Put Out Because I Wouldn't Put Out
Y’all, tell me why a guy sent my tail packing when I wouldn’t let him in my panties yesterday.
Whew child, where do I begin?
Do I start describing his dingaling out or the degradation that followed?
I suppose I ought to give a disclaimer. Mildly explicit content is likely to follow in this blog post that I didn’t want to (or even think to) write. It wasn’t until earlier today, the morning after the encounter, that I was moved to share. My best guy friend, Calvin, with his sickening behind, responded “blog content” as I was trying to talk to him about my rather eventful evening.
My closest straight male friend, Calvin, was even taken aback by this move by a fellow man.
Calvin’s crass response is definitely not what motivated me to be writing this right now; I’ll get into what did later, but for now, lemme just run it to you..
Lawd, I should’ve known better than to give a fine man a try. That was my first mistake.
Usually, I prefer me a good smedium ugly negro, I ain’t lying. The men I gravitate towards most often are men that I find attractive, but others find creature-like. Never was I the girl to like the pretty boy. In elementary school, while all my female peers were screaming their hearts out about Lil’ Bow Wow or Lil’ Romeo, I was entranced with the man behind a bullet-shattered glass on a bootleg CD cover my PawPaw had bought me at the barber shop. A little rough, a little rugged, an unconventional beauty in my eyes, is what I tend to like. The man that put me out yesterday though?? Oh no baby, fully conventional beauty!
⁺Amon has looks that almost every woman would find attractive, and even straight men could honestly say “that’s a good-looking dude.” Yeah, everybody is somebody’s type, but you know those people that are fine to everybody? Think Morris Chestnut, think that one #PrisonBae guy that went viral. There’s a general consensus that those are highly attractive people across the board. That’s Amon, that’s the type of fine he is. Just fine. Ugh! A damn shame… Towering over folks at 6’6”, carrying a good 200lbs in toned, masculine, mouth-watering muscle. Mr. Goodbar, milk-chocolate looking muhsucka.. Mm, mm, mn! Dayuuuuum.
Oss, him being a decent candidate for dating.. no kids, doing well for himself.. makes it hurt more. If it were a man I would’ve never considered no way, I wouldn’t be as disappointed by the way things transpired.
How did I meet, and end up inside of a private residence with, this man?
We had to meet ‘round the top of my stay here in L.A., back in 2017. Sitting at a sidewalk table in Hollywood, I remember a few guys approaching my co-worker and I. They were all a part of the same hedge fund management group. We chatted it up and found out there was some overlap in people we knew. We exchanged contact information and began linking up when work would bring them to L.A. from NYC. Group hangouts were great for entertaining my girlfriends. We bumped into each other here and there from being in the same place at the same time aroundLA, and once, me and my girls ended up rolling with that crew in Vegas.
Amon and I never spent any time one-on-one. Really, he was thee only one, out of that whole connected web, that had never flirted with me. It was always very cool and casual whenever we’d see one another. Though we had each other’s number and social media handles, there was never much conversation beyond small commentary or basic checking in. Sure, I could safely assume that he found me attractive, but he’d never come off strongly nor aggressive at all. As I said, it was always cool vibes. Which is why, when he’d told me he’d relocated to L.A., as opposed to flying back and forth for work, I was open to the idea of linking up.
What? A friend that’s always cool whenever he’s in L.A. has moved to L.A. and wants to link? Absolutely. Bet.
He initially hit me up some months ago about getting together, to which I responded, “let’s.” Time passed, I was in and out of town, he was in and out of town, schedules didn’t align, no one pressed the issue. We stayed in contact and revisited the idea. A little less general, and with much more urgency, this man said, “what you doing in an hour?” I was thinking, “oh, okay, my boy ain’t resting on his laurels this time!” And it’s early in the afternoon?! Okaaaaaay! Yes!
When the sun is out, I am much more likely to accept an invite to hangout.
A daytime invite from a male suitor seems innocent, harmless. It’s after the sun has set that makes me suspicious, so I save us both time by not responding until the morning. Because… sir, wtf do you think this is?! Pull up. [at midnight] For what? Baby, goodnight.
An hour comes and goes before he hits me with the eyes emoji. I let him know I was waiting to hear more from him. He calls me and we talk on the phone for an hour. He seemed very undecided about what he wanted to do or where he wanted to go. He asked me what I wanted to do, but every suggestion I threw out, he knocked down.
“It’s so pretty out. Runyon’s nice.” … “I’ve been up since 3am; I don’t have energy for a hike.”
“Sitting out somewhere grabbing a bite is always an option.” … “I ate in the meeting I just left.”
“Oh, the pool…?” … “Yeah, I don’t feel like swimming.”
