Prototype

This Saturday morning, I’d awaken to a man telling me over Blackberry Instant Messenger that I am a “Prototype for why niggas act like niggas sometimes.”

Well, to say the least it certainly helped me to pop out of my bed feeling perplexed. How do you respond to a statement like that; a statement so rash, so abrasive, and so untactful? All that I could think of was how I did not want to start my morning filled with the drama of responding to a man that sounded like he had his morning coffee with a side of bitter & broken ego. Then again, I never heard the words come out of his mouth; therefore, I was not sure if I should be offended or a bit intrigued by this shady IM message. Well, I went with offended and confused. It fits me better (wink, wink). But I definitely wanted to know where this comment stemmed from since the original IM exchange was about his friend’s inquires about me; not his own issues with what type of woman I am in his eyes. Needless to say, it came out of no where based on the initial topic of conversation.

Before I continue along with the story, let me be fair and give you some background information. I don’t want to paint this man out to be a jerk aka asshole, just because he felt the need to say that I am a “Prototype” for anything. He was just merely expressing his feelings. I’ve already come to the conclusion (before this post was written), that he just isn’t the man for me in an intimate capacity, and that’s totally fine. Don’t worry, I’m not going to cry or slit my wrist due to a situation that ends unhappy or as a cliff hanger. I learn more about myself from all of it.

I’ll keep the backgrounder short and sweet. This man and I had only established a business rapport with one another until we had an early morning breakfast almost two months ago. It was cool. We ate, we talked, we bonded which led to an exchange of numbers, emails, and IM names. At breakfast, he confessed that he was attracted to me and I grew fond of him after several interactions of witty banter and interesting discussions via phone and IM messages. He was sweet, laid-back, smart and real. His aura gave off the most honest energy but it was positive. In a nut shell, he asked me out and we confirmed a day. Unfortunately, I cancelled due to an impromptu business trip to LA to meet with Bruce Wayne (see Picture Perfect; My LA Trip post from January 27th). After my return to NYC, we still continued to talk daily but I didn’t commit to go out with him again. Yes, it was unconscious but I take full responsibility for not being aggressive with rescheduling another outing. Hey, I was still happy with just talking to him and learning about one another. The daily talks began to slow down and when I would check in on him, something seemed off. In the end, he expressed to me that he will loose interest in a woman if “the situation just stands still”. I told him that I completely understand and could respect his honesty and his decision. In my mind, the witty chatter was over and we would go back to the business rapport that was there in the beginning. There was certainly no love lost.

So, as you can see our personal relationship ended on a considerate note. I hope now you can understand where my confusion came from: 1.) I did not expect for him to contact me again (on a personal level) 2.) Why would he say such a hasty statement about me?

Well, we talked over the phone later on so that he could further explain himself to clear things up. It was basically the same thing that he’s told me before. He lost interest, I was giving him the run-around, he’s not the type of man who does a mouse and cat chase with women, and he basically couldn’t understand the point of us since I didn’t give him more time. However, he did sincerely apologize for saying or typing that I was the “Prototype for why niggas act like niggas sometimes.” Hey, people say what they mean, so I feel that's how he really thinks of me, as the “Prototype.” The chick that plays it cool, doesn’t act as expected and doesn’t baby the male ego as she should; the woman who’s untraditional and won’t conform easily. As a result, she is the excuse of why men act out. Please, give me a break!

I stressed to him that the comment was offensive, untactful and inappropriate. But of course, there’s no love lost. I was never angry with his decision. Hell, he chose his choice and he should stand by it; not call me out because I didn’t stroke his ego enough while massaging his dick. Yes, the language is dirty this time around but you get my point, right?

I also told him that I’m in a stage of my life where I am the woman who does NOT want a “fuck buddy” or a “boyfriend”. I’m still figuring it all out. So, should I be punished for my indecisiveness and called a “Prototype for why niggas act like niggas sometimes?” Yes, we’re adults here and I know that there really is no happy medium between a “fuck buddy” and “boyfriend”. But I will not be rushed into any situation or called names. Our conversation ended awkwardly as he had to run to meet his friends for lunch and at the same time, I was still speechless from the drama that had occurred. It was still sinking in. We said our good byes and hung up the phone with no real conclusion. But I want to you all to know that I’m one of a kind and not a “Prototype” for niggas who don’t act accordingly or anything else. Men decide to act like niggas sometimes, because THEY CHOSE to act that way. The responsibility is on them, not due to any other woman, or me, or me as a “Prototype” and vice versa. You are responsible for your own actions.

