So last night I had my mind all set up to talk about why I’m on my dating hiatus. I had worked on my rough draft during my son’s football banquet and was in the process of looking for video to accompany the presentation. I wanted to flex my intellect by hitting you all with some ultra cool dating statistics in a writing style similar to Michael Eric Dyson. When I got home, I sent the article off for it’s normal critique and was actually in a good head space about it. But then I got a phone call from a friend of mine in New York who was having to move into another apartment because his roommate, a female, was kicking him out. And why? Because he was having a relationship with another woman. Let me explain . . . .
So my man (let’s call him Chance) lives, or should I say lived, in Manhattan. He’d been living with the same two roommates since he moved there over ten years ago. Well as fate would have it this year, one of his roommates got married and the other lost his job. Chance was unable to carry the rent by himself so he had to go apartment hunting again. While he was at a photo shoot, he was telling some of the crew about his situation and that he needed to find a roommate/apartment within the next week or he would be homeless. Fortune smiled upon my friend as a mildly interesting co-worker (let’s call her Misunderstanding) divulged that she had a room available in her apartment. Just so happens that her roommate got a gig on a Carnival cruise ship two weeks ago and she would not be returning. Her rent was already paid in advance for three months and Chance could move in right away. Too good to be true right?
Well . . . . . . two days later, Chance moves into the apartment. Brother man is stoked because not only is the place a definite upgrade from his previous spot but the location saves him twenty minutes commuting to work! Now before Chance moved in, he asked Misunderstanding if there was anything that he can help pay for since he was living there for free? Groceries? Electric bill? Water? Misunderstanding stated that everything was pretty much taken care of and that he should just make himself at home. (DANGER! DANGER!) So Chance being Chance, he wouldn’t allow himself to live there without contributing in some way. He felt compelled to make dinner for both of them every night and purchased enough groceries and alcohol for the both of the them to consume nightly. Things were even cool when Misunderstanding’s beau came around. Chance would speak to dude and then leave to give Misunderstanding the privacy that she needed. All was right in the world.
So things continued to go pretty well for about a month or so. Then one night while Chance is watching Sunday Night Football, Misunderstanding comes into the main room in a sheer, black, Victoria Secret bra and thong set on and lays on the floor in front of the television! (Shit has just got real!) A few moments passed as Chance took in the wonder that he was beholding. Before he could muster the courage to speak, Misunderstanding simply asked “Are you gonna keep watching football or are you going to fuck me?” Now according to Chance, Misunderstanding was decent in the face and had an alright tush, but her mammary glands were as large as the eye could see! He had always conceptualized his face being immersed in her bosom and it was as if the gods had granted his wish! So Chance being Chance, he made his way to Misunderstanding and began discovering all of her hidden treasures.
The bedroom shenanigans between Chance and Misunderstanding continued for several weeks. All the while, Chance continued to see his girl while Misunderstanding continued to see her beau. All of that changed when Chance came home one morning from being at his beloved’s place for the entire weekend. What followed next was nothing short of crazy. Chance told me that Misunderstanding was in full tirade Monday morning when he walked in, standing in the kitchen with only a stocking cap on her head. She yelled and cursed at Chance, stating that she had been calling and texting him thousands of times and he never returned her correspondence. According to Misunderstanding, Chance had no right to stay out all weekend while she was sitting at home alone. She expected him to be with her for the weekend. Like most conflicts, Chance just shrugged it off and got in the shower to get ready for work. He went and caught a cab to work but Misunderstanding remained at the house. When Chance got back to the apartment that evening, Misunderstanding was not there. However, there was a note on the refrigerator stating that Chance had until the weekend to get all of his belongings out of her apartment . . . . . .
Since I wired the money this morning, I felt it only right to tell the story (plus he gave me permission). Chance’s story is all too familiar with the sex “hook up” or as I like to think of it, the bedroom hustle. So many say that they are quite comfortable with “just sex” but nine times out of ten, situations occur like the one between Chance and Misunderstanding. Chance took the sex for what it was. Is that so wrong? After all, Misunderstanding had a man right? So why the hell did she go Glenn Close on my brother? Why did I have to wire money so Chance could find another place to stay?