Hi, new followers!
I’m excited that you’re here and humbled by your attention. I’ve been working on a book called Single & Happy since the end of last year, and I’ve been posting excerpts here. The book will be published by 2013.
I appreciate your feedback and thanks again for reading.
From the book:
Nothing sucks as much about being single as the pressure to date. I wouldn’t even get to the second syllable of single in a conversation before someone asked me why I wasn’t proactively working to change my relationship status on Facebook.
“I have a great time being single,” I would reply. “Dating can be fun, but it can also be hard.”
“Have you tried? Are you dating anyone now?”
Yes. No. It’s bizarre.
It did not occur to me to actually ask my friends to hook me up on dates until I was in my twenties, in the weird Twilight Zone where I found myself outside of a social context that would be helpful for meeting people (college) and in a work situation where the majority of my colleagues were older and married, so all of their friends were older and married.
My guiding principles aren’t that lofty. Some of these relationship guru people will tell you that all black women want partners who are rich and drive Maybachs. I have dated men who took the bus regularly. Nothing wrong with a little public transportation.
I don’t, however, date or have affairs with people who are already in committed relationships. My heart is big and strong, but it also breaks easily. I don’t want to share, and I know that I can’t.
The problem with being all open and bohemian, though, is that you get something like a box of chocolates left out overnight on a Texas porch in midsummer: A mess.
I met one guy in California who was a bus driver, for instance. He was a good example of how being open got me in trouble. He took me out to dinner at Fresh Choice, a salad buffet place (yes, with trays) and insisted that I dress up for the occasion.
It is the only date that I left before it was officially supposed to be over.
I was later assigned to write a speed-dating story for the San Francisco Chronicle when I was a features reporter there. It was an introvert’s nightmare, but I’m glad I experienced it.
I distinctly remember two guys – a hot black man who told me he was in pharmaceutical sales (the legal kind. Hardy, har!) and a Persian man who was missing part of his finger and started yelling at me when he thought I was staring at it. I had only been fixing my nametag, which I wrongly put on my thigh to keep the thing from peeling off of my polyester shirt.
So bus drivers and speed dating were both out next time I felt brave enough to date. In fact, I was pretty much over attempting to meet men in real life. The next logical step, of course, was the world of online dating.