Small Pond

We’ve talked repeatedly on the show about my next chapter in my life & career. No, I’m not talking about how the Ouija board cursed me to die at 35. I’m talking about the next city I migrate to for my next “big break.” Yes, I do want to be successful in radio. Yes, I would like to set roots in another city. But I also get excited at the thought of a bigger pool of dating since the men here are dusty af…just kidding..kinda. Hear me out. There have been too many instances of men I have dated that have been through my friends first. I know this is a problem for any single person in any city of any sexuality. But since I’ve back in the Tinder game, I ask my homies to review these dudes like its freakin yelp and they have references to boot! Don’t get me wrong, I’m not slut-shaming, I’m merely pointing out the six (D)egrees of separation within a 150 mile radius. I’ll share with you a personal experience I had that I still can’t get out of my head.

A few weeks ago when I was summoned back to Tinder, I swiped on a guy I was interested in. If you read one of my past PoundTakes “Date Night” you remember me talking about how I was excited to get back out there. Well, what you didn’t hear me talk about was the guy I didn’t end up going on a date with. It wasn’t even a week after we swiped right, talked a bit, exchanged numbers, that I wanted to make arrangements to meet (safely) in person. I was excited to tell my friends that I thought I made a love connection…but that dream was quick to crash and burn. After I gushed about him, I said his name in our group chat and that was awkwardly followed by radio silence for the next 10 minutes. The next text I received was in all caps, “DON’T.” Both friends had sexual relations with this guy, and despite the rave reviews in the bedroom, the mental distress they endured before and after didn’t make it worth it (it’s always those ones, right?) It would be cowardly and judgmental to just take their word for it, so I asked some of our mutual friends on social media; their responses were similar.

So I ended up handling the situation as any other rational human being would, I blocked him on all platforms, and when he asked me why I lied and said I deleted everything so I could “reset.” I actually kinda felt bad, because our hours' long text exchanges instantly became daily check-ins until I cut him off completely. But I wasn’t lying about the reset. I really do need to find new fish in this small little pond. I’m tired of meeting men that have 4787656 mutual friends on Facebook, knowing that many of them exchanged fluids. I’m sad I took the bait and listened to my friends rather than giving him a chance to explain. Now I will never know what could have been. And I’m really upset they hit it and I didn’t because they said the sex was immaculate. Damn.

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