One Date Diva: The Trifecta of Terror

Having been born and raised in Cleveland, Ohio, I was all too familiar with snow. My time in Iowa gave me a new appreciation (and dread) for wintry weather. I yearned for sun, lots of sun, year-round sun. Phoenix sounded perfect!

I was there nine months. Without a decent job and with both friends I had made on their way out of the city, I didn’t need to stay longer to know that this was not the place for me.

Then, there were the men I met, three to be exact. Three men and three progressively nightmarish dates. These dates confirmed to me that I needed to go.

Keeper of the Key

Before heading across country, my friend Thomas made me promise to be nice to guys and give them a chance. Reluctantly, I agreed.

I moved to Phoenix in December. It might have been cold in Cleveland, but it was perfect in Sun City! I had a small furnished apartment. It was cute and comfortable. Perfect for me! What I loved most is the nice walking trail that surrounded the complex. I’d walk on it regularly.

On this day, as I walked, a cute guy opened his apartment door. I don’t remember his name, but he was cute. Later, he came by my apartment, and we talked.

He asked if he could use my fitness room key because he’d lost his. No problem, I let him use mine. After all, I knew where he lived, and we planned to see each other again.

I was wrong. I never saw him again and I never got my key back. I went back to his apartment and was told that he didn’t live there. I’d look in the fitness room on my walks and I never saw him. He ghosted me before ghosting was even a thing!

Yet, I was determined to keep the promise I’d made to Thomas.

Condescension

While eating at a nearby restaurant, I met what seemed like a nice guy. We had a friendly conversation, I wasn’t attracted to him physically, but I thought I’d give him a chance. We exchanged phone numbers and talked several times. He took me out for dinner and a movie – of my choice. I picked Oliver Stone’s Nixon. A movie without sex scenes is a good idea when you are seeing it with someone you aren’t attracted to.

On the way to the movie, he told me about going to school to get his degree in Communications. He made sure I knew his GPA, his course load, and his future plans. He sure was detailed! When I tried to respond (silly me I thought we were having a conversation), he quickly cut me off. After several times, I just stopped talking.

The movie opens with a popular Bible quote, “For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?” (Mark 8:36). He leaned over and whispered, “That’s a quote from the Bible, are you familiar with the Bible?”

I said, “Yes. Yes, I am” Luckily it was dark, so he missed the biggest eye roll ever. The best comebacks come after the moment has passed. What I should have said was, “You mean the book they have in all the hotel rooms?”

Honestly, I am surprised he didn’t follow it up with “Did you know Nixon was president?”

After the movie, on the way back, he started waxing fantastic again about his bright future, impending degree, and his intelligence, which far outweighed most people. In fact, it was a feather in my cap that someone like him went out with someone like me.

I decided to play a little game called Did You Know. Did you know that the degree you are getting is the degree I already have? Did you know that I have read, from cover to cover, all 66 books of the Bible? Did you know that I’m damn smart myself? Most importantly, did you know that I had no intention of having a second date with a man who would talk down to me?

Keeping Thomas’ promise was proving difficult. However, there was one more date in the Phoenix Trifecta of Terror that would seal the deal.

The Bigamist

While walking on the trail around my apartment complex, I met Date #3. He was from the Midwest like me and both of us were around 27. We had an enjoyable conversation and I looked forward to his call. We were several discussions in when he mentioned a curious personal fact.

He has been married twice and had three kids. Okay, that was a lot but then came the curious part. His oldest and youngest kids were with his second wife, while the middle child was with the first wife. Basically, there was some baby-making back and forth going on.

I tried to be non-judgmental and keep an open mind. When he asked me to hang out in downtown Tempe, I said yes.

I moved to Phoenix Arizona in December 1995. As fate would have it, the movie Waiting to Exhale opened in December 1995. The movie was about four Black women looking for love in Phoenix, Arizona. Just like me!

Although our date was several months later, I didn’t think it was odd that he mentioned the movie. Where he took the conversation was odd. He didn’t like the movie. He felt it portrayed Black men as being bad in bed. For the entire ride and as we went to the upper levels of the parking garage, he just kept going. You see, he was a Black man who wasn’t bad in bed. In fact, he was incredibly good in bed.

As we walked through the parking garage, I told him I’d take his word for it. I explained that the two of us were never going to have sex. I had determined this several minutes into his ‘I’m good in bed’ rant.

I was determined, however, to make the most of this date and at least see a few sites I hadn’t seen. Since Tempe is the home of Arizona State University, there was a youthful energy that we fit right into. Finally, our conversation moved beyond Waiting to Exhale and my date’s alleged sexual abilities.

We stopped for dinner and had a drink. Afterwards, he wished he could have a taken his drink with him. I reminded him that open container drinking was illegal. He told me that was ‘the white man’s law.’ He didn’t think many of these ‘laws’ applied to him. In fact, just to state how inconsequential the White Man’s Law was to him, he emphatically stated he’d never bothered to get a divorce. He’d never divorced Wife #1. He’d never divorced Wife #2. Not only was I out on a date with a married man, but I was also out on a date with a bigamist.

When I asked if he were a Mormon, he didn’t get the joke. The long-drawn-out sexual conversation, the bigamy, the joke that fell flat, I knew a second date was not on the horizon.

We decided to go to the Hard Rock Café for another drink.

We ordered our drinks. And he revealed that he was a former drug dealer. I had a problem with this and said so. It was beyond hypocritical that he could be so pro-Black community on one hand and then deal drugs to the people within that same community on the other hand.

He then told me that it was okay that he sold drugs because as Black people, we are morally superior to other ethnicities and drug-dealing was okay.

The look on my face must have said it all. As the server put down my Rum and Coke, she whispered to me, “It can’t be that bad.” I responded quietly, “You have no idea.”

When we finished our drinks, it was clear that our date was finished as well. You’d think the worst was over, but The Bigamist had one more request.

On the way home, he asked if he could kiss … my feet. Huh? Not give me a kiss (on the lips) but he wanted to kiss my feet. Yes, he asked if he could put his lips on my toes and put my toes in his mouth. I’m not a foot person but I’m assuming that is how foot kissing would go.

There was nothing to think about. I blurted out an offended “No!”

It was late when I got back home. It was even later in Cleveland, but this phone call couldn’t wait. I called Thomas and told him that I had tried to uphold my promise and give guys a chance, but I just couldn’t do it anymore. The Bigamist was the last straw.

He called a few more times. I even saw him again during a walk and he threatened to make me Wife #3. But I’m not cut out to be a sister wife.