“u into black men?”
In my early 30s I went to every wedding, engagement party, birthday party, backyard barbecue, housewarming party and work function whether I wanted to or not. Because I knew I had to “put myself out there.” I knew that I would never meet anyone in my living room. My husband-to-be was never going to knock on my door and ask if he could be the one to watch documentaries with me for the rest of our happily married lives. He was not going to show up bearing gifts of love and fidelity, companionship or laughter. I had to “get out there” and be available if I wanted to find my fellow homebody who also wanted to travel the world together. And what better place to meet a potential match than at functions for mutual friends, right? But after the regimen of attempting the perfect outfit, hair and makeup and then small talk all night to no avail every single time, my optimism started dying in half-lives.
Apoptosis. It was exhausting. Event after event turned into months and months turned into years. When I could no longer attend these events with a lighthearted social levity I finally let myself stay home for some of the non-obligatory functions. I allowed my soul to rest for a little bit.
As time wore on and I wasn’t meeting anyone through friends or family or any serendipitous reach for the same bunch of cilantro at the farmer’s market I was definitely getting discouraged.
Discouraged was usually when I would check my online dating profile. What little I know about the algorithmic sorcery that goes into online dating included the fact that new members were actively promoted when they first join. Their profiles are featured on the home page and they’re suggested to current members. New members are chum in the water and the sharks start circling fast.
But by the time you’ve been online for a few months the number of messages gradually declines to one or two per day. Sometimes as few as one per week. And they only come from one extreme or another — the “sup” boys or the men who actually thoroughly read the profiles of prospective matches. These men share a little bit about themselves. They use complete sentences. And some of them even form paragraphs. These men are always polite, jovial and ask questions designed to solicit a response — to start an actual conversation, oftentimes a lighthearted joke about something self-deprecating you put in your profile like music you’re embarrassed to admit you like.
At the other end of the spectrum are the men who use the least number of words with the fewest syllables to ask the shallowest questions possible.
u into black men?
Sigh. This particular bard could have suffered from discrimination and was maybe trying to preempt any potential racism. He also looked like he could be tall. So, yes, I wrote the six syllables back. Despite the fact that he used “u” and his profile was suspiciously anemic.
“Well. Like I said in my profile, I’m into tall men. Smart, kind and funny are all musts. But your profile leaves a lot to the imagination. Feel free to tell me more about yourself :)”
I was not optimistic but I used a smiley face to convey a happiness I didn’t actually feel.
well just hard to find hot white girls that like black men down here…most are fat or trashy white girls that like us…so i am looking around..you ever been with a black man?
My light and positive message did not yield any depth of humanity in his response, more like how hunters and fishermen talk to each other. Anything biting? You see anything white out there that isn’t fat? Or trashy?
I was obviously concerned that he wrote me just because I’m white. I shouldn’t have written him back but I had become a swirling time-suck of curious and lonely and hopeful and frustrated. I didn’t even know if he thought I was pretty or if I was just not fat and not trashy enough to make him send me six syllables.
He also didn’t sound like he had any interests besides the one, let alone any that we might have in common. But he was technically asking about me and what I’m interested in sooo …
“I dated one once a long time ago. And sort of started to on here with a black guy from Louisiana but that faded out. There aren’t a lot of black men where I live so I don’t meet that many at all. But like I said, I’m into tall and smart and kind. Don’t care where people are from.”
oh .was it just sex from the lousiana guy…you flew to meet andhave sex. that is hot.
yea to be honest that is why i was looking aroudn other areas cause white girls from there dont know about us..the bad things ..you know shit like no manners, high hiv rate, thieves, users,.and theentire black guy using the white girl for sex thing.
but are you hooked though?
My head spun. I was more disgusted than offended. And confused as to why and how he had jumped to so many conclusions and fabricated flash fiction out of just two factoids: black and from Louisiana. I had actually grown somewhat close to Louisiana, (as he was listed in my contacts). But we never met, let alone slept together. We had conversations that lasted all night and left us tired all day. We talked about music, our families, college football, his heart transplant and the day he finally met the donor’s mother, my accident and subsequent surgeries. He grew distant, ghosted me, resurfaced to tell me that he had had another heart attack and that I was the one who ghosted him. He was angry at life and God and the doctors were not hopeful. I never heard from him again.
But of course this fuckboy was not interested in a real human connection, let alone hearing about mine with someone else. So he rewrote my story to create the sexploit he preferred. That I had flown to Louisiana just to have sex with a black guy I met online — and then got hooked.
This guy’s tragicomedy of having to overcome the stereotype of black guys using white girls for sex in order to use a white girl for sex was hysterical. The irony was completely lost on him. And since people always accuse each other of labeling irony incorrectly I double-checked the definition just to make sure it wasn’t lost on me too.
I continued the exchange — I can’t really call it a conversation — for too many messages, convinced that there was a human attached to this one-track dick. There had to be. And surely I could shame him into better manners. Right? After all, he wouldn’t want to perpetuate this black-men-have-bad-manners stereotype that I’d never even heard of, right? And I was lonely. I had started to deeply miss conversation and connection.
“WOW. You read an awful lot into my message that was not there AT ALL. NO. I did not hook up with the guy from Louisiana. We talked on the phone for a few weeks and had these great conversations — which is the most important thing to me when getting to know someone. Perhaps I need to emphasize this more strongly — I am not into anyone based on just their skin color. TALL. SMART. KIND. FUNNY. LOYAL. Those are the things I’m looking for. I have never had casual sex. I am not that kind of girl. And remember, all ethnicities have people with bad manners, thieves, etc. That’s not something I exclusively associate with black guys. But just as I’m not looking for a man of any specific ethnicity I wouldn’t want a man to be attracted to me just because I’m white.”
