), and I was raised pretty American, outside of my visits to Grandma Lorna’s and Papa’s (my grandfather) house. I was sorta crushed, but I got over it. I let it go. We remained cool. I still liked her. It was what it was.

FAST FORWARD!!! I’m like…22? I get the bright idea to ask her to go to Outback (I secretly have a Kookaburra Wings obsession). She said she would be down. I took my ass out there……..never showed up. Stopped answering her phone and all that. VOICEMAIL AND EVERYTHANG. Bruh.

She just didn’t like my black ass.

The College Party Curve (Pajama Jammy Jam)

I was like…19-20. At my school, the Pajama Jam was THE event. You HAD to be there, no matter how lame you were.

Enter scrawny, young Robby. I put an outlandish amount of thought into my pajama pants-based outfit. I had to be #flee. I had to. I HAD TO KILL THEM.

I hit the party with my roommates, we split up like the savages we were. Lots of girls. A lot of foolishness. A lot of fine black girls grinding on my virginal loins.

But there was ONE….ONE….that I decided I wanted really bad. I don’t even remember why. It was some animal attraction shit. Or I was just a horny sophomore.

I pulled up on her, slid up behind her….she turned around….and time froze.

She looked me in the eyes and let off the most GUTTURAL laugh I have EVER heard.

Right in my silly ass face. Laughed like she saw Rick James grind his feet into that couch for the FIRST TIME.

I just walked away. Defeated. I’m pretty sure I heard that laugh in my nightmares.

The “You Were Almost A Legend” Curve

In high school, one of my homegirls was a lesbian. She was humping the whole school. Things were #lit. Anyway, she had a girl she was messing with, on and off.

This girl evidently saw my pictures on Sconex (basically Facebook for high schoolers who were trying to hump each other) and starts telling my home girl that she….wants me? That I’m handsome? That she’s gay but she’d go straight for me???

THE HELL?

She hits me up personally and expresses this same sentiment directly to me, and I’m pretty flattered. We talk for a long while, I accidentally see her butt in my phone, YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW HOW IT GOES.

We keep talking over time and she finds out I’m a virgin. She slides it out there that “you could practice on me, if you want”.

SHE WANTED ME TO PRACTICE ON HER “NEVER HAD HETERO SEX” LOVE BOX. PRACTICE. WE TALKING ABOUT……PRACTICE.

Being the young filthball I was, I agreed. She wanted to meet up first, and we set a date. We had never met up to this point but we clearly shared pics. She was an attractive girl.

Pizza date. I was hype. Put on my little ‘fit, threw on my Nike winter jacket, I WAS KILLING THEM, FO’ SHO’.

I get to the spot and she told me she was gonna be a little late. Cool.

Half hour passes. She’s not picking up. Then she’s sending my calls to VM. Hour passes.

She’s not coming, dog. I ate my pepperoni pizza slice, and went outside…AND GOT SOAKED.

I came home and tried to tweet her…SHE BLOCKED ME.

She was not about what was she was talking about, and powerfully curved me and disappeared.

She’s kinda huge in NYC on Twitter now and still has me blocked.

STILL.

STILLLLLLLLLL.

I would have been famous like MJ amongst my friends for that sex that I never got. And I wanted it. BUT ALAS….it was not in the cards.

I tell you that, to say this………..keep on trucking. Rejection is no big deal, success is on the way.

Fuck My Ex (or why I won’t).

I see them everywhere I go.

Sometimes it’s girl’s who just look like them.

Sometimes it’s….actually them.

It’s haunting either way. Some people are cool with their exes; I’m not. I swear I’ve tried; it’s never worked. I’d like to think my love is a burning, intense one. I can’t scale back, I cant turn the oven back on to the same heat as before, I can’t just cool down and be friends…it never works.

I am simply too much.

So my exes burn out. From the land of the living to ghosts in 2 blinks. They are wisps of smoke in a burning building.

