So, here we are, post #3. With full disclosure, I’d like to warn all my readers that from here on out do not be alarmed by what you read. I started this blog to get my honest feelings off of my chest and if there were others out there, dealing with my same and/or similar issues, to let them know that they are not alone. Going forward I will not beat around the bush with my language. Many of my readers are close friends, and I would like for any new readers to become extended friends. With that being said; allow me to reintroduce myself; my name is Carolyn and my dating life has been a mess. Over the years I have collected pages of material and I figured I should share them on a greater platform. I hope you enjoy, continue to read, follow, and share with all of your friends.
BM_TDR messaged me one day. We had been speaking via text after we matched, on and off, for about one month. One random summer afternoon, (I’m going to say July or August) he got off work early he asked if I wanted to meet up for a drink. Against my better judgment (as I had a workout class scheduled at 7:30pm that evening) I agreed. He met me at the bar by my former job Printer’s Alley on 40th Street in Manhattan. We got a table, each had a drink, and he had a burger (he offered me food, but I wasn’t hungry) we shared a few laughs, talked about our jobs, and hobbies, he paid the bill and that was the end of the date. I missed my class, but overall the date went well. We left the restaurant and started to walk to the train. We walked to the Bryant park train station where he took his train (didn’t offer to walk me to mine – mental note: point deduction) and parted ways. When he got home he texted that he had a good time. This was good, as I enjoyed my time with him as well. He later texted that next time I should come by his place and hang out.
Now, in full disclosure I was not looking for a boyfriend but I did like this BM_TDR: he had a good job, liked to travel, had no kids, didn’t smoke, in essence, he very good on paper so I didn’t want to move to fast. I declined the offer saying that a second date at his house would be too soon. Naturally, he tried to dissuade my argument but I didn’t budge. Eventually the conversation began to dwindle and we stopped talking. I continued to scour the Internet in the hopes to find another decent man, possibly one with more patience… long story short – I didn’t find him.
A few weeks after I came back from my vacation in Jamaica, I received a message from BM_TDR. It was of course a dick-pic. Keep in mind, we had not spoken in a week or two and we only went on that one date. What led to this escalation of events? However, it was a beautiful image, and I hadn’t had good sex in a while, so I thought to myself – we’re both consenting adults, we did have good chemistry, he’s safe, do what you want– so I went with it.
We agreed to meet a Friday evening, after work and my regularly scheduled zumba class with my mom I rushed home to shower and head out to his house in South Side Jamaica, Queens. I hopped on the M15 bus, took the Q train, transferred and took an uber to his house.
The chemistry was on point; we kissed, cuddled, and joked it was an eventful evening and the sex was very-very good, my insatiableness was finally matched. In the morning we talked for a bit more. I further found out he was heavy into video games, liked riding bikes, and like every black kid in the hood-dabbled in rapping. I hopped in the shower dressed and headed back home. Overall the night went well, I didn’t have to adjust my life too much and left satisfied- great right… Wrong!
I didn’t want to pay for an uber back to the train and I figured, I have no plans so just take the bus to the train. That ride, which was 5 minutes in an uber at night, was 45 minutes by bus in the day. I talked to my friend on the bus ride. She was in the city with one of our guy friends and we made plans for brunch. The ride on the train was even worse. I fell asleep forgetting that on weekends, the trains run local- the horror! The ride that was 45 minutes in the evening was 2 hours on the weekend. I wanted to kiss the ground when I finally reached the city.
The guy and I continued to make plans but none ever succeeded. I was not willing to miss my zumba class to meet him earlier and by the time I would get to his house, he’d be tired as he worked early in the morning, and I refused to travel for tired dick. He would often send me “good morning beautiful” texts and ask when we’ll see and/or hang with each other again. I was essentially in limbo to make a decision.
A few months went by and by this time it was October. I was at the Barclays with my family seeing The Nightmare Before Christmas live. I get the “hey beautiful” text from him asking again when we would hang. At this point I kind of needed to know even though I already knew, but needed to hear/read the words what was his intention. Did he only want sex or was there an opportunity for something more. There were a few minutes that passed before he responded but when he did; it concluded what I had already knew “Just Sex”. Even though I was already certain that would be his answer, a very small part of me hoped that he might say with time maybe more. But with his answer, my responding decision was made much easier.
I live in Spanish Harlem in Manhattan and he lives in South Side Jamaica, Queens. Neither he nor I drive and I still (even though I am drastically trying to change it) live with my parents, which leaves his place or hotels. It took me just one ride back from his place to realize that the commute was not worth it. To and from by mass transit is a 3-4 hours commute. That is 3-4 hours of my life that I will never get back. Even via ubers both ways will still be 1-2 hours of my life that I will never get back.
If there were hope of a companionship or a relationship coming out of it, then maybe my decision would have been different. But when he made it clear he only wanted me for sex, it was clear to me he lived too far.
In previous instances I would tiptoe around the answer by saying, I’m focusing one me, or I need time alone, or even lie and say I found someone else, but this situation gave me the courage to speak the truth and sometimes the truth hurts. “I just don’t want to travel that far for sex. “You’re good but not that good and I wish you all the best” was the last message I sent to him and then I blocked him.
What I learned from this situation was; do not talk to someone who lives in South Side Jamaica, Queens- unless they have a car because that is simply TOO FAR FOR RICHARD (DICK)
KEY:BM_Tinder: B-Race, M-First letter of name, TDR- Tinder
Dick is a nickname for Richard (if you didn’t already know)