I’ve been around the block a few times in my 25 years of dating that I know to leave well enough alone based on a few quick evaluations. So remember the story the other day: the man who is making mad money, drives gas for a living, and has only read one book? Well, there is more to that story. He wanted to date me, settle down, move in, have me inherit his kids and he knew all this within a week of meeting me when we hadn’t even gone on a date.
We met at a gas station. I looked up from filling my tank and he was staring at me. I smiled back. He waved me over. I usually toss my locs and laugh and wave them over but he was driving in the cab of the gas tank so I humored him and went over. I must have been feeling a bit reckless because I gave him my correct number. He texted the moment I gave him my number and wanted to come see me. What has happened to talking before the date? Sometimes I feel some men think once women have gotten past their “best-by date” they will just settle for anything that shows them attention. Well, I didn’t go to this much damn school to jump in bed with just anyone. That’s why they make these exquisite delights called toys. When I gave him phone audience, he just wanted to talk forever and asked when he could come see me yet again.
I am an elitist. I know this about myself. I know not everyone wants to, gets the chance to, or succeeds in the higher education system. I know the systems are not set up for some of us to survive it. Yet I have to remain firm and say I have standards and I’ve really only met a handful of men with no formal education but a few credit hours in college, who are able to be equals in a relationship with me.
I agreed to a first date even though he suggested a chain. After not getting an answer to a text he sent about the location, he rung my phone 4 times in succession and then proceeded to send a barrage of texts saying he hoped I wasn’t going to stand him up. When I arrived he changed his mind and asked me to go deliver gas with him and then we’d go to breakfast after. For some reason, I hopped in the cab of the truck and went along for the ride. While on the ride he asked me why I didn’t greet him with a hug. I said I’d only really just met him and we hadn’t even gone on a date yet. He began to whine and said I had rejected him. I had to try to pacify him saying I’d hug him after we’d shared a meal together.
So we got back to the restaurant and sat down. He kept raving about the food. That says a lot if a local Perkins chain is your standard. I said nothing. I tried to engage him to talk about his dreams, dislikes, likes, ambitions. No dice. He liked his job because it made him good money. He went home after work each day, took a shower, cooked dinner and watched tv, and did it all over again the next day. About 10 minutes into our time there he began to whine again. I needed to come sit on his side of the booth so he could hold me. When I said no he sulked in the corner until I moved. Soon as I sat he informed me that he gave the evil eye to the Black man across the row from us because he had caught him staring at my butt. During the meal he shushed me a few times because I was talking about white people and he didn’t want them to hear us. He also told me that all the African women he had known had been difficult. I ventured that perhaps they had just had standards that he couldn’t meet. Then he got started on some nasty Nigerian food he’d tried and how he hoped mine wasn’t like that. Even though I told him I was busy that evening with catering and the next with a friend, he continued to text periodically to ask if my friend was gone.
At the end of the day, I finally came clean and said he was not what I was looking for and no matter how attracted he was to me, I’d only cause him wahala because I would never be the woman of his dreams. He offered that we could be friends with benefits until the right guy came along for me. He said he could just come over after work each day. I about fell out. I’d have a resident whom I couldn’t get rid of. At one point he said I guess I’ll have to take you out again before you’ll let me come see you. That sealed it for me.
In any case, everything came to a head on Thursday a week and a day after I’d given him my number when he said I’d wasted his time. What part of this isn’t going to work implied me wasting his time? He said he had had success in changing other women’s minds and he thought he’d change mine eventually if he kept asking. In any case, I explained that I had already told him it wasn’t going to work and he didn’t need to be petulant and passive aggressive about it. But maybe those were two big words for him. He just wrote bye!
Why do I tell you this? I try not to judge a book by it’s cover, especially now that I’m in the service industry. Some people look down on me for serving my own food, because I wear an apron and dish food out doesn’t mean I’m any less than them, but industry determines social status to an extent. I was trying to be egalitarian in giving him a chance despite the vast differences between us. He’s not the first and he won’t be the last I’m sure, but it will certainly make it hard for me to give another trucker a chance.