Because something like this would happen to me

Woooooooow……I’m only hopping back on here because tweeting this story was getting tedious. But woooooow….I can’t believe that this is my life and quite frankly I need to take someone else on this wild ride with me in order to process what I just experienced. For this story to make sense, let’s take a quick trip back to July 2016.

Summer 2016, I made a pact with my cousin to give online dating a chance. We had to try it out for at least a few months and if we actually went on a date with someone, we had to try to give him 3 chances. If you’ve ever dated men, you know that it’s a challenge to tolerate them for 1 date, let alone 3. But your girl was determined to make the most of this and thought “this can’t be so terrible. I know people who’ve met significant others online. This is the wave of the future.”

bless her heart

I know…I know (Credit: RuPaul’s Drag Race)

I won’t bore you with the details of my dating adventures that summer. Most of them were duds. I did meet one, who at first didn’t seem so terrible (SIKE!). We met up for drinks, which turned into dinner, which turned into dancing. After a 6 or 7-hours long first date, I thought, “Wow, they really be out here. Girl, you found the one dude who is smart, funny and doesn’t have trash politics.” The man and I discussed the various waves of feminism over Red Stripe. Come on! If that wasn’t someone “fait sur mesure“, I don’t know what is. Again, as anyone who dates men knows, that shit went left real quick. Since I’m not trying to get sued, I won’t share details about this person but chile…..this man had 99 problems and then some. But did I listen to all of my internal cues and run as far away as possible?

send me a sign

And when it definitely did not work out romantically (because duh), I thought “you know what? We should be friends!”

why do I do this

So here I am, 2 years later, “friends” with this person. Now there are many more connections as we have a few mutual friends, shared experiences etc…And a naive part of me wanted to believe that him and I were friends. But as my twitter followers know, I had been grappling with whether or not I wanted to remain friends with this person. As I examined my friendships, I realized that this person took much more than they gave and even in the context of friendship, they were still TRASH. After some consideration, I decided to ghost this friendship, having made sure that I had nothing left to feel guilty about or say.

And now that you’re kind of caught up (honestly this story involves a different country, a bet because of Jesus (try figuring that one out) and so much more), let’s talk about Sunday, June 10th in the year of our Lord, 2018.

picture it sicily

(Credit: The Golden Girls)

My new friend had made plans to bring her new friend to my apartment for some leisure pool time. To avoid confusion, let’s call my new friend G. and her new friend C. We start by admiring and commenting on the omnipresence of Black people in Atlanta and end up talking about problematic Black men. As G and C are talking about how some men have terrible politics (in this context, men who buy into misogyny or homophobia, for example) , I acquiesce and say “Even when their politics aren’t trash, they’re emotionally unavailable.” C agrees and says something along the lines of “I was just talking about this to my Haitian friend. She knows this guy who is really smart and has good politics, but is emotionally unavailable.” Most people would have shaken their heads and said “I hear that.” But because my life is what it is, here’s what happened next:

I say, jokingly and nonchalantly: Sounds like me and your friend know the same guy, lol. 

C chuckles and says: Hahaha,right? No, this guy is in New York. 

Perplexed, I respond: Actually, so is the one I was thinking of. Or at least he was.

C starts looking a little worried and jokingly says: Harlem?

I gulp: Yep

C responds: Was he [insert occupation] at [insert location]?

At this point, I’ve realized the universe is fucking with me because the person I was thinking about was absolutely a [insert occupation] at [insert location].

C starts freaking out and also thinks it might be the same person. And then she tells me what her friend is studying and I know, right then and there, that this is indeed the same person. I give C the guy’s name and she texts her friend. No response.


After what feels like an eternity, C’s friend responds with “Lol. why? What’s up?


Now I would just like to pause here and note that there are millions of people in New York and probably millions of emotionally unavailable men. Also, I did not meet this person in New York. All of this to say that it did not have to go down like that.

So we call C’s friend.

“Excuse me can I please talk to you for a minute?
Uh huh sure, you know you look kinda familiar
Yeah you do to, but I just wanted to know do you know somebody named?
You know his name
Oh yeah definitely I know his name” (
LyricsThe Boy is Mine)


Ok, it didn’t quite go down like that but close. Her and I exchange notes and turns out this person is out here having the most formulaic interactions with Black women. Homie is out here finding women of the African diaspora (both sis and I are Haitian), highly educated (sis just finished up the first year of her PhD, I’m starting mine in the fall), and prone to wanting to fix people (self drag), to unpack his emotional scars. I had a theory that he didn’t actually value Black women as people. I think that he is a person who claims to see Black women’s personhood but actually uses them as tools to facilitate his healing and seek atonement for/from his past (whatever that might be). Sis was a little more blunt in her assessment (I want to write what she said but there’s a part of me that realizes that it doesn’t need to repeated on the internet. Darn you morals).

