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]

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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.

Only Broke Men Are Mad When Women Say They Don't Date Broke Men

A few weeks ago, I told you all reasons why women should date and marry up, and I didn’t think I’d be back on a related topic this soon. I was thinking I’d finish my list of 50 Photo-Ops in Los Angeles today, but after being annoyed by ignorance on Clubhouse, the spirit led me here.

When I was a little girl and I’d get in trouble and told “I don’t want to hear anything… you better not say a word,” my head would be ready to explode! I’ve been opinionated, and very vocal about those opinions, since I learned my first words. I began using writing as an outlet when I wasn’t allowed to speak, and I suppose that’s what I’m doing right now.

I was cursed out then kicked out by a mature (in age), grown man.

This blog post isn’t about him, though. The anger he spewed at me, and the sheep that supported his venomous rage, simply got me thinking… why does it make some men so mad when a woman doesn’t want to sleep with a man that has one foot in a studio apartment and the other foot halfway into homelessness?!

I’m steadily trying to increase the amount of content on my website, and since this was on my mind, I figured I’d think out loud.

I’ll do the other blog post (a list of places to take pictures that will say you’re in L.A.) later.

If you don’t care to tune into my on my soapbox, please go enjoy the While in Los Angeles guide. Yesterday, I added a new piece under the Buy Black section, where I share Black-owned businesses aroundLA that’ll get you vacation-ready!

Okay, let’s get into it.

The only men that get offended when women say they don’t date broke men are broke men.

I hopped in the group message with a couple of my girlfriends from Louisiana and told them what had transpired on Clubhouse.

Let me fill you all in.. what is Clubhouse?

Clubhouse is an audio social media app. I liken it to a big conference or convention, but virtual. You know how a conference is held at a set location and at that location there are multiple rooms with different conversations or activities going on in each? That’s how it is. You can walk down the (virtual) hallway, getting a glimpse of what’s going on and see a little of who’s in each room.

If a room looks interesting to you, you can walk in (click on) the room and join it. There’s an elevated panel of speakers “on stage” (users at the top of the screen with microphone audio ability) and there’s an “audience” (users towards the bottom of the screen without mic ability) tuning in. If you have something you’d like to contribute to the conversation, you can “raise your hand” to speak by clicking on the icon of a hand in the bottom right corner of your screen.

If one of the moderators of the panel discussion (users highest toward the top of the screen with an asterisk in a green circle beside their name) would like, they can send you an “invite to join the stage”. When you press accept, you’ll be moved up from the virtual audience and onto the virtual stage, and given a mic (have the ability to speak on the app).

And now let me tell you what happened there.

I opened the app and joined one of the first rooms that appeared in my hallway. (Clubhouse will put rooms in your hallway that the algorithms think you may be interested in, the same way Instagram puts posts on your explore page). Though the lead moderator invited me to the stage immediately, giving me the ability to join the conversation, I left my mic on mute for a few hours or so and didn’t say a single peep. I was writing the “While in Los Angeles… Buy Black” blog post I told you all about earlier, and I had my phone volume completely turned down, allowing the Clubhouse app to only play like a radio on low. I also had soft music playing from my desktop computer. So, I was on the app, and in the room, but it was more for background noise as I work in my home office, which is something I do often.

I finished the piece I was working on, and shortly thereafter hell broke loose.

When I picked up my phone and started listening to the conversation, it was on the currently trending phrase “broke boys don’t deserve no p*ssy.” I don’t know how it got there from the original topic of the room, but that’s where it was when I happened to tune in. One of the men said, “why not?!” They then began to say that a man being broke shouldn’t be a factor if you find the man attractive. The lead moderator with his vulgar mouth said something along the lines of “if you want to f*** him, f*** him.” Then a man’s voice said, “just because a man is broke doesn’t mean he doesn’t get horny.. a broke n**** got needs too!”

And here comes what some people would define as a “pick me,” a girl that tries to insinuate that she’s different from other girls and/or say something in agreement with the male perspective in an effort to gain male desire and/or attention.

This woman did a whole soliloquy about how we don’t know what a man has been through, what type of childhood trauma he survived and the resulting pain and behaviors he brought into adulthood. “Maybe he’s still living at home with his mom for a reason. Maybe he stuck for a reason,” I remember the woman’s voice saying. Then she continued on about how a man that is struggling needs a woman, and that a woman can help him get a job and a place. She said a whole lot and I wasn’t recording, so I can’t quote her exactly word-for-word, but what I do remember for sure is that she ended by saying something along the lines of being denied sex isn’t going to make broke men feel any better, so “they need p**** too!”

I took my microphone off of mute and said in a cartoon voice, “sure they do.. they just won’t get it from me.”

Ladies on stage came off of mute with laughter and words of agreement. The lead moderator, the one that brought me up to stage, immediately quieted the room. One of the men said, “T.K. has been in here a while and hasn’t said anything, I want to hear what she has to say,” but other people starting talking. He quickly brought it back to me, “T.K., what do you have to say? Answer the question.” I asked what question. (Maybe before I picked up my phone and started listening they were going down the line asking women to answer whatever question was at hand). He said, “would you give a broke man some p*ssy?” I simply responded, “no.” The man that posed the question and the lead moderator asked “why not?”

