When I was married, my single friends would tell me all their horror stories about meeting crazy people and wasting perfectly good Friday and Saturday nights on folks who were not worth the time. I would shake my head and say, “I’m so glad I don’t have to go through that!” Unfortunately, a short time later, I found myself single and dealing with the trials of finding that someone special. Just like many of my friends, I too had bad experiences.
One Friday night, I went out with a couple of co-workers to celebrate a birthday. Nothing special, just some drinks at your neighborhood Friday’s. (Why do black folks love Friday’s so much? I think it has to do with the Jack Daniels sauce that they put on everything). Anyway, back to Friday night. While I’m chillin’ at the bar with my folks, I see a chick on the other side of the bar giving me a serious mean mug. I mean, this sister is looking at me as if I’d pushed her in the water at one of those pool parties that black folks have where nobody actually swims. It took me a few minutes before I realized who she was, and that’s when I started to panic. Let me explain.
A few months ago, I got a random message on my MySpace page from said female. She was commenting on the song I had playing on my page, and wanted to compliment me on my good taste in music. We had a brief conversation that day, and chatted a couple of times afterwards. About a week later, she sent me a message saying that her birthday was coming up, and she wondered if I would like to meet her for a drink. I’m always down for some libations, so I suggested we meet on Thursday after work. She agreed. Well, I had a hectic week at work, and when the day we are supposed to meet came around, I completely forgot about it and went directly home. I got a nasty message that night expressing how janky I am, and that she isn’t usually treated so shabbily. Fast forward to Friday night!