I’ve got to be straight with you. Before I married my husband I dated mostly black guys. MOSTLY, but on a couple occasions early on–first in middle school and then in high school–two non-black guys stick out in my mind: David, white (short, cute, crystal blue eyes and teeth like Mr. Ed) and uhm…”Renaldo” (a hot jalepeno of a Latino).
David used to follow me home from school like a little lost pony. It was embarrassing. Back in the ackward, pimply, middle school days (talkin’ bout me, not him), this guy was crazy about me. He begged me for two whole weeks to be his girlfriend. I have to admit I was flattered. So I did what any self-respecting middle schooler would do–I was his girlfriend for 48 hours and then dumped him during lunch period. I did it mostly because of pressure. All my friends teased me. Davey The Horse was shorter, teethier, and ‘clear’.
But RENALDO! I felt freeer somehow. He was a minority, I was a minority, and dammit, we were going to take on The Man with guns blazing and french kissing by the lockers until Chapstick looked to us for sponsorship opportunities. One lip balm at a time, we were going to take over the universe!
Fast forward eherumhrrhrrrhum years and Renaldo, who dumped me for another girl who sweated Aqua Net) is fat and Davey the Horse became Davey the fine-ass-guy-what-was-I-thinking ex, and Renaldo, once hot and oh-my-gawd-just-say-my-name-one-more-time-in-Spanish to fat and working at McDonald’s.
I often wonder why I felt so comfortable doing shameless PDA with the Latino, but bent under peer pressure with equine boy.
I have a theory. Somehow…dating a minority is just…easier.