He’s an Iphone and I’m a Blackberry….

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I went to a fun event a in the recent past, and indeed I had a blast. It was a group of people with music tastes similar to mine (yes!).  One thing led to another and we ended up at da club… the last time I was at the club here, was a few months ago and I felt like an imposter.  As an almost 30 something, today’s music has no real appeal to me…Beyonce’s lastest? (yawn) Ke$ha? (ugh! How did this girl get a record deal?) and all these other songs that are good or great even, but should not be played in a club.  Ha ha… I feel like music has gotten so cross-genre that I a lot of beats while cool in collaboration, mean that people just jump around singing the words to songs.  Needless to say, I felt out of my comfort zone.  While I enjoyed the evening, and was proud of myself for trying to get out and meet new people, I was a bit disappointed in the drinking culture scene that seems to engulf expats here.  I don’t care if people drink, that’s not what I mean at all.  I just sometimes feel like people hang on to drinking as the only social event that is worth organizing and life here is not THAAAAT bad. … ha ha

But I digress, this group and I went to a club.  And it was a major fail.  We had stumbled upon India night. Translation= music we couldn’t vibe with.  The DJ was the worst, he wouldn’t even do those cool Bollywood/hip hop/rap collaborations, and everything was straight out of a Bollywood movie. The Indian patrons were happy, but we were not.  So, off we went to another club that would be a sure-fire hit.

The Indians were like Yay!

 

And we were like…no…..!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

And it was! Ha ha… the songs were a mix of Afro-R&B and hip hop/R&B and reggae from when I was college.  Oh yes, my hey day.  So yes, I partied the night away.  I am still feeling the after affects of that much dancing… ha ha…. (exercise!).  At 3 am the music stopped, the lights went on and it was time to head home.  We divided up who was giving rides to whom and I headed for the door to get my valet parking ticket validated.

A Few steps in the direction of my destination and I was flagged down by some guy, a bouncer I thought.  Although I was wondering how my bottle of water and purse could have been in violation of their policy.  At any rate, I cricked my neck to hear what he had to say and it was something to the effect of “Can I please have your number?”…huh?

yeah and funny thing is he had on a shirt like that too… ha ha….

I was confused, was this white boy asking me what I think he was asking?… and so up front about it too?  And course I had that horribly confused look on my face as well.  I asked him to repeat what he said and yup, the cigarette smoke and heat of the club had not caused me to hallucinate, he was asking what I was thought he was asking…. Ha ha.

What happened next can be left to conjecture, it’s not important.

yeah um, that is NOT how this story goes…. ha ha….

 

But it was a strange/surprising occurrence.  When you get on in age, things like that happen less and less. And when you are in a country full of people you don’t want to get attached or attracted to, you push those kinds of things out of your mind… ha ha…. Maybe in another context… after all he was tall (he had to bend down to speak into my ear and I had to arch my head up), respectful, and  cute, I think (but I mostly care that he was tall!…)ha ha

Then again, reality sets in and although I was not dressed like the ones who clearly were, the thought comes back, what if he thought I was a prostitute? (a prostitute in floor length dress? who danced with no man outside the group she came with?…. ). The reality is that people that look like me are automatically assumed to be a lot of things.  Some might think this lingering idea is ridiculous, but I don’t know. Even if he didn’t think I was prostitute, how am I to know that he wasn’t some dude with a choco-fetish?  I know about guys like that, ones that give new meaning to the once you go black, you never go back adage.  Ugh…

I don’t look to men or anyone else for my sense of self-worth, but I was flattered all the same.  At any rate, my focus is on me… not random  dudes at the club… and besides it wouldn’t work out anyway, after all.  But it feels good to have my faith renewed in possibilities in life in general. Yes, there are men of all persuasions that like “the chocolate.” Something for this almost 30 year old to keep in mind….hmmmm….? ha ha…

 

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2 thoughts on “He’s an Iphone and I’m a Blackberry….

  1. Yeah, because…my SO is Albanian, after all. Never would have imagined that. And I think we need to take care assuming we’re being fetishized. Sometimes we are, and sometimes its a real and earnest preference.

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