While I would like to say that “this is a prime example of why dating sucks”, that would be too easy. This is a prime example of “you played yourself.” As much as I don’t want to admit it, I’ve known this about this person. For years now. I’ve seen the red flags. I just wasn’t ready to let them go. I thought there were so many redeeming things about them and I wanted to believe that they really cared about me. Whether as a friend or more than a friend. Because I really cared about them. And maybe, because deep down, I still had feelings for them *Cringe*. I mean…a few months ago, I was fighting back tears on the A train because I realized that I could no longer ignore the truth of my relationship with this person.


Anyways, after 30 minutes of dragging this person (and me), sis ends the conversation by telling C that she recently published an article and that she will send the link. C says that she will share it with me. Turns out I read the article some time last week (because again, this is how my life works now) and…


P.S.: I kind of missed this. Maybe I should consider coming back to this as a distraction, once I start school next year. Maybe…

P.P.S.: I’m fine. It’s fine. But also, woooooow…..the world is too darn small.

1000 Reasons Why I’m Single: Reason 2

Would you look at that? I decided not to wait another 234329348 months before posting again. I just had to tell y’all what had happened (yes, I am aware that was improper English but I say “what had happened…” all the time so let me flourish!). I was going to tell y’all about this last week but I really needed time to process, because this was some next level BS.



Yeah, remember how I told y’all about my date with “Mr. Steal Your Leftovers” (sung to the tune of  “It’s Mr. Steal Yo Girl”- Trey Songz)? So…apparently, I still hadn’t scrapped the bottom of the barrel when it comes to “no good” dudes. So if you want to feel better about your life, please stay tuned.



Y’ALL! I don’t even know where to begin with recounting this tomfoolery. To this day, I am still completely and utterly baffled that someone can be this LOCO. Either this man needs treatment for his undiagnosed schizophrenia or delusional disorder (I swear I only use my psych degree when it comes to dating. Le sigh!), OR he deserves a medal for being so bold in his lies. Let’s go back to the beginning, shall we?


A few weeks ago, I decided to not be lame and go be a 20-something year old…Actually let’s fast forward a bit. Y’all don’t need to hear about my thought process and the agony of choosing between “wash day” and “da club”, as I refer to it.

So, I’m at da club with friends when 1 of them points to these gentlemen in the corner. I’m being awkward and am glued to my phone but quickly glance in their direction. I’m thinking, “they’re definitely handsome but I’m definitely NOT bold enough to talk to them”. My friend Bohemien [sic] Debutante is a different story. She will befriend a brick wall and that brick wall WILL fall in love with her. She finagles her way to where they’re standing and out of nowhere we all strike up a conversation. I hear a Francophone accent so I ask them where they’re from. They respond: “Belgium”. They ask me if I speak French, I answer yes and from that point on, we just gelled. Somehow I end up talking to one of these gentlemen until 4:30AM.

We swap stories about our lives, what we do etc…I tell him what I do. And this is sort of when things start to go downhill.

He tells me that he’s a PhD student in computer science at Georgia Tech and that before that he was living in the Los Angeles area. He was working for Microsoft in LA and before that he lived in London, where he got an MBA. Prior to London, he lived in Finland and worked for Nokia. And before that, he did a Bac S (those of you familiar with the French system will know what that means) and obtained a perfect score.

“That sounds great girl!”

“I don’t see what the problem is. You’re just looking for a red flag”

“See! you can still meet decent men in these streets”



Observation #1: Homie was sounding MIGHTY accomplished for someone who claims to be 28. Is it impossible? No. Is it improbable? YES!

So either homie is LYIN’ about his accomplishments or he’s 55. Now, Black don’t crack but it might be a little hard to try to pass off for 28 as a 55 year-old.

Observation #2: Homie was real aggressive with trying to “get some” (avert your eyes mother). No matter how many times I re-iterated that “he ain’t getting none”, he kept trying.

Maybe homie thought that if he was more impressive than I’d be more willing to revisit my decision.

Anyways, we eventually part ways for the night (well I guess morning by that point). I’m real skeptical of his stories but I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. I mean…it’s totally possible that on top of all that, he’s a great songwriter and recently sold a song to Anthony Hamilton, that may or may not make it unto the next album. Right?!?!?! Because why would someone come up with such an elaborate lie?

