Craigslist Headline: Let's go see Garden State
"I wanna see this movie and looking for someone cool to go and check it out with, I am 6'1", athletic, easy going, mostly straight and looking for the same, looks like it would be a good movie so lets go......"
So, after a long weekend in which I attempted to recuperate from crazy Thai week (more details on this one to come) I woke up from a lovely nap around 5:00 and checked the ol' craigslist to see what was goin on - in my defense, I'm actually apt. hunting right now, and wasn't checking up for my usual voyeristic fix on the personals.... however... I still managed eventually to mosey over to that corner of the site, and found the ad above.
My sister, Amanda, has been begging me to catch this movie with her, which she saw last weekend and LOVED, and I know that I will eventually face some wrath for this, but my craving for a new personal ad story got the better of me and I answered - what I got back, was Jamaal.
That's right, Jamaal. I spent the night with a big, gorgeous, closeted black man.
Sorry Amanda - LOVE YOU!!!
Now, I hate the way this looks on paper, but to understand this story, I feel it's necessary to summarize my experience with race in America:
1. I have never dated a black person.
2. I have never hooked up with a black person.
3. To my knowledge, there were no black people in my pre-school, elementary school, and middle school in California, and DEFINITELY no black people in my high school in Bountiful, UT.
4. In college, all of the black kids refused to hang out with me and my friends, and congregated at what we refered to as the "table of blackness" in the cafeteria, where they planned activities for the college's Gospel Choir, which only allowed 2-3 token white folks in per year...
So, while I have absolutely no problem with black people whatsoever, and am even fascinated and enthralled by their culture, I have little to no social experience with them at all.
Ok - on to the story...
Jamaal (who is REALLY beautiful) and I decided to catch the movie at 7:00, with dinner at ChaChaChicken, my favorite trashy enchilada place at 6:00. Dinner conversation went something like this:
George: So, what do you do?
Jamaal: Well, I actually...
(George's inner monologue takes over): Oh My God. I can't believe I'm on a quasi-date with a closeted black person. I wonder if he's "DL?" Does that mean he's into aggressive bareback sex? Am I gonna be required to put out aggressive bareback sex? And when they say black men's penises are "big," but how big is "big?"
George: That sounds great! Where are you from originally?
Jamaal: Well, I grew up in...
(George's inner monologue takes over): I wonder if he's just really into white boys? What if he's not really into boys at all - I mean, the ad said "mostly straight..." Maybe he's just looking for a movie partner. Maybe he got together with his boys and had the following conversation:
"Hey Jamaal, what's up?"
"Not much, Tyrone. Hey, I'd sure love to see a movie about white people in New Jersey - do you know anyone who might want to go?"
"Nah - but I'll tell you what! If you get on Craigslist Men 4 Men personals, you'll find that in addition to all of the guys who want to fuck eachother anonymously, pee on eachother, and shove the occaisional big stick popsicle up their butt, there are actually TONS of nice guys who enjoy movies about white people in New Jersey."
"Really? Thanks Tyrone - I'll go home and post now!"
George: Wow - I've never been to Arizona - I hear it's great! Oh! We're running late for the movie, better get out of here!
Jamaal: Ok - seeya in a few!
We get there, see the movie (totally fucking brilliant) and head out for coffee at Anastacia's Asylum - which is the best coffee shop in the world if you really liked the 90's and were pissed that they ended.
We covered more of the basics - family, jobs, education, etc. I tried to gracefully bring sexuality into the conversation a couple of times, but to no avail - the kid clearly had no desire to divulge his preferences or history, which was actually refreshing in this sexually candid world where all of us are one credit card charge away from seeing our favorite celebrities go at it in badly lit camcorder scenes. We start talking about music. He mentions Lauryn Hill. I promptly lose my mind and birdwalk the conversation onto Lauryn Hill's notorious bad opinions of white people, instantly drawing an enormous line in the sand between the two of us as I begin to uncontrollably vent for the sake of me and all of my geeky-ass little cracker friends who lined up on AUG 25 1997 to buy "The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill," only to be told months later that despite the fact that more suburban white kids owned her record than actual black people, we were not welcome in the Lauryn Hill fanbase.
Thank God, I caught myself just in time to stop myself from launching into something like:
"And by the way, what is with it with you people and the goddamn guns! Can't you just medicate like us? I mean, for real yo..."
Anyway, we finished up coffee, walked back to the cars, and had an awkward "was this date supposed to be sexual?" sort of hug. I'll probably never see him again, which means I'll never get to ask him all sorts of embarassingly ignorant questions about black culture and the seemingly cavernous lines that separate it from my gay/white/weirdo existence. I'll never get to ask him what cultural values have forced the enormous "DL" community into an existence where their lack of education and acknowledgement have caused a skyrocketing HIV infection rate in the black community. I'll never get to have it out with him and explore why despite my education and simply knowing better, if a group full of young black men pull up to the side of my car, I'll slide down in my seat and pray to God that I don't end up deader than Tupac.
And most sadly, I'll never get to find out exactly how big "big" is.
"Do we know each other baby? I don't think we've met!"
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