A rollercoster of a story about me and the only tall white girl I ever knew who liked being cat called in the most historic African American neighborhood in the US (Harlem-NYC).

Have some fun trying to think about all the different nickname’s people had for her up on 135th and Malcom X BLVD.

This is going to be one of those – “years later it still won’t make any sense” stories.

Let’s first set the scene. Back in the days when words mattered and people used to like having conversations to get to know each other life was good for me.

During a Thursday happy hour near Union Square New York, NY – I’m out with some clients and co-workers enjoying myself. It’ s my turn to get the drinks. Approaching the bar the round, a tall, athletic, and well put together woman cuts in front of me and snags the 1 open spot (everyone not sitting) ordered from. I smile at her, and she makes the comment. “I saw you going for this spot, so I knew I had to beat you to it – followed by a playful ‘I’m just Joshing you’ tap on my chest.

Without even thinking about it I reply “it’s okay Sunshine, hope you are enjoying the East Coast” – Which shocks her a bit. I was totally guessing she was from the West Coast – merely based on looks. I figured it was safe to assume because I only have heard people West of the Mississippi say “I’m just Joshing you”

But we smile at each other and pause for a moment. Then I say “ok ok grab your drinks I need to go back to being fake nice to my co-workers and clients.” To which she laughed and said she was doing the same thing.

When I get back to with the drinks a couple of the people I was with starting busting my chops asking what I was saying to the beautiful woman at the bar. Well that actually proved to be a good thing because one of the female clients I was with {mid 40s, typical vibe mom look } said – “we’re totally going to your ‘competitor’ if you don’t’ get that girl’s number” – I’ll totally wing-women for you”. Turns out my client was super cool and funny outside the office.

So a drink later followed by a very akward person by person shift over to the area “California-Sunshine” was hanging out.

Long story short peer pressure made it happen, I was able to exchange numbers with her.

Over the following weeks of getting to know this Cali Cutie – she told me her clients were also acting the same way as mine.
IDK – how sure how true that was, but it was a cute story and we chaulked it up to not many people tall and with natural light color hair in NYC. It’s was nice to think we stood out together.

The first couple weeks are awesome.

While we both have busy schedules that sometimes don’t algin well. We are equally making an effort to see one another twice a week.

Chemistry is smooth and a near perfect conversational flow to it. As I got to know her better it turns out she’s a little quirky and weird like me but with so many layers of depth woven in-between.

The motto we joked about was “it’s a time and a place in how we act.”

For those waiting for me to address the bro stuff.

The sex was legit! The perfect mix of everything you want. Sometime random in timing and location, hot n’ wild when it made sense, and slow and romantic when we wanted to enjoy the moment.

With the first three and a half weeks in the books (I’ll pause so you can laugh) I even invite her to my mom’s house for Easter dinner. Normally I’m not bring something so fresh into the Lion’s den but the flow of things made sense. And she F—ing nailed it. At the time happiest I’ve seen my Mother since the better family times as one happy family. 

Even my middle brother made a comment that he was impressed. The wild thing about that was him and I just looked at each other and said. We got the dishes under control. Coffee/Tea & Polish Cheesecake in 15 minutes – go for a walk and kill some time.

Where is this story going?  Well this is my life of crumbs, right? Let’s get into it.

A bit of her story, mind you – while some things might be subjected red flags. The explanations and quickly developing trust I had with this woman made it all make sense.

I’ll break it down.

5’8’’ very attractive blonde from California wine country, great sense of humor, upbeat personality and came across has a genuine person from the start.

Oddities and quirks uncovered from the start but I was okay with:

• living on 135^th & Malcom X BLVD in Harlem
• Still considered herself an artist (I’ll explain in a bit)
• Unclear why she moved to NYC from Cali

Over time a few other things bubbled up, for example:

• Food? I never saw her eat – saw her drink bourbon like it was going out of style but actual food… not so much
• Anything work or career related  tossed in her art work and make it clear and known to all anything else was not something that defined her.

Other random things, not directly related to the story but interesting – while adding some context – nonetheless.

• Had a cat that would jump up 6+ feet onto everything her apartment, and walked on the 20 story balcony ledge like it was nothing
• Real estate (agent) was her primary source of income
• Her art was post modern industrial paintings and murals made with synthetic paints that were mixed with industrial chemicals that added a unique layer and blend of visual aesthetics to her work <she had talent, and it was different – I’ll say that>

Where it all went Wrong

In the best way possible the majority of our meetings are nights and weekends because we both work a general weekday 9-ish to 5/6ish schedule. That means a lot of our meet ups are for happy hour drinks and night-time plans after 8pm.

