Red Room Where the Writers Are

So I went out for coffee today at the local joe shack.  Sitting with my computer, looking as pretentious as the next person, when a cute guy comes over and sits next to me.  I, being a single girl, take note of him.

6 feet tall, beautiful blue eyes, clean shaved.  Oh, dimples; I like dimples! Very sexy arms.....and legs.....and hands. I've got a thing for hands. Strong, manly, manicured hands.  Maybe I should say somethi...

"Hello."

Look at those dimples "Hi!"

"Would you plug me in?"

"Sure, I suppose I could share my juice."

"I'm sure you say that to all the guys."

There are those dimples again.  I wonder if I should make stupid convers...

"So, as far as cheesy lines go I think I'll start off with, Do you come here often?"

Well so far he thinks at least one step ahead of me.  I wonder if he knows how many brownie points he's earning without even knowing it.

"No, I really don't go anywhere often." I smile coyly "How about you?"

"Well, I usually work out around this time, but I had a shit load of coffee last night and couldn't sleep.  So, I worked out early this morning and now I'm here.....boring you to death with this story"

God that smile-those dimples I laugh like he's funnier than he really is....why do I do that?

"I'm so sorry."

"No, that's OK.  I like when random guys drone on about coffee and working out too much.  Let me ask you a question.  Do you usually pick up women with this stuff?"

He laughs. "No, no I don't pick up women.  I'm too busy for that usually but I think you're the most beautiful black girl I've ever seen."

Holy Crap! Did he just say black girl? What the...!? OK, brownie points out of the window; just play it cool.  I guess I don't fit the bill for just pretty.  There must be separate but equal scales for beauty between black girls and every other race?  Or does every race have it's own scale?  If there is a separate but equal scale, where do I fall on the black scale?  How about the white scale?  Or do I not measure up on any other scale but the black girl scale?  "Well, thank you-I think?  You're cute for a white guy."

"Oh yeah! Well thanks,"

Oh my! He actually thought that was a compliment!  Well so much for thinking one step ahead of me.

"So, do you think I could have your number?  Maybe I could take you out for too much coffee and a workout."

OK, so do I go through the lengthy explanation that I would never date a guy who rated me on a scale that was regulated to race and that any girl who would is not self aware enough to know her own worth? Do I tell him that if he thought I was beautiful without the 'for a black girl' comment then I would love to go out with him; but clearly he's never dated inter-racially before and I don't like to be the first 'black girl' that anyone dates?  Maybe I'll just keep it simple and tell him that I have a boyfriend? No, you have to say something quick!  Just make something up!

"Um, no. That wouldn't be a good idea.  I'm very busy and I actually hate working out and I'm allergic to coffee."

"Wow!  Are you blowing me off?"

Those dimples almost make him forgivable- "Yeah, sorry.  I just think that maybe you haven't done this before; and by this I mean go out with a 'black girl' before and I'm really not into being anyones' first.  So, thanks, but no thanks."

I told this story for a reason.  I told this story so that you could have a small glimpse into the life of a single, woman of color who has to make choices based upon how other people see her.  It's easy to define yourself or not define yourself in life when it all depends upon you.  However, when you add other people into the mix you add the element of surprise.  The element of the unknown, the element of no control; of how people think or perceive you.  After I left that joe shack and got into my car, I sat and thought about how different that encounter would have gone if I were different; if he were different.  I often hope that people see me for who and what I am, which is really a myriad of things, but they can only see me if I take the time to show them. 

Which is why I wrote this.  To give you a piece of me, of my mind, of my heart, my soul, of a day in the life of a simply complex woman of color who is Jewish and loves hockey(go Ducks!).  A woman who has learned more from other peoples mistakes than her own.  A woman who is a bit obsessive about cleaning(vacuuming and washing clothes to be precise) and loves to watch C-Span booktv on Saturdays and As Time Goes By on Saturday evenings.  A woman that tries to be more self aware than self serving and is always harder on herself than she is on others.  A woman who wants simply to love and be loved in return.

I'm sure you're thinking, "Well, that sounds about right.  That's what every woman wants."  My sentiment exactly, welcome to a day in the life of mine.