I've gone over and over in my mind on whether to write this or leave this experience to the mercy of my memory. I guess I'm not too trusting of my memory. I also haven't written a blog for some time, and not in this particular fashion in a very long time so naturally my writing is rusty-at best. Its also difficult to try to think lately, as I have spent so much time on auto-pilot (you know when you can walk around and exist to others, but really you're just a shell of your old self). I guess I am diving back in and taking hold of my old writing self and reflect some new things about me too! I want this blog to be reminiscent of my new, New York life-including work, love, and whatever else there is besides those two things. So I am going to try to write and recall as much as I can here and I hope its worth reading.
Now some background info. I moved to Queens, more specifically Jamaica, New York for a job at a prestigious private and religious institution. We will see how that works, but I digress. So, I live on-campus in an apartment (I would never have chosen the location, but when it's free, you smile and take it with poise and grace and be thankful for not paying NY rent). There isn't much here in the way of Queens, seeing as its where real New Yorkers, better known as Manhattanites, think "regular" people live. Sadly, they are right..I'm just sad that I am one of the "regulars" now. It also does not help that every person I know in New York (3 females and by "know" I mean I have familiarity with 2 of 'em) live in Brooklyn--apparently the place to live if you're an educated black person--I didn't get that memo. Anyway...
I want this blog to also serve as a record of my "New York Firsts" as my dear, former New-Yorker, friend has encouraged me to consider. And so now, my first first.I have been in the great borough of Queens for approximately two weeks now. Well 13 days to be exact. I have already had to see a doctor, met one of NYPD's finest-a cop, and survived about 5 mental breakdowns. Only one of those is a first though, and that is my cop.
The tepid details of how I met this cop are not important and I will leave them to your imagination. And so it began, I got off work early one day and he picked me up. Seeing since it was his first time in this area (interesting right?) I showed him the campus and naturally, my apartment. It was a nice time, he was cute, and I was thinking, "Oh THANK GOD, I've befriended a male New Yorker and a cop and a single man all rolled into one!" I was thinking that I had hit the jackpot. The man is nice, respectful and a former army man, y'all know that's bonus points in my book. What could go wrong with this? I was thinking its just a match made in heaven. Then a couple bombs drop.........
After some relatively deep and personal information surfaces, we move into the intense and sometimes melodramatic discussion of the number of partners we have both had (some argue this may not be appropriate, but I argue I have to read the risks before I even THINK about taking a healthy dose of some love-medicine!) So, we discuss what we are looking for and then the numbers question just blew up in my face. I thought I would be bold and just put it out there, thinking I am an adult and so is he... until I hear that number; HIS number..........
Sorry, for that space... I still can't believe it. I had a hard time typing it.. so imagine what I felt like hearing it and then trying to control my facial expression, at which I failed miserably. He looked so calm and confident when he said it too and that made it even more shocking to me. After 5 seconds though, I regrouped and said, "Um, Excuse me? Did you say EIGHT-TEEN or EIGHTY?" Yeah, I asked him that..lol
This fine, he-might-be-touting-a-disease-or-two- young man said "80..I know a lot of people that are in the hundreds." I just smiled politely and tried to keep from panting as my initial attraction to him died a slow death. I quickly turned the subject elsewhere and as fast as I had known it was going to be a great match, I knew it was a great "First" and an even better "Only" experience. So much for NYPD.
If 80 is going to be a standard in this town, I better go on up to the Monastery of this school and pick up my habit, wimple and veil for the sake of 81. Oh the best part is.. he has a kid too. Great.
I <3 NY.