I’ve had the same conversation multiple times about my dating black guys. Usually with white guys. When someone finds out that my boyfriend/(soon to be ex-)husband is black I automatically become one of those girls.
One of what girls? Those ones.
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I got my first sex-toy by accident. I wasn’t really expecting it and I didn’t buy it. I also didn’t like it, rarely used it and didn’t buy anything else for years.
I threw it away a couple of years ago. But I always have very unfond memories of it.
So guys are kind of a pain in the ass and I try to lie or evade direct questions about how many guys I’ve banged.
But that doesn’t work when they are trying to be sneaky and ask indirect questions about my number. So I have a little game that I like to play to keep myself in their good graces.
I was talking to one of the pharmacists at work one day. Sex is a popular topic in my conversations. I like to horrify my friends with my stories. The pharmacist was a guy and he said something about guys not caring how many guys a woman has been with.
I don’t know what planet he lives on, but guys do care. Some of them care a lot.
So after my all night disappearance, I am pretty sure that my (soon to be ex) Husband was not pleased to find me with The Arab. Actually, I know he was pissed because he came right out and said so.
After a silent cab ride home.
Occasionally an opportunity goes by that you just can’t pass up. I had one of those nights about three months after I got married. I got to throw three of his problems in his face in one night.
To show him how it felt.
I can do anything better than you. 
I let my (soon to be ex) Husband get to me the first time we were together. A lot. Especially at the beginning of our relationship and marriage. I let him walk all over me. Belittle me. Try to change me.
Needless to say, we had a lot of problems.
If you ask me, there really aren’t any good reasons to get married. I would know, I’ve done it. It’s boring, you get into a rut and take each other for granted. You settle down, don’t really do anything anymore, have kids and life gets worse from there. Then instead of being somone, you are someone’s mom.
At least this had held true with my friends and my life.
That is not to say that I’m not happy being single. I am, most of the time. I get lonely, sure. But I get lonely in relationships sometimes too.
But why won’t other people just let me be happy and single? Why am I supposed to want to be in a relationship? Because it’s the normal thing to do?
Who the hell said I’m normal anyway?
Husband and I were texting a bit last Saturday and he ended up asking me if I was going out that night. I said no, still saving for a new computer, blah, blah, waaaaah. So he said he and his friends were going to Saratoga (Traver’s Weekend madhouse) and if I wanted to go, it would be on him.
Did I just hear free alcohol? Dancing?
