#RelationshipGoals: It’s Curving Season

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Is it just me, or does it feel like curving season out here?

I don’t think I’m asking for too much when I say I want to live in the middle of a Jill Scott love (and lust) song — thick, swaying hips, with a man even thicker who tastes like chilled brown liquor. Or in the middle of a movie Oprah has something to do with, starring a southern accented Sandra Bullock and narrated by Halle Berry: He drank the entire glass of lemonade I fresh-squeezed that morning and used my grandmother’s recipe and drank it down like he’d never quenched his thirst before and he took the ice from the glass and sucked on it, and then rubbed it over his bare chest, leaving lucky droplets of water to worship his god-like physique slowly as they crashed to their death.

Am I asking for too much to want to live in a Dwayne Wayne and Whitley Gilbert romance of unlikely, but undoubtedly true love? There’s no shortage when it comes to the amount of men I meet; however, one complaint that’s been annoyingly sticking around for quite some time now is the amount of men who actively pursue me with dates, quality time and consistent interest and connection. Let me just say that number is few and far between.

After talking to many of my amazing and single friends, I am starting to feel as though a woman’s emotions and desire to connect with someone with the intention of building something together is frivolous for most men. Either they flee at the sight of something they don’t like, or they don’t put forth the effort to breed consistency. It’s one of the most frustrating parts of dating–trying to start something.

I’ll tell you right now, I am going through my own personal curving season.

I met a white guy at Whole Foods–I know, what could be more cliché? Because I live in New York and I’m a writer, I have two roommates. One of my roommates always buys one particular type of seasoning, which I have started using and am now obsessed with. I used all of it, so I needed to buy him a new bottle. When I asked him where to get it, he told me Whole Foods. I sighed, rolled my eyes and headed to Whole Foods–a complete inconvenience, but so was me selfishly using all of his seasoning.

I got to the overpriced grocery store, found the seasoning and headed towards the check out. As I curiously sauntered around the shelves and grocery carts filled with organic, gluten- and cage-free everything, I heard someone faintly say, “Excuse me.” I didn’t think it was for me, so I kept sauntering.

Then the voice was louder and closer to me, “Excuse me, miss?”

I turned around. A very cute white guy was standing near me. I smiled at him and kept looking at way too pricey grocery items.

“Your hair is beautiful,” the cutie said to me.

I turned to him again, “Oh, thank you!” I smiled, touched my hair and kept looking at groceries.

“You’re welcome. You’re beautiful too,” the stranger added. He held out his hand, attempting to keep my attention. “I’m Abraham.”

I shook his hand, “I’m Danielle.”

“It’s my pleasure to meet you Danielle. I’d love to take you out for a drink sometime.” Abraham held my hand for longer than he needed to. The shake was over, but he held my fingers in his.

“You too Abraham. And sure, why not?” I smiled.

“May I have your number?” he asked.

Read the rest on Madame Noire!

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