So, I guess I will end this one with several questions to him (the one that called me a “Prototype”) and everyone else who has read this post; “What happened to just getting to know each other (without all of the sex and intimate pressure)?” “What happened to establishing a friendship and/or a relationship with substance?” “What are we rushing for?”

Please leave your thoughts in the comment section. I’d love to hear ‘em. Thanks for your support!

Miss Joi aka “The Ultimate and One-of-a-kind Prototype”

The Unattainable

As I sit back and reflect on that night at the bar of feeling like Carrie Bradshaw observing “Mr. Big” mingling with a couple of females, I just smirk in relief. “Well, at least I didn’t fuck him.”

There he was; gorgeous, laughing, smiling, and having the time of his life. The chemistry was totally there. I’d only been observing Mr. CB, my girlfriend and her friend at the bar for 5 minutes or less. But it seemed that Mr. CB grew smitten my girlfriend’s friend in a matter of seconds. By the end of my shift, I was on the phone venting to a friend about the entire situation. Why did Mr. CB have to come on my turf to pick up new prospects?

I must define the history between me and Mr. CB before I continue the story.

He and I went out on a couple of dates. Honestly, they were all fabulous. We get along. He fit the typical profile of what I enjoy about men. He’s charming, sensible, honest, successful, older (in his 40’s), handsome, educated, and extremely unattainable. Did I mention, extremely unattainable? Mr. CB is divorced and after he revealed this to me, I sensed that he was definitely enjoying his newly found single life. Believe me; I witnessed him enjoying the “single life” every time he brought a different woman into the bar where I work. But that never bothered me and I never judged him. I was intrigued. Unfortunately, Mr. CB’s exit was surprisingly abrupt. I thought I’d played all of my cards right with this one. He performed the typical stop calling and texting with no explanation move. So, I mentioned his rude, cowardly disappearing act. He was truthful and told me that his feelings were with another woman whom he had a relationship with some years ago. They were trying to decide if they should give it another try. He was compassionate with his explanation. “Joi, you are a gem and I don’t want to ruin that.” I rolled my eyes. I informed Mr. CB that he could have just told me that information instead of disappearing without as much of a good-bye to saver ties, respectfully. I told him that we can be just friends. “Well, Actually I don’t have many platonic female friends,” Mr. CB confessed. I looked at him with a raised eyebrow and thought to myself, “I really should be deleting your number after that statement.”

One day, my thoughts were consumed with him. As a result, I decided to check on him and send a friendly text to his cell phone. He never responded. I sent another text message a few weeks later. No response. So when he managed to walk into the bar where I work it felt as if I’d seen a ghost. It was even scarier because I’d just sent him the second text message the night before.

I’ll admit it. I’m still very fond of Mr. CB. However, I’ve managed to keep my distance since it was he who initiated the distance between us. Now that Mr. CB and I do not talk as much compared to when we first met, I find myself thinking about him. I want him even more. Therefore, when I witnessed him conversing with my girlfriend’s friend from the other side of the bar, I was not happy and had decided that he was hitting a little too close to home. His eyes managed to meet mine. I gave him the look of death. Given the chance, my stare probably would have burned a hole through his navy blue sweater. The decent woman in me wanted to believe that he was just talking and entertaining miscellaneous women while he waited for his friends. The territorial woman in me was convinced that he was definitely flirting with my girlfriend’s friend and that they had exchanged phone numbers, business cards, or something to keep in contact with each other. I was disappointed, annoyed, upset.

Upset with myself that I had been fascinated by yet another unattainable man. Upset that he was another unattainable man who would not return my text messages, probably did not want anything exclusive with me, and managed to fall off the face of the earth with no regard of my feelings. Why do I always like the guys who seem so far from my reach? They’re just so aloof and emotionally detached. They were all similar in that way and I certainly attached myself to them-physically and/or emotionally; Mr. Vegas, Mr. Promoter, Mr. Roc-A-Wear, Mr. C, and now, Mr. CB. It’s almost as if I’m dating the same man over and over and over again but with a different name. Actually, the only thing that these men had in common; other then the fact that they could never be hooked into a healthy relationship; was yours truly, me. I really can not blame these men as I choose to deal with them, so I blame myself.


I’ve never enjoyed anything that came to me easily, especially men. But what’s the point of the chase if you’ll never be able to win the prize in the end?