He was unapologetic. And undeterred.
well sorry to tell u thats all we ever talk about is who is fucking which white girls…im sure u know that. so anytime u get with a black its always gona be about u being white ..if he talks to his frinds family or whatver .he is fucking a white girl. and not to mention make the white boys jealous lol
isnt that why u went with black in first place ..to try? cause it was naughty? like i bet you that guy from lousiana had asked ifu been with a black man ,..its normal
“You do not speak for all black men any more than I speak for all white women. Your perspective sounds really sad and one-dimensional. The guy from Louisiana actually didn’t ask me if I’d been with a black guy before. He was the first black guy who didn’t initially talk about being black but he did bring it up later. But he had a lot of funny things to say about black and white stereotypes. Not gross and inappropriate things. So no, that’s not why I talked to him. I have no need or time to rebel against anything. Because I’m not a pissed-off teenager. I’m a person who talks to people who have interesting things to say. And since I never met him he has nothing to tell his friends and family except that we had a lot of great conversations. So did you only email me because I’m white? Or are there personality types and things that you’re typically attracted to?”
to be real just cause u r white ..i doubt any black guy cares what your personality is if u r white…..j. .most white girls into black men down here r ugly.
I decided to repeat myself one last time. I told him exactly who I was and what I was looking for in a last-ditch effort to make a human connection with what I was now certain was only a fuckboy.
“I appreciate your honesty. But I’m totally not interested in casual relationships. I am only interested in getting to know good people with integrity, complexity, a global world view with ambition and compassion. I think my great dream in life is to meet someone that I can work abroad with and build a home in the US with a huge garden. So if you’re just looking to hook up with random white girls I’ll just wish you the best of luck with whatever white girls are into random hook-ups. Thank you for being direct though. That’s rare and I appreciate it.”
Astonishingly, he was ignoring everything I was repeating over and over again — my dreams, my goals, my manners — and went for the gold.
how about u play on cam for me?
He was nothing if not unflinching in his honesty. But I was truly confounded that a man I had explicitly told that I was not into anything casual would suggest that I do something that is not only casual, but so asymmetrical. If I were unwilling to have casual sex with him, even though it comes with the possibility, not a guarantee, but an opportunity, to share mutual pleasure, why on God’s green Earth would I want to service him with a casual gift? What in the name of all that is holy would I gain from performing for a man I was not attracted to?
Sure. I’m not interested in sharing anything casual but I’ll just perform for you. Let me entertain you, dear stranger. Since he was in Florida, where all hilarious headlines come from, I decided to be direct as well. And to seek some apparently race-based answers.
“Excuse me? Play? Does that mean what I think it does? If so, then absolutely not. I don’t think I can be any clearer that I’m not into anything casual. Do you have some preference for white women? If so, why?”
He had three very simple reasons. And never, in a million years, would I have guessed any of them.
to make them dirty..to make them take black dick..to make white boys jealous
Years later I was astonished to hear St. Paul in a letter to the Romans:
I am speaking to you Gentiles. Inasmuch as I am the apostle to the Gentiles, I magnify my ministry, in the hope that I may provoke my own people to jealousy and save some of them. For if their rejection is the reconciliation of the world, what will their acceptance be but life from the dead?
I sat at mass alone and chuckled, remembering that some dude in Florida thought that some white girl would fly across the country just to “make white boys jealous” by sleeping with a black stranger. Not that it made any difference back then but I’m glad I shut him down, even if I never should’ve responded in the first place.
“Well we’re done here. You and I obviously have nothing in common. Having intimacy with someone to make another race jealous is one of the weirdest things I’ve heard in a long time.”
u said u appreicate truth…any black guy u hook up with is gonna think the same. its all we ever talk about is which white girls we fucked. its a known thing you said it yourself black men always ask have u been with another black..or i bet you during sex wtih your old black ex..i bet u he said somethign about u being white..or u like my black more then white cock
aand u know whites be jealous when they see u with a black..im sure u noticed it
But back then the loneliness had metastasized and sometimes it was too easy to fill the void with distraction. So I pingpong-ed with this dumdum for too long. His shit storm of bad grammar, bad spelling and sociocultural “exploration” revealed a world view I was not professionally qualified to interact with. His one-dimensionality towered above all else though.
With the most expository simplicity I could, I refuted more of his fiction and tried to solidify the space between us, the divergent worlds we live in.
“Nope. He was not my ex. We never dated. I never slept with him. He never became my boyfriend. So no, I didn’t notice anything like that. Nor do I care what other people think. I would only date someone because I find them interesting and we have a connection. Not because I want to make another race jealous. SO. WEIRD. And I find this conversation to be really one-dimensional. While I find the topic of race to be an interesting one it is boring if that’s the only thing that people have to talk about. So since you only seem to be interested in talking about black/white and casual sex I doubt you’d be interested in talking about what books you love or your favorite places to travel. Or what you think about international philanthropy or even politics.”
I thought maybe I could overwhelm him with what was, by comparison to what he was offering, complexity. That if I honestly shared with him who I was and what I wanted from this many-splendored life he would see that there was a soul inside the white skin.
He stayed on message and never deviated from the singular task of finding and fucking a not-fat not-trashy white girl. Tinder hadn’t been invented yet.
lol..nah just looking for sex..ill fly to u if need be
“I’m not that kind of girl. We’re done here. Best of luck in your search.”
Rather than take the time to actually be vulnerable and authentic and get to know other people he closed his account. No part of me was shocked when he proved to be one of the users who was more willing to put time and energy into scamming the system by opening a new account in order to continue being show-ponied as a “new” member.
A familiar message appeared at the end of our thread from the site, not from him.
Sorry, FloridaInches no longer has an account.