Cardinal Rules: No Around the Way Boys

It was one of those nights when I was up to no good. I was headed to someones house I had no business heading to when I passed a guy on the street. Now, said person who's house I had no business visiting after 11pm on a Wednesday lived nearby, so I was in my own hood. I passed a random man on the street, we exchanged a glance, nothing major. The regular quick check out, and while our eyes met for a moment too long (usually the window opener), neither of us stopped. I kept going towards my destination when the voices in my head-we'll call them a conscience so y'all don't think I'm schizo over here-started ticking off the reasons I had no business going where I was going.

This is a bad idea, Blackie. Remember that sabbatical you're supposed to be on? Remember that promise you made after your last jaunt? This will not do anything but satiate you physically. What about your emotions, don't you miss feelings?

Did I mention how much I hate being a girl?

Fine, Blackie. Let's be real. He's messy. He's saved in your phone as Don't Do It! You're inviting drama to your doorstep.

By this point, I was standing outside his building, hand hovering over the buzzer. As if on cue, my phone vibrated: "Hey, where you@? Still coming?"

Moment of truth. Conscience shouting it's disapproval. I typed out the letters quickly: "Emergency @ work. Will be an early one. Just gonna go home." I turned on my heel and headed back the way I came, a bittersweet feeling that combined approval (for leaving/abstaining) and pissed off-ness (for leaving/abstaining).

I was crossing the street, reminding myself of why this so called sabbatical was apart of my so called life, when I crossed paths with the same man on virtually the same part of the street as before.

"Now we have to speak," he said. He had a drop it low (low) voice and a pair of hazel eyes. He was older with sprinklings of Idris Elba gray hair. Salt and pepper. Distinguished. A far cry from the youngins' game of dress up.

"I guess we do," I replied. We walked to the opposing corner, my corner, and talked for five or ten minutes. He was an actor turned producer, had a brownstone here and a loft in Studio City. He was in town for a film festival, might stay for a bit, he loved Manhattan this time of year.

He was a nice guy, attractive and when he asked for my information, I obliged, breaking my dudes-on-the-street rule. We went our separate ways. I felt like he was my reward for not going where I had no business going earlier. I was proud of myself.

Then life happened and after his initial phone call, to which he left a message, I completely forgot about him. Not in an I'm-not-interested way but in a life-is-crazy-I-don't-have-time way. He called again several days later. I realized I sucked and promised I'd call him that evening. I got caught up. I didn't.

Two days ago, I was waiting on the subway platform of my closest train station. I saw him out the corner of my eye, first, dared myself to actually direct a full gaze his way. I tried not to, but I felt him staring. I prayed he wouldn't recognize me. But when I peaked over, his hazel eyes were still on me. I gave a faint smile. One I hoped conveyed how busy I'd been and that it wasn't him, it was me! His lips set in a firm line, his eyes a bit steelier, he gave me a look of his own. Actually, it was more of a sneer. Sheesh. It's rough in these streets. I thought about saying something, but it just seemed so pointless by this point. Too bad, would've been nice to have a little house in Studio City. Besides, this is why I've voted a new rule into immediate effect: no dudes within a 20 block radius. Not that it really matters.

Sabbatical, B, sabbatical.

That bitch stole my line,

xoxo

Blackie Collins

Cardinal Rules: The Degrees of Separation

There's always the question of who is off limits when it comes to dating and relationships. New York City is a small island, it's only three miles across, so you can only imagine how many lines have crossed. The phrase "small world" ain't got nothing on Manhattan. Everyone seems to know each other, six degrees of separation is more like two degrees here, so the possibility of meeting someone brand new that no one knows at all is damn near unheard of. I was once looking at some pictures of a guy I was dating from a party he'd gone to and a guy I had dated just prior to him was posted up in them. I cracked up. How did they end up not only at the same party, but posing in the same picture?! It was just so random.

That said, sometimes it just happens by accident. Someone you know starts seeing someone you once dated. They met through mutual friends, they met at a party, or event, they bumped into each other on the street and it was lust at first sight. Yes, this happens. But I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about when someone you've dated or were in a relationship with, outwardly pursues one of your friends. A friend he or she knows is your friend. A friend he or she may have met through you in the first place.