They reach out to me when I wonder how they are doing, or they appear on my timeline, or at a party. They make their presence felt. I don’t know if I manifest it or what (I’ll discuss me and my spiritual ties in another post…or I won’t!), but it happens. I don’t really reach out because I don’t have the urge to. Anytime I did have the urge, they appeared, we spoke, that was that.

When my exes get in touch with me, I aim to keep it short and sweet. This is because its very rarely just a friendly conversation; It always takes a turn. A few times, I’ve steered the vehicle; most times they’ve whipped it off road. I don’t need them back. I see myself out.

This may also be why I will probably never just be “ok” with girls I seriously date still being very close to their exes. That post relationship purgatory is an opportunistic place; usually someone wants something more than a friendly chat. I also may need to trust more. Who knows.

I was never much of a rekindler. I was never good at it. The last two times I did it, I fucked it up.

I blew it the moment I opened those doors. In my life, for me, PERSONALLY, I don’t have a reason to re-stoke those fires. And when I did, shit went bad. Mainly because I refused to believe that I made the right choice the first time (I did). My other reason is because bringing girls back from the dead is a lot like breaking a vase and gluing it back together. The flowers will still look great, it might even hold water like it did before….but one day, you’re gonna get real close and know it’s a lost cause. Best of luck.

So while my exes exist, they don’t exist on my plane, really. They might be alive in a girl’s face or style of dress, in something I read, in using something I learned from them. They also are “dead”, when I wake up in the morning and go live life. They are all great women (all of them), but I respect their place. With respecting their place, comes trusting in your decision to leave them. I trust it. I didn’t always; that took growth and knocking on doors I had no business standing in front of.

And those doors lead me into a few burning apartments. The same fire that kept us warm many a night, engulfed us.

I just happened to be the one who came back from those ashes, not afraid to get engulfed again.

clark kent.

I was worried all week.

At that time, I was worried most weeks.

Afraid that I’d wake up, and she just wouldn’t want to talk to me anymore. That she’d find someone better. Not that I don’t treat her as well as I can; or treasure her presence like a clear night sky or a warm summer night. But there’s always better. Always.

Afraid that we’d just stop talking over something stupid. Or there would be something about her that I just couldn’t deal with. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Because there’s always a shoe. I was so concerned that I was fraying at the edges, making mountains out of molehills. Except this was a little worse; the molehills were purely of my imagination.

So….I pick up my phone and begin to type frantically into IMessage. This is a summary of what I said:

“We’ve been talking a few months, and we’re getting serious, but im not ready to get married soon, even though we aren’t even official yet, and I’m concerned about the marriage thing because I lowkey feel overwhelmed by the fact that you’re a little older than me and so focused, yet, I’m younger and a fucking mess(P.S. I’m not admitting this last sentence until after the fact).”

The actual message read like the ramblings of a madman. She’s asking me “What are you saying?”. I’m explaining. It’s hitting me….I have no idea what I’m saying. She keeps working with me, even though I’m clearly losing my mind and don’t know what point I’m even attempting to make. Her response, amongst other things, is why she is very, very special to me. (more paraphrasing)

“We are hypothetical, it could all end out of nowhere. I don’t want it to, but I don’t worry about what’s next. Of course, I’ve thought about how you might ask me to be your girlfriend one day, but I don’t dwell on it. I just try to enjoy what we have. I also haven’t really thought about marriage, thats years away. I’m not ready for that either!”

Relief. I felt relief. But through that entire text conversation, I felt myself getting more and more upset. Not because of her or anything like that; but because of something going on internally. Around the middle of the conversation, I was blinking back tears and admitting that I felt so stressed and out of sorts because….I’ve really never gotten to this point with a girl I really liked.

I didn’t know what to do. There was no bullshit between us; all of our times are good. In the absence of negative energy, or me being pissed, or her doing some ridiculous shit…I filled it with worry. I was afraid. Afraid this would go how it usually goes; things go well and then things just go to shit. I’d like to say I’ve become numb to it; I have not.