I’m not a woman that has ever been promiscuous, though I admire women that are sexually liberated, I’ve never found it in myself to be so free. It takes a while to work your way into this womb. And I don’t foresee a broke man making it there. I explained this.

For some reason, people chose to have selective hearing, and responded, “oh, so a man can’t take you on a walk in the park as a date?” Then the lead moderator jumped in and said “yeah, but you’ll let him f*** if he takes you to a fancy restaurant.”

via GIPHY

Whaaaaaaaaat? [inserts RHOA “who said that?” gif] I had to let him know that he made that scenario up in his own mind because I didn’t say anything of them sort. In fact, I said the opposite. I don’t care if the first date is at a park or the fanciest restaurant in Beverly Hills, it’s highly unlikely that I’m having sex with someone after either. Then I reiterated my initial point that it takes time for me to reach the level of sexual intimacy with a partner.

The lead moderator gave his best effort at a rebuttal. “See, you don’t know this, but a man that takes you to a park will be better at connecting with you than a man that takes you to a bullsh*t a** fancy restaurant. I promise you that.”

Then another pick me joined the lead moderator’s efforts and said, “yeah, what’s wrong with the park? A man can trick you to think he has money with these PPP loans right now, take you to a fancy restaurant, f*** you, and then you find out he’s broke, so you can’t say you don’t f*** broke men because you have been fooled before and f***** a broke man but you just didn’t know it.”

Whooooooooooooooooo? I told her that she obviously missed my opening statement. I know I haven’t had sexual intercourse with clown, bum, nor fraud, in the way she described being fooled or falling victim to a facade because I deeply get to know a person before I allow them to put their private part inside of mine.

Okay, I’m starting to yawn and get a headache, so I’ll spare both of us the remainder of this back and forth dialogue, and get to the point… men being mad and where they should channel that energy instead.

You’re not missing much because the dialogue portion ended quickly when the lead moderator either had no valid points to make or was incapable of articulating them. Instead, he resorted to yelling insults into the microphone, making up stuff I hadn’t said, then calling me a golddigging a** b**** and repeatedly saying how dumb I sound for it (it being the stuff he made up in his mind).

I would say he manipulated my words, but he wasn’t oratorically skilled enough to do that. I don’t know if his understanding is so poor that he completely misinterpreted everything I said, or if he straight up told bold faced lies on me.

If you’re wondering what I was doing during this verbal attack, I couldn’t do much. In his screaming words, “this is my house and I can be as disrespectful as I want to be in my house. I say whatever the f*** I want to say in my house. Shut the f*** up!” (Reminder: this was all taking place virtually, over an app, even though the way he was talking, you’d swear he has keys to a physical location). The moment I did squeeze a word in edgewise, he (virtually) kicked me out.

When I talked to my girlfriends from Louisiana about it in our group message, I came to the realization that it’s never the secure and successful men getting upset about women having reasonable and respectable standards. It’s actually the complete opposite.

Successful men take pride in the fact that a woman they’re involving themselves with wouldn’t entertain any old dusty!

What did Young Dolph say?

You cain’t f*** with my girl, she a rich n**** b****

via GIPHY

Have some pride… or don’t.

If you’re interested in a low value woman, pursue that. If you want some sympathy cat, according to that Clubhouse room, there’s some women out there willing to give it to you… don’t get mad at those of us who won’t.

Good things don’t come easy

If you want something a little more quality, that’s going to take you some time and effort.

Dating and relationships are unique to each pair of people, but most of them tend to follow an evolving sequence of stages. First comes basic attraction, then comes interests (getting to know one another), and after those two comes deeper intimacy (which may include physical intimacy). These stages don’t happen in the matter of hours, days, or even weeks or months. That second stage alone, the one after the initial meeting/attraction, is likely to last 3 to 4 months, according to Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist Sally Connolly.

Maybe you aren’t thinking about dating seriously. Maybe you only want to get your little pedawhacker wet. There are still other things you can focus all that pent up energy on.

3 Things broke boys can try other than trying to get in a girl’s panties

1. Pray

   The Lord is your Shephard, you shall not want.. for p**** you think you should have but are not entitled to

2. Get therapy

   A 60-minute therapy session with a licensed professional will likely be more beneficial than the 60 seconds it takes you to climax

3. Make some money

   Not to pry your way into the penis fly trap. Prioritize. Maybe start with paying off your back-owed child support

Yeah.

I started this blog post very spur of the moment, got distracted, went on about my day, then came back to my desk and noticed it up on my computer screen, after I was already over this topic, but I figured since I started it, I may as well finish it. I didn’t jot down notes and work from there, how I like to do, which now leaves me unsure if I covered everything, or approached the topic at the angle, I originally wanted to for this post. At this point though, it’s approaching 2am in L.A, I’m a couple of glasses of wine in, and I’m ready to go to bed, so I’m done.

If it’s terrible, let me know. I probably won’t delete it because I need all the content and clicks I can get. Let’s run these analytics up! I will, however, take it into consideration before I get on my soapbox again.

A hit dog will holler.

I’ll close on that note.

Before you attack a woman that says she doesn’t desire to have sexual relations with broke men, ask yourself why does that trigger you?

Feel free to unleash your hurt male egos in the comment section of this blog post below.