Exactly Jon! Exactly!

Exactly Jon! Exactly!

Now, I wish I could tell you that this was the end of it. But nope. It gets worse (or better for entertainment purposes).


Despite my reservations, my friend convinces me to keep talking to him.

Sunday – We talk and for the most part he seems legit. He tells me he went to church, made lunch and is doing homework. See girl, you were too quick to think the worst. 

Monday, during the day – We text back and forth. I google him (Yes I did and I am not even a little bit ashamed to admit this). Nothing comes up. I try alternative spellings. Still nothing. I check the GaTech directory. Nada. This is definitely strange. My friend tells me that he’s a computer science student and could have possibly deleted his online presence. I don’t really buy it.

Monday night – Me: “So what are your thoughts on social media? For, against, indifferent?” Him: “I don’t do social media. I deleted all traces of me from the internet”. Me (in my head): “That’s real convenient” but what I actually say, “Interesting. I guess I know a few people who feel really strongly about not being on social media as well”

At this point, I just want to scream: “Imma need you to stop f%^$#*&’ lying bruh. Confess now and I probably still won’t talk to you, but don’t drag this out“. But he didn’t so the saga continues.

Tuesday night – Him: “I spent my day TA-ing 2 classes and reviewing my colleagues work on computational modeling”. Now most people would have thought, “oh, he really is a PhD student”. Unfortunately, I’m not most people so I asked him questions about the classes he’s teaching and his modeling (he probably didn’t realize that part of an epidemiology degree is learning how to create models. Sike sucka!). He fumbles, doesn’t really answer and changes the subject. He was really good at diversions. Most of the time, I would make a mental note but let him believe that he succeeded. At this point, I was in too deep. I had to figure out WHY he was lying.

Wednesday – Time to gather evidence. It’s one thing to think that his story about being offered a scholarship to play basketball is bullshit, it’s another to catch him in his lies. I ask a few confirmed GaTech students to look him up in the online directory. They have access to detailed information because they’re students at the institution. What do you think they found?

Wednesday night – I’m still bidding my time and seeing what lies he’ll tell next. Somehow we start talking about past relationships. And ladies and gents, here’s the kicker! At this point, his stories were still batshit crazy relatively harmless until this very moment:

-“My last relationship didn’t really end. She died.”

-“I’m sorry. Do you mind me asking what happened?” (because clearly I thought what we are all thinking at this point. He might have had something to do with it)

-“She had cancer. I knew she was sick when we got together but I was going to be brave and face this with her. Ultimately, she got really sick and passed”

Me at first

Me at first

Then I had to go 'head and sip my tea

Then I had to go ‘head and sip my tea


Do you know how low that is? And obviously I can’t be the asshole who questions him on it. Who says: “I don’t believe you. Prove that your gf died of cancer“?

At this point, I’ve had enough. There are way too many lies and I need concrete proof that homie is lyin’ through his teeth. We have a date on Friday and I’m definitely not finna go on no date with a murderer/pathological liar etc…

Thursday – Remember those people I had check out his story about being a PhD student at GaTech? Well if you guessed that they came back and told me that there’s no record of anyone by that name then DING DING!

Now, I’m a scientist so I did my due diligence. I checked other schools in the area. Zilch.

Any record of anyone by that name at various business schools in London? Nope

That engineering consulting firm he “founded”? It exists but the information doesn’t add up. His name is nowhere to be found on any of the websites, it’s not a London-based company and Nokia didn’t buy it.

Friday (D-day) – I finally have concrete evidence that doesn’t make me sound like a creep/stalker, albeit with great detective skills. At this point, he’s texting or calling frequently. He even let slip that he’d wait 3 weeks to ask me to be his gf. DAFUQ homie?!?!? I’m clearly gathering evidence to catch you trifflin’, lyin’ ass. Ain’t nobody tryna be with you? I casually text him: “Hey, totally slipped my mind. Do you go by your middle name at school? I was hanging out with some GaTech friends (some of which are in the computer science program too) and I was so excited to tell them about you. They had never heard of you though. Weird, right??!?”

Now, it may seem like I’m giving him an out with the middle name thing, but we’d discussed ad nauseam the fact that he doesn’t have any middle names.

That's right MOFO!

That’s right MOFO!

Y’all wanna guess what happened next?


But for real ladies, this is why you should ask questions. Google is your friend. Also, Liam Neeson ain’t got nothin’ on me!