Regardless, here I was, destroying a good thing for absolutely no reason. I called her later that night because when you text someone a shower of emotion, its the LEAST you could do. I also had to do something else I’m not familiar with: talk her out of rinsing her hands of me.

We planned to go on a date that weekend and she texted me (the same night of this discussion) that maybe we shouldn’t see each other that weekend because “maybe you need to figure things out”.

Ok. Full disclosure: I was begging like fucking Keith Sweat. NEVER IN MY LIFE, HAVE I DONE THIS. Girls do not cut me off, ever. It legitimately happened ONCE, my entire life. Either we just agree to go our separate ways or I end it. If a girl wants to go, I accept it, I keep sliding. She wanted to allow me time to sit down and all I saw was “this shit OVER, ROBBY!”. I couldn’t allow that to happen. Her reasoning behind canceling was due to her feeling that I was insincere about wanting to be around her, and I understand why.

My original text message was the type of shit guys say to girls when they want to create some distance. I didn’t want distance. I wanted clarity on my own made up concerns. Only I had the answers.

To bring things up to speed, I’m still working through the paranoia from my past, and pouring myself into my current situation. I never believed I was self destructive, but I clearly have the traits. I will work through my shortcomings, because she is important enough to me that I will address them. Life provides you with plenty of good things, but to squander them because of your own fears is paying the universe a disservice.

Smash REAL Fast.

You know what I never got?

Male cliches about dating and sex. Mainly sex. ‘Cause I’m in my mid 20’s and thats what every discussion turns into. Let us move along.

Sometime last week, a friend dropped the dreaded “She wanted to have sex too quickly” (wtf is too quickly, that’s like saying “Damn, this french toast and bacon with extra syrup has arrived in 3 minutes, I am UPSET”) arose. Now, don’t get me wrong, being a dude and not wanting to have sex immediately isn’t out of the norm. It’s pretty normal actually, I think (I don’t have any friends). But that’s not the issue here.

He DID want to have sex. As has every other dude who has bought this same situation to my attention.The issue here is she has now become a “hoe”, because she wanted to have sex with YOU, as soon as POSSIBLE.

This logic becomes more flawed to me the more it comes up; perhaps it’s time I express my thoughts and feelings.

To put it plainly, you’re probably attracted to her. I don’t know you, but you probably are, random guy. You agree on a date with a woman, you might even want to hit, my man! Let’s not waste time lying! Suppose the stars decide to align in a way that makes her wanna have sex with you “quickly” (what that means depends on who you are). Are you telling me you’re horrified and disgusted by her behavior? It’s cool if you are, but why?

You two want the same thing. If you don’t know what to do here (pls), you can decline. Declining is an option. NO ONE DECLINES HERE, BUT THEY CONSTANTLY CALL HER A HOE AFTER. If this way of operating is so filthy to you, are you not aware that you’re wading in that same muck once you remove your Green Lantern briefs?

Is it impossible that she likes you and is at ease in your presence? Aren’t you a SUPER COOL GUY who gets girls with ease? Shouldn’t sex come to you quickly, like that second drink you hideously overpaid for on vacation? So which is it?

A) You are not the Casanova you pretend to be.

B) Don’t believe a girl would want you sexually ’cause she just digs you like that, it has to be a charity case.

C) You’re just a loser IDK I got nothing.

Which brings me to “SHE DOES THIS WITH EVERYONE!!!!!”. This comes with 0 proof, 84 percent of the time. You really think she’s enamored to the point of sex with every dude she has a dry ass grilled chicken dinner with (with a WEAK ASS mixed drink on the side)? There’s also a bigger problem here….

You probably do this with everyone too (or desire to).

So, this is an interesting time to become the Morality Police.

She may really do it with everyone.

YOU DON’T KNOW. YOU STILL HIT. YOU DON’T ACTUALLY CARE.

