“Cough into your sleeve,” I demanded scoldingly.
“What? It’s not like I have the Coronavirus or something.” “You are not taking this seriously!”
He reached for my hand, and I dodged it. He had just coughed into it! “Calm down,” he said.
I was already frustrated with him, and it was becoming increasingly difficult not to show my frustration.
I let him place his arm around my waist, which was protected by my winter coat.
He was so happy-go-lucky on our way to the museum, but I was more than infuriated with his sick behavior amidst the impending pandemic, but also with the fight we got into before our date that night — which was only our second, by the way — and to where we were headed.
When I asked him for the location of our date, he said, “meet me at my apartment,” which for me would’ve been fine if we were further along in the dating process and, more importantly, if I hadn’t just told him I didn’t want to go to his apartment.
Let’s go back to when he asked me out. In short:
Him: Jehan, wanna go out to dinner with me Saturday?
Me: Sure, I get out of work at 4 pm.
Him: Cool, let’s go out to dinner, then to the MoMA.
Me: I would really like that, actually.
Him: You could even come over afterward. I do have to get some work done around 8 pm, but I’ll work at the coffee shop across the street. You can hang out at my place until I get it done, and then we can spend some time together.
Me: Thank you for the invitation, but I think it’s a little too early in our relationship to go to your apartment. I tend to have a lot of work to do too. So when I am ready to go to your apartment, and you have to work, we can always get some work done at the coffee shop together. Having someone to work with in the future actually sounds nice.
Don’t like ads? Become a supporter and enjoy The Good Men Project ad freeHim: Why are you assuming I’m going to try something when you come over? I’m not even like that.
Me: Men always say that.
So imagine my fury when he texted to confirm our date.
Him: Are we still on for 4 pm?
Me: No, I get out of work at 4 pm. I wouldn’t be able to make it to the restaurant until about 4:30 pm, depending on its location. Which restaurant are we going to?
Him: O, just meet me at my apartment.
I texted a screenshot of our conversation to one of my closest friends without context. His response, “why does he keep trying to get you to his apartment?” That’s when I knew I wasn’t overreacting.
After arguing with my date about him pushing me to go to his apartment, which involved a lot of him berating me about assuming he would try to make a move — “I am not trying to get you to come to my apartment! Why do you keep thinking that? I wanted to walk to the restaurant together. You know what? I am not feeling this anymore.”
“Neither am I! I feel like I am not being heard and refuse to date someone who fails to understand what I am saying and refuses to own up to their actions.
This is the second time you had mentioned me going to your apartment when I previously said I don’t want to go there yet!” — we seemed to have come to an understanding. He apologized. “I want you to feel heard, and I want you to feel safe. That’s my job.”
I talked it over with my friend, who was also the manager of the program I worked for.
“Do you really want to date a man who just doesn’t get it?” “Do any men get it? And how many Black lawyers who pick up the phone to call every night as opposed to texting have you met?” I’ll give him another chance.
I got to the restaurant before he did, which added to my annoyance, and as I waited for him outside of the restaurant, I tried to talk myself out of having an attitude the entire dinner. He finally arrived.
“You look like the expressionless emoji,” I said to myself as I was looking in the restaurant window.
You know that emoji with flat eyes and mouth to show you’re irritation.
He took off his black winter coat and hung it on the coat rack next to us, sat down in the chair, placing both elbows on the table with his hands folded into each other, revealing his sexy, sculpted arms and chest muscles through an off-white turtleneck against his beautiful dark skin.
I wondered, was I sure I didn’t want to go to his apartment?
I snapped myself out of that thought. It’s far too early. You haven’t built trust yet.
Aside from him being more physically attractive than I remembered from last time or from what his pictures on his Instagram would demonstrate, the conversation was great, and he seemed to understand me wanting to wait to go to his apartment.
Until…well, toward the end of dinner, he sighed and said, “I checked the MoMa’s website, and we won’t make it there before they close. But I have another idea for a museum we can go to. It’s right around the corner” “Cool, Which one?” “The museum of sex.”
Note: The above events occurred before New York City was locked down and before the CDC issued guidelines to wear masks and social distance.
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This post was previously published on Medium.
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Photo credit: Stephanie McCabe on Unsplash