That is not NYC's lines crossing, that's some bullshit.

So let's start with what constitutes who is off limits exactly. Obviously, when his best friend runs into you months later at a party and tries to buy you a drink, that's a no-no. But some guy approaches you and you think you might know him, but you're not sure and after conversation, it turns out he works with your ex and you've heard his name a few times? Well, maybe you could go there, but with extreme caution. Depending on your relationship with your recent ex-beau, maybe you can ask if that would bother him. But if he's coming after your friends, girls he knows you chat on the phone and hang out with, he's very very wrong. There are some men that are just stupid enough to think girls don't talk at all. Granted, men gossip like Serena, Blair and the gang, but make no mistake: when you tried to slip it to her friend? Oh yeah, friend definitely told. And you're definitely an asshole for that.

When I was in college, I dated a guy whom I met once in passing when I was out with a girl who was a good friend of mine at the time. We later fell out, but more importantly, I started dating him. The important piece of information was that when I met him, she was dating him. It was all very loose, but I was wrong for that. We became friends again and I came clean about the whole situation, water under the bridge. But of all the guys I could've dated, I dated one of her's? Not cool.

On the other hand, I dated someone who turned out to be a friend of another guy I was once with. I had no clue they knew each other. No blood on my hands there. How would I know y'all were goonies. It's all a big stupid spiderweb and it can get confusing, so here's the cardinal rule: Don't do anything with anyone that in the reverse would bother you. It isn't just about respect, it's about being nice. And somehow niceness is overrated.

Despite this city's small parameters, there are thousands upon thousands of people floating on this little metropolis. While circles collide like crazy, it is completely different to go out of your way to date the friend of an ex. If you're mojo isn't up to par enough to find someone else? Well, make it easy on yourself...move to LA.

That bitch stole my line,

xoxo

Blackie Collins

Cardinal Rule: The Phone

I don't call boys.

No seriously, I don't. Call me old fashion, call me whatever (I've been called better and worse-I clearly, don't care), but I believe men should call women. I think it has something to do with the chase. I don't chase men, so I don't call them either. This is one of my cardinal rules.

So, there is no need for discussion, I'm not waivering.

I. Don't. Call. You...You. Call. Me

Oh wait...there is one exception to this rule: I call my dad.

That bitch stole my line,

xoxo

Blackie Collins

Cardinal Rules: Don't Sh*t Where You Eat

I know it's fun to date someone you work with, but I'm telling you: don't do it.  Sure, it gives you an extra pep in your step on your way to work and yeah, it's cute to have the office gossiping about you, but when it goes sour (or you two get caught in the copier room), you're up a creek without workman's comp.  

Back in my bartending days, there was a waiter named Sean whom all the girls fell for.  He knew he had it going for him at the restaurant, but honestly Sean wouldn't have had a chance in hell in the real world.  A thirty-something year old waiter with two kids? Wrong.  But he was cute and quite the charmer, so most of the (young) girls threw their draws at him.   Not I, said the fly-ass twenty-one year old Blackie.  Not even in my young and dumb days, did I break this particular rule (besides I had a boyfriend).  I watched from afar as he made mince meat out of those unsuspecting girls.  One got played so badly, she ended up quitting.  Sean apparently liked to dabble in photography and when pics of her head game were put on display like an exhibit at the MoMA, she fled.  It was sad, but honestly, she had it coming.  They all did in my opinion.  Why would you pee in a bucket of water that you drink from every single day?  It makes no sense-especially with the number of grown men roaming this city with better jobs and no kids.

Now, if you don't care, than go there. But, there are rules to the game, and when the proverbial shit hits the fan, you're gonna wish you had an umbrella called sense.  I don't do it.  I barely date people in my locale for fear I'll run into them once it's over.  However, there are exceptions to every rule and even I've gone rogue from time to time.  I broke my rule once.  He was a fine ass trainer at my neighborhood Equinox.  Sigh...He was totally worth it, but I still miss my gym.

That bitch stole my line,

xoxo

Blackie Collins