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 restroom 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.  He was so tall (not something I typically care about) and personable, and confident, without being cocky.  To be fair, I had participated in some heavy shot taking and over indulged in quite a few flutes of champagne prior to this encounter, but that man was fine.  Anyway, after we exchanged numbers, I never made it to the bathroom because my friends were famished and ready to go.

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.  Pro tip: if you are ever in the city of New York, and need to use the restroom, go to a hotel.  No one is ever going to stop you as there are lots of people in hotels, and there’s never anyone in the lobby restroom because most people have a room.  Back to the story.  As I was wrapping my hair after a long day of partying, 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 the next two weeks.  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 by 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.

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.

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 before he followed up with, “Nah I’m joking you’re literally like five minutes away see you soon.”  I took the flexi rods out of my weave, and groomed my brows quicker than anyone ever has.

I’m a bit of a creep so I actually have chill outfits that I find 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 some white sweat pants, 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, and there he was.  I shit you not, the man somehow got better looking from the time we first met.  He was wearing my version of male lingerie: Nike Tach gear and dope sneakers…plus a fresh haircut.  Let’s also take a moment to reflect and thirst over his body.  He was built like a running back.  You know, slim but just muscular enough in the right places (arms, chest, and back).  Quick, someone come change this chair cushion.  I swooned in my head, but kept my cool.

We stood outside of my house and talked for like two hours.  It reminded me of high school or college, when you’d sit in someone’s car talking about any and everything, and time doesn’t even exist.  You’re just thriving off of each other’s vibes.  A warm breeze came through every now and again to give my weave that Beyoncé effect.  We talked about his mom’s passing, his absentee father and how that made him want to be a better father to his son, where he went to college, and why he dropped out, his many, many tattoos (I love tattoos), and everything that came to mind.  He didn’t compliment me too much, because I said how I hate that.  He was genuinely curious about me and my life, where I grew up, and what brought me here.  His touches were light and flirtatious, a little inviting even, but never aggressive.  It was a perfect Summer night.  The kind you long for when you don’t even know you’re longing.

“When can I see you again?” he asked while holding my hands.  I encouraged him to plan something fun, since he seems to know where the fun is.

“You know we go together now, right?” he asked before giving me a hug and leaving.  I giggled like a child, and blushed profusely, 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,” I replied.

“Thanks for letting me.”

And I never heard from him again.