You can take your dating, and shove it.

Dear dating-

Fuck. You.

Yeah, I said it. This is a whole bunch of bullshit. I'm calling bullshit on the whole thing.

I don't wanna do it. I hate the audition of it. Asking the umpteenth person where they're from. What they like to do. Oh- and fall into the female archetypes expected on a date.

Listen, if we're going to eat, then I'm gonna actually eat. And by eat, I mean order more than I should, and never finish it. I'll still want dessert too. No, I don't expect you to pay for all of it either. So calm your roll there, buster.

I also like to have a drink or two. Wine, beer, gin and tonics. Okay, okay- margaritas too. That's beside the point. I'm not dainty, I'm not classy. I'm not gonna giggle at your jokes if I don't find them funny. I will absolutely laugh at mine- because I know I'm hilarious.

I know what I want, and I don't want to do this dance. This may be coming across as bitter, and I'm gonna be all kinds of honest- I don't really care.

I'm a catch, who wants a family someday and someone who isn't gonna get bent when I want to eat in bed. Or constantly be in bed. Or not wear pants. It's a thing. What else can I tell you? I'm queer, identify as she, I'm black, I'm smart, done a lot of randomness, travelled... uhhhh. I'm sure there's more. Just ask. P.s.-  I don't necessarily want all of these things with you, or tomorrow. I want to take my time, and sort it out.

Let's just get the awkwardness out of the way, see if we like and want the same things. Then let's hang out and see if we can tolerate the way the other person squeezes the toothpaste. Or chews their food. Or if we are compatible big and little spoons. Priorities people, priorities. My top love languages are acts of service, quality time, and communication. I seem to fall for people who's top language is touch, which I'm not mad at. I'm a damn good cuddler.

Also! If we have sex early on, no judgement. I want to know if I want to drive the car. Buy the car? Whatever the turn of phrase is. You know what the hell I mean. I have a healthy sex drive... as I damn well should. You should too. Or you know, shuffle off with someone who doesn't.

What's the point of my rambling today? There isn't. I don't even think this is my first blog about this. I just didn't feel like deep diving into my old writings to see if I was repeating myself. Who cares anyway?

Ah well, we will see what happens. And by we, I mean me and whoever decides this silly rant is worth a read.

Cheers to whoever the person is I end up with, who reads this back to me one day and says, "So that's why you jumped me the first night, and looked at my toothpaste?"

Damn fucking right.