can you TOP THAT?!

I bet some of you are wondering about the status of the Photographer/The Giver. Despite my word vomit and awkwardness, it seems this fellow is still feeling the blacktress. I have been reluctant to go into detail because he may still be reading the blog, and I don’t want him knowing all of Sojourner’s truths just yet. However, I feel the need to share this relationship’s progress as it works toward becoming a REALationship (you know the difference—holla!)

So, last Friday was a low key night, where we attended an art opening that I’d be invited to through work. I thought that the event’s open bar and hip downtown artists would show him how important and with-it I am. Plus, being a photographer, I thought he’d be all into the art scene.

For moral support, I asked my homegirl Karisa to show up an hour earlier.

“SoTru, why would you show up an hour early for a date?” You may be wondering. I know this seems strange. However, I find an early arrival decreases later awkwardness. By scoping out the area before my date, I am able to check my face to see if there were any issues while in transit, make note of all the nearest exits (in case he turns out to be cray), and know where things are to make it seem like I come to said establishment regularly. When my date arrives and I am already waiting, I have what I like to call “the upper hand,” as he wonders if he’s late and tries to placate me with compliments.

Anyway, after checking out some art and having some free dranks, we headed back to the BK to kick it old school. We had a college-style date—you know, sitting in a room and watching a movie. While many of my lady friends wondered why I wouldn’t demand lobster tails and a Broadway show, I stand by my choice of a low key date. First of all, such interactions are the main reason I look for a winter spoon; it’s too damn cold to be hittin’ the streets! Point number two: Do not wine me and dine me just to end up lyin’ to me! I don’t need all the bells and whistles and distraction—let me see what YOU are about, you know? How many times have I giggled and cooed in a tipsy state as a man said things that were clearly red flags? For instance, when I'm at the club and he goes:

I’ve always wanted to kiss a black girl. (WARNING: You have a fetishizer on your hands!)
OR
Oh my god, you’re, like, actually funny. That’s so rare. (Reverse compliments mean you are with a level-one emotional abuser. Back away).

With simply a bottle of Cabernet and X-Men 2 on the boob tube, I could really get to the root of this photog—go “behind the lens” if you will (will you?).

After getting all hot and bothered by the sight of sweaty, bulging Hugh Jackman—aka HUGE JACKED MAN!—I had to assess my desires…and the Giver’s. Was he a slut? A ho? A freak? Did he have a different girl every day of the week?
I told him it was cool, I’m not trying to put a rush on you—but I gotta let you know that I got a crush on you.

After wondering why I was quoting Lil’ Kim, he responded in kind, and I think we reached an understanding. Being deep in the BK after midnight, the logical choice was to spend the night…right? After physically expressing our emotions, we had a little pillow talk. We started talking about movies, and somehow the film Teen Witch came up.

Again, this would be a prime example of my awkwardness and word vomit. I don’t know if any of you have seen it, but Teen Witch is a 1989 classic about a girl who discovers she is a witch on her 16th birthday. Mousy Louise then uses her new powers to make herself hot, popular, and win the man of her dreams, only to realize, she doesn’t need magic after all.

Oh, did I mention it’s sort of a musical with songs such as “I like Boys,” and “I Wanna Be the Most Popular Girl”?

Yes, it IS the greatest film of our time.

But I wouldn’t necessarily recommend sharing this information with a man in his bed….unless he’s REALLY AWESOME (like the Photographer)—or gay (like my besties). One mention of the film, and the photog begins the first few lines of the film’s best track: “Top That.” It’s a great rap in which Louise’s equally mousy friend Polly is magically given the gift of street cred and approaches her far-off crush (Rhett Cappalletti) in fierce urban poetry.

Wait, I don’t think my description is doing the scene justice. See for yourself.

AAAHHH!!!! HOW GOOD IS THIS?!?!?!?!?! CAN YOU TOP THAT?????????
I find myself to be as awkward as Polly, and I guess you could call the Photographer my Rhett Cappelletti--only without the tight stonewashed jeans. But they both have the same street flava.

As you can imagine, the Photog’s knowledge of this great film and its music sparked much delight in the heart of the blacktress. As I fought the urge to propose marriage on the spot, he told me it was “quiet time” as I squealed with excitement at 3 am. Of course, his pop culture knowledge coupled with his no-nonsense manliness only fanned the love fires.

In honor of the role of musical films in our lives, he and I are going to see Sweeney Todd tonight.

And then I’m going to come home and Photoshop our heads together to see what our offspring will look like.

JK (Rowling)!!!!

Or am I???????