So I kind of left you hanging a bit with regard to that fine ass dude I met.  You may be wondering what became of that whole thing.  Well I’ll tell you.

My whole point in leaving the VIP section that night was to go to the bathroom when I was approached by the finest man I’ve ever seen in real life.  We’ll call hime Baby Drake.  I was literally taken aback by his presence.  That is in part due to the fact that I had participated in some heavy shot taking and over indulged in quite a few flutes of champagne prior to this encounter.  Anyway though, after we exchanged numbers, I never made it to the bathroom because my friends were famished and ready to go.

Let me say this, my friend and her fiancé are doing much better at adult life than I am; hence the reasoning behind me being in a lit ass VIP section and riding off in BMW.  None of this was my doing.

Anyway back to the story.  After making a mad dash on foot through traffic in Times Square to use the bathroom at a hotel, I had some tasty ass Thai food from one of my favorite places here called Qi, and then I made the homage back to Brooklyn.  As I was wrapping my hair I got a text from Baby Drake saying he hoped that I made it home safely and to give him a call the next day.

We chatted via text for a week or two.  Through these chats he gained my sincere interest in a few ways.  I will list them here:

  1. He asked for my Instagram name instead of asking me to send him a pic.
  2. His Instagram pics were captioned with some of my favorite Drake lyrics.  The kind that only a real fan would know, and if you can’t tell let me tell you now I freaking love Drake.
  3. He asked if he could come to church with me.
  4. He wasn’t able to make our church date but let me know in advance with sincere apologies.
  5. I got a call around 9:00 PM a few days later (yes an actual phone call) asking if he could come over.  “I don’t need to come in or anything, I just want to see you because we haven’t had a chance to hang out since we met,” he said.

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I do not allow anyone into my house.  Not because I’m a prude but because my place is not cute and visitor friendly.  I would liken it to Holly Golightly’s apartment in Breakfast at Tiffany’s but that would be too generous of a comparison.  There’s random furniture and nowhere to really store my clothes so there wasn’t a chance in hell that Baby Drake would see the inside of my house on this day or any day in the foreseeable future.

Holly Golightly's Place vs. My Place

Holly Golightly’s Place vs. My Place

He asked for my address and I sent it via text.  He called and said “wow you’re like an hour and a half away.”  My heart instantly sank and then he said “nah I’m joking you’re literally like five minutes away see you soon.”  I took out my flexi rods and groomed my brows quicker than anyone ever has.

I’m a bit of a creep so I actually have chill outfits that are flattering.  Not lingerie.  Let me explain.  I think that I look really good in all white but I don’t like to look like I’m trying too hard when chilling.  So I threw on these white sweat pants from high school and my new favorite white t-shirt from Banana Republic.  (I have an obscene amount of white shirts).  So I emerged from my driveway looking leisurely chic as far as I’m concerned.  I shit you not, the man somehow got better looking from the time we first met.  Tall with a fresh haircut wearing a black v neck and those cool sweats that guys wear these days and really dope red sneakers.  He has the build of a running back.  Slim but really cut arms and pecks were on deck.  I swooned in my head, but kept my cool.

We stood outside of my house and talked for like two hours.  It was one of those nights with perfect weather.  A warm breeze came through every now and again to give my weave that Beyonce effect.  It was great.  He even noticed that I had gotten my nails done that day.  After laughing and joking about life and dating, he made his exit.  “When can I see you again?” he asked.  I blushed so hard (can black girls blush?)  “You know we go together now, right?” he asked before giving me a hug and leaving.  I giggled like a child and floated back to my thrift shop of a basement apartment.

About half an hour later he text me kissing emojis.  I typically hate that kind of thing but he’s so fine that I let it slide.

“Thank for stopping by.”

“Thanks for letting me.”

And I never heard from him again.

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