New York, Blind Dates & BBC Part II

I think I’m in love…with bloody New York!

Being out Thursday night until 3:00 a.m. meant a late start to Friday. Even after setting my alarm for 8:30a.m. I didn’t wake up until 12:30. The day’s first priority was to write.

Earlier that day the creator of the Angry Black Woman blog sent me an email to meet for drinks at 6:00 at Sweet Revenge on Carmine Street. Of course I was running late and rushing.

By the time I got to the city I was extremely hungry from not eating all day. Sweet Revenge only served drinks and cupcakes so we made a change in location so I could quiet my grumbling stomach. ABW suggested a restaurant that served all “fake meat.” I don’t know if that meant it was all tofu or what. I’m not really into the vegetarian, vegan, pescetarian or organic movement yet. I love meat, especially swine. But she insisted you couldn’t tell the difference so I said why not.

After ordering appetizers ABM’s friend who is a published author joined us. They both offered some really great advice on how to actively look for jobs in NYC and what to expect when moving here.

My dragonfly dumplings were fantastic so I knew my “Southern Creole Chicken” would be too. I couldn’t have been more wrong. The texture of the chicken just wasn’t right. Possibly, one of the worst meals I’ve ever had.

By 8:00pm I had to leave so I could meet up with Nina and blind date #2. By the end of dinner both women offered me a temporary spare room for a reasonable rent because they both knew the importance of being in the city to job hunt. “It is nearly impossible to find a job in NYC if you don’t live here. Move here first then find a job,” they said.

In true southern girl fashion I hugged and thanked them after they gave me directions to Grand Central Station, which is where I was meeting up with Nina.

Nina and I ran into each other at 42nd St/Times Square station as we were waiting on the S train to GCS. We hugged, chitchatted, laughed and then I asked about the white boy.

“Oh, he’s not coming. He decided not to do it,” she said.

“Really, why not?”

“He went on and on about wanting to be anonymous. He was worried about being recorded because he’s an attorney,” she said.

Oh, ok,” I said probably giving her the #Prince side-eye.

Being the militant woman I am I immediately thought it had something to do with race, but kept my thoughts to myself. Then again, why would he agree to it in the first place knowing I was a black woman if it was about race? Either way, I thought about it for two minutes and then was on to the next one. Seriously, we all know I was not going to consider dating a white man.

Nina still wanted to venture to a bar she was told is frequented by professional white men. It was there she would ask and record my thoughts on interracial dating. In route to the bar, which ended up being located in a hotel, we took pictures of the Empire State building. Strangely she also wanted to take pictures of the tattoos on my wrist (not to be used for the documentary I pray). I guess tattoos amuse her being from the UK because she acted the same way over Andre’s tatts.

Once we arrived at the bar it was completely empty. The bartender explained New Yorkers travel for the 4th of July holiday causing business to be slower than usual. Nina ordered her beer and my Grey Goose with pineapple and cranberry juice and began to ask me questions about interracial dating.

I explained to her why I didn’t really believe in interracial dating. Raising biracial children also came up, in which I told her I was dead set against. By biracial I’m specifically referring to mixed with black and white. Although I suspected it I had no idea Nina’s husband was black. Even though Nina’s parents are from India and she is of Indian descent, born and raised in London, I hoped my big mouth didn’t offend her since she is raising a biracial son.

While at the bar I received a text from LI.

LI and I met via social networking about a month prior to my trip. Weird, I know.  Our phone conversations are never less than two hours and we usually talk 4-5 times a week. Naturally he was excited about my trip being that he is a native New Yorker and this would be our first time meeting face to face.

Nina wanted to go to Santo’s for the next move of the night. I had already been to Santo’s and knew exactly what kind of crowd it would be. LI was going to Le Poisson Rouge. I let Nina make the decision between the two.

Two drinks and $26 dollars later we paid the tab and bounced. Prior to arriving to Le Poisson Rouge I was quite unsure if I really wanted to go there. LI kind of annoyed me with his indirect half ass invitation. He told me about the spot, texted me the info, but never came right out and said, “you should come.” Plus, I didn’t want to mess up his game. I’m far from a cock blocker. Needless to say, I didn’t tell him we were going.

Nina and I hopped in a cab and headed to the spot. It was hella early so the club was far from poppin’. This meant I needed a drink and fast. We drank, danced for a bit and then sat down as we waited for the club to get packed.

LI texted me and I didn’t respond. Yeah, I’m petty like that. Then he called me and I still didn’t answer, but mainly because I wouldn’t have been able to hear him.

“Are you in Harlem? We’re driving,” he texted.

I partly didn’t respond to this because he was asking if I needed a ride and I was already there.

After he called I texted him and said, “I’m in the club. I can’t hear you if I answer.”

Several texts later finally told him where I was. He said cool and that he would see me soon. On my way from the restroom LI saw me and said, “Bene?” We hugged with the biggest smiles plastered onto our faces.

We danced and talked. And danced some more. Nina came over, said she was tired and was going to leave. I was having so much fun I decided to stay.

By 4:00 we left the party as the lights were coming on I’m sure. I asked LI and his friend to direct me to the subway station so I could head back to Harlem. Of course like any perfect gentleman would have done he insisted on taking me to where I was staying.

On the ride home we laughed, listened to music and talked. He told me I danced to all the reggae songs because he remembered I told him I didn’t like reggae music. I was starving and asked him to stop at the nearest McDonald’s.

While standing outside in front of the walk-thru window we held hands and talked as we waited for eternity to get two Quarter Pounder meals.

Finally, around 5:30 a.m. we arrived in front of my homegirl’s brownstone apartment. I said goodnight and thanked him profusely for bringing me home.

All in all day two in New York was productive and was extremely fun. I was starting to really like this LI dude and couldn’t wait for tomorrow for our Fela! on Broadway date.

White dude missed out. And blind date #3 was uh yeah…you’ll want to come back for that one.