The saddest part that gets overlooked is “She does this with EVERYONE!” is your first thought when offered sex. Your self-esteem is shot, and you are totally unaware of this. But no, really, she probably doesn’t do it with everyone. Men tend to horribly overrate sexual promiscuity while indulging in it and trying to say “Its different”. It’s not. You like to have sex? Go have sex. One less person bitching on Twitter about infantile things.

Actually the idea of “what is sexual promiscuity” lies on such a wide range that the term nearly no longer makes sense. Think the term made more sense in less liberated times (I’m not even sure these are “liberated” times, if I may be honest.)

Lastly, while still on the topic, waiting to have sex is not a gold medal of chaste. It just means, you want to wait to have sex. I’d like to think both genders have done it. However, this is more about women. I know for a fact, that dudes still use “She made me wait, she must be trustworthy/a good person/not juggling multiple sexual partners” in their grading system. No.

I tend to believe that most women who overlook your tendency to not brush your hair & wear jean shorts enough to have sex with you, wanted to do it beforehand. Some girls will have sex with you as soon as they decide they wanna do it; some will wait months/years/decades. It is, what it is. In my mind? When they make that choice doesn’t really change my view of their “purity” (Purity. LOL. You break 21, you’ve done some CRINGE-worthy shit, I PROMISE you).

I don’t think “OMG SHE IS HAVING SEX WITH ALL OF NYC THATS WHY SHE OFFERED IT TO ME SO SOON HELP PLS” nor do I think “She’s making me wait until Jay Electronica takes that fucking Ewok robe off and gets back in the studio before she’ll let me smell it! She must be a good girl!”. The urgency with which they have sex has nothing to do with whether they are a piece of shit, or not. JUST TRUST ME. It just means as I said before, that she likes sex. We all like sex. C’mon.

Before I Leave…

 In HS, a close friend of ours was parading around his girl and was bragging to us that she was a virgin. He couldn’t wait to 360 windmill in her paradise of VAGINE.

One problem. She was having sex with someone in our circle. Or better yet, she did it months ago. But she was making Close Friend #1 hang on, and he was excited to cash in soon. This girl he put stock in, and added points to because she was a “virgin”, was really just a liar, who had sex with his associates then struck it from the record. So there’s that.

I also grew up with a girl who was making some dude wait for months to have sex. She is well known in my hometown, for you know……having sex. Getting plowed. Getting excavated by the wee wee hammer. I knew, everyone knew, she was not shy about it.

Anyway, he didn’t know. He stuck around because he thought she was a “good girl” (whatever) and didn’t have a lot of sexual partners, thus making her more desirable in his opinion.

She was holding out so she could recover from Chlamydia.

Y’all have a nice day, though.

…but really though.

You know what term/thought process always rubbed me the wrong way?

Sloppy Seconds.

Now…now before you judge and begin to wonder where the hell this is going , bear with me.

I always see or hear it used in the same instances.

Let me start with the worst.

The Phantom Sloppy Seconds

“Nah son I’m not doing it because I heard someone hit!”

“Who?”

“I dunno I just heard….”

(-_-). Not to air it out but a friend of mine just refused to even bother with a girl we both know who was throwing it to him on a go route. He had the corner beat by like 5 steps but he didn’t want that box touchdown. Because she is an alleged whore. That no one can verify. Oh.

He was clearly concerned that other PEOPLE we knew drummed her when in REALITY…they probably did not. He more than likely even USED the term sloppy seconds. Foolishness.

Don’t let some shit you can’t verify separate you from someone you’re interested in. If your energy is right , you can feel people out. You can tell who’s good for you and who just isn’t if you just….allow yourself to feel it. Always held true for me and I’m a regular dude. This isn’t just in a romantic aspect either.

Your Ex is getting plowed/plowing someone new and you are bitter Sloppy Seconds.

Now , you’ve either done this or know someone who did. You become aware that a past conquest/bae/boo/lover/wifeyyyyyy/hubbyboo has someone new. Perhaps you even know that person. You hiding those tears as you bark out….

