Starter White Boy

Thursday night, PF Changs, it’s a date. A first date, but to me, it’s a double first date. This is the 1st time I’m out with this guy, and this guy is my first white boy. See, I’ve always been curious about white boys, but never acted on it. Being biracial, but brought up by a single black mother, black men have naturally been my preference due to their accessibility. That’s all I was ever around.

But, here I am, 27 years old, finally, with a white boy. But, not the white boy I envisioned. When I imagined my starter white boy, I thought of a young Tom Cruise, Mathew McConaughey, Brad Pitt. Clean cut, well dressed, rich. What sat across from me easily could be described as the spawn of Kid Rock and Eminem. His calves, forearms, and probably entire torso were covered in tattoos. So many that I couldn’t decipher specifically what they were. He wore a t-shirt, cargo short pants, and sketcher sneakers. I wore my usual first date uniform - black leggings, smedium sweater, and knee high patent leather cat woman boots. We clearly looked like the odd couple – not because I was brown and he was tattooed, but because our clothing suggested we accidentally ended up here, together, at the same table. At this point, I realized I need to be more specific with what I ask for.

A week prior, I was on a Baltimore radio station promoting my comedy show. The morning show host began poking fun at me and somehow ended up discussing my preference in men. I joked I had never had a white boy and would love to try one out. “So what do you like in a guy so we can hook this up?” I was asked. Me, being a comedian, immediately went into joke mode. “I like teeth, specifically molars and the two big ones in the front; I like legs, a left and a right one, and a penis, singular – just one. And that’s exactly what I got – teeth, legs, and a penis.

Prior to the date I was extremely nervous. Like any 1st in your life, you want it to be perfect, but I didn’t know what a perfect 1st white boy would be. I didn’t even know what a perfect 1st date should be because I never had one. I thought really hard about awkward situations that might come up – like if he tried to kiss me, what would I do, because I don’t know if white people kiss differently, which I immediately realized was really stupid. But not once did I have my usual 1st date thoughts when dating a black guy, like, I wonder if he’ll like me, I hope he’s not strange, he better pay.

So, here I sat, across from my starter white boy, sharing a plate of calamari and praying he doesn’t double dip. Conversation surprisingly flowed very well with the assistance of a long island. I was pleasantly surprised that he was extremely proficient at using chopsticks. Something about tattoos and chopsticks didn’t mesh in my head.
Half way through dinner, he states “next time we go out, I know a better Chinese spot than this.” “You dare challenge PF Changs,” I snap back! This sparked an extremely heated debate about Chinese cuisine which led to a 2 hour long dinner followed by dessert.

I realized I was having a really good time with my starter white boy, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up because we still had one hump to get over to make this 1st date a positive memory. As if the waitress could read my mind, she walks over and as if in slow motion, stands the black bill protector, slightly ajar in the middle of the table. Horrible memories of cheap dates run through my head, and I immediately pull out my card and put it in the bill protector to avoid the embarrassment and disappointment that usually comes from my assuming the man is supposed to pay. Without hesitation, my tattooed, starter, white boy removes my card, hands it back to me, and inserts his. It is at this moment, I realize, this white boy has met all my black boy 1st date requirements – he’s not strange, he’s a gentleman, and he pays.

Dating a white boy is no longer a conquest and the old cliché “Never judge a book by its cover” was confirmed. Not only am I looking forward to my 2nd date with my starter white boy, but I’m now moving onto Asians.

Who Pays?! We Both Have Vaginas!

Let me first start with a disclaimer: I'm heterosexual. I have no issues with homosexuals. There - disclaimer done, let's get to the blogging...

So, I cut off all my hair approximately a year ago and realized I had that "lesbian chic" look going on - I'm sure you all know the signature lesbian haircut which also doubles as the "I'm a white woman who only dates black men" haircut (for some reason, all the white women I've seen that date black men have the same white version of Halle Berry's short-d0). Apparently, my new haircut started causing lots of lesbians' "gay-dar" to go off, because I received a surplus of invites for lesbian rendezvouses. Now, I was quite flattered because #1, I love attention and take it however I can get it, and #2, some of these chicks were very pretty!

There was one instance where I was approached at a comedy show by a lesbian, who, get this, was on a date with a man...so technically she was bisexual - technically. She waited until her date went to the bathroom to approach me with her phone number stating "if you're into women, or ever plan on being into women, give me a call." Now, I am not into women, and I don't see any future PLANS of me changing my mind, but I still put her number in my purse because I know how hard it is as a woman to take rejection. On the way out, her date rolled his eyes at me when I told her good night - I speculate he had an issue with her approaching women(different to most men I know, but, whatever floats your boat).

A few days later I found the number while cleaning out my purse and asked one of my male friends, "if I were to go on a date with her, who would pay?" His response, "the more manly looking one." "But, we're both cute," I replied. "Okay. Then the dom," which I learned is short for dominant. A couple of my other friends stated she would have to pay since she initiated the date.

Let's visit this hypothetical situation: I'm asked on a date by a chick and I accept. We meet, eat (no pun intended), talk, and here comes the check...on the table...equidistant from the two of us...do I dare reach...wait a minute, she's reaching, reviewing, grabbing purse, pulling wallet out, scanning cards, pulls out card...do I dare offer to pay all or even my portion of the bill (cause I hate going dutch, even with my homegirls - someone just pay the damn bill! It'll equal itself out over the duration of our friendship)...what if I don't and she expects me to put out, or thinks I'm cheap...does this mean if we continue to date, she has assumed the "dom" role?!

So many questions which I can't answer because I've never dated a woman before. The only solution to this perplex situation is to treat it like a heterosexual date and assume [what I consider to be] proper 1st date etiquette: the man pays. The man in this homosexual relationship would be the initiator, therefore, my debit card stays in my wallet, in my purse! In addition, I can't see myself treating some chick that's trying to do me to dinner! That's just asking to be touched!

Sooo....to my blog readers, I ask you, what is the proper etiquette in this situation? Does the a) initiator pay for the meal or b) do we go dutch? In addition, should I feel obligated to offer to pay? Looking forward to hearing the responses!!