My Time = Coffee Cakes?

So, the other day I was on Twitter, and ran across this Tweet from Steve Harvey.

I’ve been there. I’ve wondered about this question myself in my early 20s. Not to mention the many men I’ve met over the years who have tried to guilt me into paying part of the first date (and let’s be honest, it worked sometimes). So it got me thinking…

I recently met a musician at a gala, whose band was hired to play. As I seem to have a natural knack for  attracting eccentric and “interesting people”, he didn’t disappoint. Having boasted that he’s travelled to every continent except Australia, but he was “done experimenting with food at this point” (which means he wants what he knows he’ll like, including McDonalds burgers and Chinese food…I kid you not……he had a HUGE inflated sense of self. But it didn’t stop there.

He claimed that he “didn’t date”, and that he’s never met a woman who didn’t want him to be their boyfriend. [First RED flag, Both of these were signs that he didn’t feel that he needed to prove anyone..] He said he was too old to do the “weekly dating thing.”

Despite hearing this and maybe against better judgment (I mean it always is, when you look back right?), me telling him that wouldn’t work for me, and him telling me that he was just “kidding”with what he said, Hurricane Sandy came. He lost his power in Zone A, and I stupidly offered that he was welcome to come by me.

Upon showing up without saying he was coming, in dirty sweatpants and a stained sweatshirt (mind you, we’ve only gone out twice, and dinner the second time was upon my insistence), he did stop by the store however on his way over to stay with me!

What did he bring do you ask?

  • A half eaten box of Coffee Cakes
  • A bag of potato chips
  • A yellow ding dong

And in reading Steve Harvey’s text I thought, wow does he think that my time (and being in heat and having a hot shower and a home cooked meal) was worth anything more…than coffee cakes? Or raggedy sweats? lol No, he did not. He just thought he was that good of a catch, that impressing me didn’t even touch his radar. As if…AS IF…I actually am so in desperate need of him. Which is the problem to me with NY boys and their ever ending options “new one always coming around the corner” mentality. But that’s a topic for another day.

Because any man having the pleasure to even come over your apartment after only 2 weeks of knowing him, should be bringing something more cakes!

Now there’s of course more to the story, which validates everything I thought once he I saw him, but the Moral?

When a man tells you he doesn’t “date”, run. He’s not dating you because he just knows he already wants to be with you and doesn’t need to wine and dine you to figure it out.

It’s because he’s crazy. And is definitely not willing to show you what you’re worth. Which should be the new definition of crazy, I’ve decided. Into it.

What is your time worth?

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