At the time I’m a bit impressed that, unlike the majority of women today, our plans never focus on dinner or going out to eat. Personally, I’m not one for going out to eat; I do that plenty in my professional career.

Couple with that the fact eating and talking is a bit of an awkward experience. Early on in dating it’s a bit clunky and wishy-washy. You both are trying the figure each other out, why complicate this even more with another variable. The cherry on top of that (at the time) was – during the previous 3 months of dating I mistimed jokes so funny comments and had to rescue two girls from choking. One of which I didn’t know and thought she was messing with me figure the nature of the conversation – when it occurred.

Yeah! Nothing kills momentum quicker than making fun of someone when they are <kinda> dying

 But… we all need to eat and as things start to progress I notice that food is never a part of the plan or conversation. There’s a ton of alcohol but in the back of my mind I’m thinking “does she ever eat”.

• The two times I meet her immediately after work I brought food and it never got eaten.

So, two months into dating we get into our 1^st minor disagreement. I did a trip with a few friends and caught a cold when I came back. We didn’t see each other for a few days then she told me to wait a few more days because she can’t get sick. I understood but didn’t think the 10 day pause was necessary.

To her credit she says she wants to plan something special when we meet up next and invites me to stay the weekend at her place. When that time came she lays out the plan for the weekend:

• Friday – get there anytime after 8pm but not too late (Netflix & Chill night)
  *Bring your bike*
• Saturday – bike down the West Side Highway to the ‘Frying Pan’ (about 5.5 miles), have a boozy brunch on the water. Go back up, then freshen up for a cool rooftop party at Galloway Green in Chelsea
• Sunday – TBD but sleep late and spend time outside.

Solid plan and I’m impressed.

Day of I ride my mountain to her place and she’s in a bad mood about a few deals not going through and work hassling her a bit. Other an that we drink bourbon and have some fun. Tension relieved on both sides.

Next day, she gets hassled a bit by her building bc I took my bike up in the elevator and that wasn’t allowed. I told the front desk guy wasn’t the type of bike I could put in the garage or outside locked up. All her side at the time was he had to document that.

While that bothers her a bit she understood where I was coming from and I don’t’ think anything of it. We get her bike and I’m laughing a bit because it’s a vintage California Cruiser crica 1980’s (super heavy but very comfortable to ride)
We start our journey… I know that my bike a light and fast so I ask her if she wants to swap bikes when we get on the Westside HH bike path because it’s a faster pace route and it gets narrow in a few paths (especially in midtown when it merges with the walking path). At first -NO but when I notice she’s going slower than whale (💩) I push the issue and we switch bikes.

The slow pace continues but we make our way down there.

When we get to the bar I’m starving because we didn’t have breakfast. She said she ate something when I was in the shower and we order drinks to start things off.

Fast forward 3 to 4 hours later. Good times had by all but I’m thinking to myself. This girl drank 4 double bourbon drinks and ate 4 bites of a salad – how is she functional?

Well she wasn’t really.

I tell her to get on her bike because it’s safer and if we get separated in the midtown high traffic area I’ll stop and wait for her.

As we proceed it’s pretty crowded on the path. Weekend, midday – the start of Spring – everyone is out. We get to the midtown area and I’m a little frustrated with the pace of travel. I jump over a small barrier into a contraction zone and ‘off road’ for a few seconds to get ahead of the clutter of people jamming up bikes on the path. Not that I was doing anything special but bunny-hopping a short concrete barrier while riding a flashy bike got some attention so I do a little BMX style trick and hop over another barrier back onto the path. While this is going on my girl stops paying attention to the road ahead (looking at me) and has a very minor crash into other bikes that had to stop because of tourist foot traffic.
From about 75 feet away I see this of stop.
I call out asking if she is okay and just see her looking really mad – jumping back on her bike and racing towards me. She starts yelling and pointing at me, visibly angry – all while swerving all over the road – likely because she was drunk from lunch with no food.

As I’m standing there waiting for my verbal tongue lashing – my girlfriend rides up next to a chain link fence. She gets about 10 feet from me when she decides to yell and gesture at me again with her arm.
Well … in doing so she swerves towards the fence and catches she handlebar in one of the open links. Total wipeout, this time dismounted from her bike and bleeding from her knees.
I rush over and get the look of death from her.

Apparently it’s all my fault. To which I respond “how?” and she starts ranting about me causing a chain reaction which made her crash into the other bikes.

I respond “how is that my fault…” only to get cut off by her cutting in with “and the fact or then make me do this <pointing to her cuts and bruises>”

I know when to pick and choose my battles but I just say “listen whatever happened initially has nothing to do with you crashing against that fence”

Silence after that and she gets on her bike again and rides off.

