Racist dating guy
hen I was in my teens, I figured I’d be married at least three times. My second marriage would be the passionate one through which I would become a better version of myself, and my third would be the one that stuck.As you can see, I never really had a lot of respect for the institution. We met in the geekiest way possible: He saw a picture of me in a cosplay outfit, wanted to know more, found my blog, and then found my profile on a dating site and asked to meet at Dragon Con. I loved the idea of someone being willing to do a little legwork to find me, especially since exercising my curiosity and putting in some effort to satisfy it is how I engage with the world. Also, he asked me out — no hedging, no game playing.By the time I was 30, after years of never sleeping with anyone for more than two months, much less actually dating them, I’d revised my prediction from three to zero. He stated up front that he wanted to get to know me better and asked me on a date.I’m not religious; I didn’t want kids; and I sure as hell didn’t want someone in my home that felt like they had any control over my decisions. In a society where people are “hanging out” and “chilling” and “hooking up” — meaning anything from a light kissing session to a night of full-blown sex — being direct was important..I told him that his assumption — that we were safe from shootings because we were in an all-white restaurant, that a predominantly Black restaurant would be likely to have a shooting — was shitty, ignorant, and racist. But, of course, it’s always okay for white people to be armed.
Many of his friends lived in “white flight” zones, suburban areas where white people moved to avoid the “downfall” of urban areas.
I could have been arrested or killed for carrying something like that, regardless of what I planned to do with it — unlike them.
They wouldn’t face any consequences for bringing weapons into a restaurant; after all, they were white and the restaurant was mostly white.
I’d met my share of white men looking for a “Nubian goddess” (their words, not mine).
Or the ones who believed that Black women would offer some kind of freaky, wild sexual experience.I mean, not every white guy has a “David Duke cock” right? I had to constantly be on guard, preparing myself for their racist comments. I knew there would be a point where I’d have to talk about why I could say n***** and they couldn’t.I knew there’d be a conversation about Black on Black crime. Kevin entered my life at a particularly vulnerable point. He’d been sick for over a decade with cancer and I spent that entire time blocking out everyone.I’d met white men who wanted to demean and defile me, white men who wanted to dominate or be dominated by me, and white men who just wanted to check a Black woman off their sexual bucket list.