L.A. Affairs: I’m a black girl. He’s a white man with a pickup. Here’s what happened

L.A. Affairs: I’m a black girl. He’s a white man with a pickup. Here’s what happened

“That guy over here .”

I happened to be conversing with my buddy, Kim, once we sipped cocktails at a club in Hollywood. She observed my look. “The … bald … white guy?” she asked, her face scrunched up in disbelief. We nodded. She raised an eyebrow and slurped on the vodka cranberry.

Some back ground might be helpful right here. I’m black colored and my buddy Kim is white, because had been the man under consideration. He additionally shaved their mind and, evidently, that tossed my buddy for the cycle. I knew why.

Since I’d known her I’d mostly dated black colored dudes. The real estate professional I’d came across in the LACMA summer time jazz show. The actor who’d offered me their mind shot because soon I was a TV writer as he learned. The musician who serenaded me in the Dresden between Marty and Elayne’s sets. All black. In addition to a couple of white guys in the mix had locks.

A couple of weeks later on, we climbed when you look at the passenger chair of this bald white guy’s truck as he picked me up from my apartment in Miracle Mile. Hmm … a pickup was driven by him truck. And I also knew from speaking with him in the phone which he had been from the Southern.

We smiled as he explained he’d made a booking at Ammo. Thus far, so excellent. We liked that destination. Once we drove along, we surreptitiously glanced at him — he had been using a good suit, having come directly from their workplace getting me personally.

He’d mentioned he had been a attorney, therefore I’d currently mentally examined the container for gainfully used. But another thing ended up being on my brain. Read More …