Sir… You don’t want to go for a hike. You don’t want to go have lunch. You don’t want to go for a swim. What you tryna do then?!
He asks me if I smoke and says I can pull up to the house in ⁺⁺Beverly Glenn. When I told him that I don’t smoke, he asked me again what I want to do, adding the comment, “I don’t want you to pull up to the house then stare at me talkin’bout you bored.” I giggled and let him know that I don’t have to smoke to chop it up and I won’t be bothered by him smoking.
“Are you good at massages?” he asked randomly. I smacked my lips. “Whaaaat?” I smacked my lips again. He asked why I was doing all of that and I said, “because you is a n****.. and we know how n***** is.” He let out a good laugh and agreed with me. We all know that most times a massage can never be just a massage with a man. He tried to reassure me that he wasn’t even thinking of it that way, he “honestly” only had real body aches in mind, not foreplay to increased action.
Yeah, okay… (I’m saying “yeah, okay” sarcastically now, knowing better in retrospect, but in the moment, my duck a** went for it.. “hm, yeah.. when I started working with a personal trainer, I definitely could’ve used a serious business massage”-looking-a**.. annoying)
My girl CeCe must have a crystal ball, because how did she predict this man “wants to hump”?! It was noon when he hit my line to link up for goodness sake! Who makes booty calls at noon??
[BTW: …By the way, a little BTS (behind-the-scenes, but BTW for behind-the-writing.. I just made this up as I type this.. It’s September; according to Google docs, I started writing this a little after midnight back in November… yes, darn near a year ago… I’m sickening. Does anybody else start a project or task, then fail to return and finish it? Ugh.. Well, since I’m here, lemme finish this one right quick..]
Long story short, he sends a car for me to meet him at the mansion where he’s there awaiting my arrival at the top of a steep driveway behind a keypad-restricted solid wooden gate. He greets me with open arms and a big smile, takes me inside, shows me around briefly, then lets me sit down to eat the food he’d picked up for me (since he didn’t want to go out to eat).
“You said you drink, right?” He says as he looks towards to the living space’s bar.
“Yeah, I actually brought something.”
“Oh sweet, pull it out.”
I grab a bottle of bubbly out of my Saint Louis Tote.
“Oh…” He says dully. “You hold on to that,” he continues, “let’s take a shot.”
He walks over to the bar and pours us both a shot. We take them, few words, little giggles, the usual shot-taking decorum.
“You still eating?” He poses a rhetorical question as I’m putting another fork of food into my mouth.
“Man come in here.”
I close up my food and follow him.
Next thing I know, we’re in a low-lit bedroom with music playing and his penis out.
Hey, I said long story short.
I’ve since picked up in conversations amongst males the “draw down” technique. Surely I’d heard this terminology before my encounter with this fine man in that mansion, but it wasn’t until after this experience that it registered.
Shiiiiiid, I ain’t doing all that playing, I’ma draw down on her.
This is a method where a man will pull out his penis in a private setting unprompted to see if the woman will move the sexual encounter forward.
I did not move the encounter forward. I left. ⁺⁺⁺And I had to pay for my own Uber home.
There are so many sticky situations when it comes to dating in Los Angeles. [inserts “I hate it here” gif] Ugh, I love it here, but the dating scene aroundLA is less than desirable. If you live in L.A., would you agree that the dating scene isn’t great? Or, if you live elsewhere, where most men in the dating pool don’t induce a headache or heartache, let me know your zip code.. you know, for polling purposes ☺
⁺Subject’s name and occupation have been changed to conceal the individual’s identity.
⁺⁺Neighborhood has been changed for privacy.
⁺⁺⁺The creative writer in me must’ve made up this ending, typing off the cuff, rushing, filling in the blanks with my imagination when I didn’t feel like digging thru my memory… upon checking my Uber and Lyft history, I see no ride orders placed from my account on November 21st. See, that’s why I take my time telling stories, going detail by detail. Now it’s coming back to me, see, if I’d’ve continued in my normal fashion of detailed storytelling, I would’ve went thru how after I didn’t do anything with the d***, Amon abruptly ended our quality time, saying the car would pull up quickly when I don’t think he’d ordered it yet. I’m giggling to myself now, remembering how I told my girls CeCe and Niccolette on the way to Eaton Canyon the next day, “y’all, he didn’t even let me wait for the ride inside.” I suppose it wasn’t without chivalry completely, at least he paid for it. [inserts squeamish emoji]
aroundLAwithTK is a personal lifestyle blog where I share my experiences as a normal girl navigating Los Angeles. Other writers have readers, I have riders. Thank you for being here, riders.