I follow and the pace back is even slower than before and I say half way through – “please let me get us a cab or let’s just walk the bikes to the subway” she only tells me I’m an a-hole and it’s a tension filled journey back.

Back at her place more bursts of rage, this time talking back how she can ‘t show any apartments the next day because of the minor cuts and bruises to her legs. That doesn’t make any sense to me and I push back with “while very attractive I hope you’re legs aren’t what sells the apartments. That just gets a minor pause and process from her. I quickly follow up with the caring boyfriend speech and say I’ll go to the pharmacy and get her all the stuff to fix her injury.

She just tells me to stop trying to help and that I need to get ready from the open bar roof top party. I’m thinking <WTF???> you have been flipping out on me saying I ruined your life from this minor accident and you want to go drink more because you don’t want the tickets to go to waste.

I just roll with it and hope/assume that’s her way of trying to get past this odd mess.

We get ready, she tells me to order a cab because she’s not walking with her legs looking ‘all beat up’.

I comply and hope that things will loosen up a bit.

Upon getting there it’s no better and I’m just getting the silent treatment most of the night. She comments to me towards the end of the evening this not how she imagined her Saturday going while mentioning the $60 cost of each ticket. $80 of RT taxi services later we are back at her please and she says she just wants to go to bed. I’m sitting there starving and it’s 11 o’clock PM. All day I had a burger + fries for lunch and a few passed hors d’oeuvres at the open bar things. I’m amazed by the fact my GF had only a few bites of salad (as far as I know). I suck it up and force myself to go to bed with her fully knowing it will be a cold bed between us all night.

6am or whenever the first light of the day shined I wake up – but in one of those odd ways where you still have your eyes closed but you fundamentally awake.

<oh also I forgot to mention she’s didn’t own any curtains or drapes so if it was daylight outside, it was the same inside>

As I’m laying there fully knowing it’s super early, I get the feeling that someone is staring at me with dark clouds over them. Sure enough – I open my eyes and there’s my GF sitting up in bed arms crossed not looking happy.

Then the words no one wants to here “WE NEED TO TALK”

Ughs…

It’s Sunday morning, like 6:45am-ish and I’m half awake. I know what’s about to happen and I’m just exhausted from getting barked at the past 24 hours. Based upon how great the past two months have been I am thinking to myself ‘wake up an fight for this, it’s been pretty good…’

Then just as I’m about to say something she says – …”and another thing I DEMAND TO BE COMPENSATED FOR MY INJURIES”…

Wait… What!?

She starts going into how much the injury from yesterday will likely cost her and straight asks me for $600.

My 1^st thought was – yeah this is definitely over. Then my verbal response is “yeah yeah I’ll mail you a check”

I go to leave and she says she’s going to follow me to an ATM bc she wants it immediately. I’m shocked that this is the same person I’ve been dealing with the past two months and how anyone could even come up with a rationale for that amount of money from the situation that happened. Then to add additional insult to injury she starts selling me on how it’s really not that much given the open bar tickets from last night and a cab ride she paid for two weeks prior.

I say “do you want me to start adding up all the things I’ve paid for…”, her replies (as we are exiting her building out on the street now) is to belittle me saying “what? You can’t afford it – I thought you were a man…”

A back and forth ensues and she’s still following me expecting money.

I can only imagine this from a outsider point of view the scene.
Two white late 20 somethings walking down 125^th street in Harlem passing by proper well-mannered African American families dressed up in their Sunday best and walking to church.
– there goes the neighborhood –

How the ___show ends

I’m now officially awake now and not happy with any part of the situation. I know I can just get on my bike and ride off into the sunrise but that’s too ease and {for some reason} I think I can have the last laugh. We start walking by ATM machines and various banks and she’s trying to tell me to stop and get her the money.
I’m silent the whole time then calmly say to her “what makes you think you’re in control of this situation? I’ll make sure we are when I see my bank”
Another few minutes of walking and I see one of my ATM and point telling her to wait outside. I take out the money for the open bar ticket she got for me, then add a dollar to that thinking it will be symbolic – I know dumb and makes no sense looking back at it.

I put $60+1 in a deposit envelop available next to the machine (making sure she sees me) seal it up and walk outside. She’s about to say her final words when I just throw the envelop at her, say “try to eat something before your next bottle of bourbon” and jump on my bike riding away. 10 seconds later. I hear in the distance her flipping the F out about the money as I turn around to give one last look.

I pause for a second then I take my phone out to block her number.

xoxo No joy or worthwhile takeaways from this mess of a break-up story. Still makes me sad but I tell myself it likely would have turned ugly as some other point further down