This weekend, I attended an HBCU greek alumni party. I know….mistake #1!
Anywho, I was quickly reminded of why dating in Los Angeles is so difficult. Here’s what happened :
Girls Dressed Like Strippers
It was hot as hell’s oven in this factory-like room turned “lounge”. However, the deathly heat did not explain why girls were wearing barely-there shorts and nowhere-to-be-found shirts. How can anyone (with dignity) compete with that?! You can’t! You either sit back and watch the foolery ensue or you join in! *looks up shamelessly and tosses dignity out the window* I broke out my Jamaican-themed daisy dukes and joined in!
But who gon check me boo?
We were packed like baby sardines in this venue. I literally couldn’t move. There was one individual, however, who capitalized on this environment.
*Enter perverted busboy*
This height-challanged midget man would feel me UP and DOWN every time he passed by! The first time I thought I was imagining things. But after the third time, I was ready to drop kick him and Miley Cyrus twerk on his face! He was good though. Every time I turned around, he was half way gone. That’s a professional perv for ya!!
The daisy dukes brought a few boys to the yard (not the one that I came with unfortunately -_-. More on that later). This one guy came up to me and started a conversation. All I can remember is that he laughed at EVERYTHING that I said. Don’t get me wrong. I know I’m funny. But geez, I could have called his mom a b*tch in any number of euphemistic ways, and he would have laughed his insides out. Next!
My Boo’s Disappearing Act
The guy that I’m currently dating was actually present at the party. Can you guess how many times I saw him? Two!! Two frigging times in three whole hours. Once at the beginning and once at the end -_-. Throughout the night he would text me saying “I’m looking for you.” or “I can’t find you.” Unbeknownst to him, I was standing on a platform and could see him raising the roof and dancing around like a lunatic WHILST he claimed to be frantically searching for me. Foolery’s finest work.
One Final Act
I left the ratchet turnup and headed to my car with a friend. While walking, this random man decided to join us on the journey. He started talking to me and I noticed that he had an accent. Our conversation proceeded :
Me : “You have an accent. Where is it from?”
Him : “I went on a vacation to the Dominican Republic.”
Me : “You picked up an accent from a vacation?”
Him : “Yea. I liked it”
Me : “Please dismiss yourself.”
I was too through with that night!
But I learned a valuable lesson : If you’re thinking about dating in LA, don’t.
Photos courtesy of :
Porbital – FreeDigitalPhotos
Pong – FreeDigitalPhotos