“THATS AIGHT , THATS MY SLOPPY SECONDS! HE/SHE CAN HAVE MY LEFTOVERS!!!”

Your soul bleeding when you say that shit….but it sounds cool. You think you got the world fooled; you do not.

If you didn’t care , you wouldn’t say some extra salted popcorn shit like that. But it happens allll the time. Face it: someone will be after you just like someone was before you. Sometimes it’s tough to accept they’ve moved on; sometimes it isn’t. Either way….don’t play yourself like this! They are not your “sloppy seconds”. Just someone from your past. Now go watch a funny movie or something and lighten up.

and finally….

“That’s My Dude’s Old Jawn But She Bad Doe But He Said Its Okay So Yeah” Seconds

No. Just no.

If he liked her?? Like had feelings?? Don’t do this avoidable shit to yourself.

Dudes ALWAYS lie in this situation because they don’t want their friends to think they are “soft” or “cuffing” when in all reality….asking your friend to not penetrate someone you once/still love is….A PERFECTLY FINE REQUEST.

But thats hindsight. At 20 , this isn’t such a clear choice. After that though……the excuse disappears.

I can speak to this because I’ve been on both sides of . I passive aggressively said I had a problem with it as opposed to “FOH I’LL KILL YOU”…which is what I felt on the inside. Long story short , it didn’t really go anywhere cause he fumbled the cooch in the 4th quarter and I ended up exacting revenge indirectly in the future. BUT YEAH…… situations like these are bullshit from top to bottom. No idea if women end up in this sorta spot (and if so….lemme know in the comments.) To get back to the point , these type of “seconds” situations have far too many awkward subplots.

I’m not talking about you weirdos who share girls with your dogs. Unless you dunking groupies and yall popular or something this shit has always made me kinda cringe. I could NEVER and I LOVE my inner circle. We have plenty in common ; the same snooches is just two feet past where I wanna go. If y’all dont care and the person yall about to share doesn’t care…well shit….cook. JUST DONT ASK ME TO GET INVOLVED …YUCK MAN.

Before I go let me say this:

We are all Sloppy Seconds. Me. You. The girl who rung up your Funnyuns tonight. The bartender dude. Unless you 13 years old , whoever you meet has had someone else in the past. If that’s keeping you up at night….you have bigger issues at hand. No one wants untouched snow. Unless the prospect of sex being reduced to sliding up and down on top of a surfboard is your kind of scene. If it is……..cool. It’s 2013….Robby isn’t judging.

dream sellers.

So a week or so ago , I was enjoying wings with my coworkers at a FINE hot wings and alcohol establishment downtown. Naturally , since we are all 20 somethings ….the conversation leapt to sex. I was playing the background but I got drawn in. While I don’t flee from these types of convos , I play it a little safe at first.

My dude basically says he lies to women to get them to give him what he wants. By what he wants I mean the box…. and by the box I mean vagina. and what that means is he…yeah nevermind you get it.

I was just listening , eating these hot wings like it was my last meal,  until he said “Robert does the same thing!”

*snatches needle off the turntable*

NAH.

I pride myself on not lying to women for dates , sex , extra beef patties at Golden Krust , or Madden before my paycheck comes. But he feels we are kindred spirits. He then goes on to say he “lies to girls he feels he can’t get otherwise….”

Now I’m not mad at him. Do what you gotta do I guess…..dating in 2012 is a very scummy game and nothing really surprises me anymore. Maybe it’s because I’m in a big city? Who knows.

But me personally?? Lying to women isn’t a strategy I can work with. Makes me feel guilty. I don’t like to be deceived….so I don’t do it to anyone else.

With that said….being 100 percent honest will not stop a woman from trying to kill you. So its a Catch 22.

I say all of that to say this. How many people do you think are outright lying for dates/sex/relationships? Are you one of them?? Why do you do it?