In a New York Minute..

A short narrative illustrating the fleeting nature of love in 2024.

It’s Monday night, you get home from work, throw your clothes on the bathroom floor, slide into an oversized T-shirt, and tackle the couch for some much-needed TV surfing. Just as you’re about to start Season 3 of Girlfriends you notice a Hinge notification pop up on your screen. Reluctantly, you check it and to your surprise, he’s cute.

He answered your prompt about why podcast mics should be locked up and require special licensing to purchase with a witty comeback showing that he has a sense of humor *and* probably doesn’t subscribe to red pill content. You’re trying not to get excited, this is in fact, the bare minimum. So, you play it cool by hightailing it to his Instagram where you notice he only has six pictures, one with his family on the beach, two at a random concert, another where he seems to be eating alone at a restaurant in Manhattan, and lastly, him and his super adorable dog. After checking his tagged photos and finding nothing but work-related posts you finally search his following, you’re satisfied…for now. There are no clear signs of tomfoolery here and from the easter eggs hidden through his online profile you deduce that you two have very similar music tastes and he seems financially responsible. You thank yourself for a job well done as Inspector Gadget and send a laughing emoji in response to his message. The hard work is done now that you’ve matched and you try to return to life as usual before this potential boo swooped into your corner of cyberspace.

The next day you’re slammed with meetings and you’re usually good at staying focused throughout the day, only checking your phone every few hours to make sure the World is still turning the way you left it.

CHIRP!

 Great. It’s starting. This is when you try to resist responding quickly because you’re not desperate, you’re busy, and who does he think he is anyway? But alas, now you’re checking your phone and responding in record time because it feels good and he’s saying a lot of right things. And not “right” in the lovebomb-obssesive way, but “right” in terms of making actual sense and capturing your interest through intellectual sparring. You like this and your therapist is working with you on allowing yourself to explore things that feel good. After all, you’re not in trouble. You’re a grown adult woman who’s having an innocent, engaging conversation with another grown adult. It’s fine!

Hours turn into days and days turn into weeks when you wake up and realize this very recently strange person is now more than a speech bubble online. There’s a contact photo, and emojis, and somehow, he’s worked his way into your favorites in your iPhone’s contacts. He lives in New Jersey, you live in Atlanta, but your family is in New York and that’s home away from home for you. New York is also a stone’s throw away from Jersey. Usually, men you date are scared off by the fact that you liv in another state but, not this time? It’s a Friday night when you’re on one of your routine phone calls with him when talk turns to the holidays and where you’ll be. Before you answer you pause to evaluate if this is a line, you’re ready to cross yet because history has shown everything can be going swell until an actual date is planned or until you mention him to your homegirls, at which point, men factory reset and glitch until you’re forced to buy a new one. Apple could learn a thing or two from niggas when it comes to new product rollout. Anyway.  Remembering what you’re learning in therapy, you tell him you’ll be in his neck of the woods for Christmas with your grandparents in Queens.

“ Oh, that’s awesome. That’s only about forty-five minutes from me. If you’d like, I can pick you up and take you to the city. Maybe after your birthday?”

“ I’ll let you know; my plans are still up in the air and I have so many people to see while I’m there. Let me figure out some things and get back to you.”

There was a beat of silence after you told him you’d keep him in the loop of how your vacation shakes out and you could tell he was hanging in suspense, just hoping you’d say yes but you couldn’t give him that much satisfaction even though you knew damn well you couldn’t wait. A Broadway play, dinner, and a stroll through Bryant Park’s Winter Village were up for grabs and each element of the date are exactly your idea of a good time. You also can’t help but notice none of these options were cheap. Noted, but offer not accepted at the risk of seeming too eager.

It’s Monday again and you leave for vacation on the coming Saturday. Time is winding down and you do have to let the poor guy know if you’ll be seeing him or if he’ll have to cry himself to sleep for the rest of his life so you put him out of his misery.

“ Hey, I’m free to hang out on the 28th, the day after my birthday. I realize that driving from Jersey to Queens and then to Manhattan may be a lot so I can meet you in the city if it’s easier. I don’t mind.”

You smack yourself in the forehead because you’re doing it again, you’re giving him the easy way out unprovoked. Ugh.

“ Hey! I love driving so I can pick you up. Plus, it’s cold and wouldn’t you rather be in a warm car than the train? Just send me the address.”

Okay, he WANTS to do something for me, I’ll let him.

“ You’re right but just so you know, you’ll probably have to say hello to my grandparents. This is a West Indian household, it’s a big deal to them. Sorry in advance LOL.”

“ I expected nothing less, I’m African so I kinda knew I’d need to show my face if I was picking you up from their place. It’s a respect thing, I get it.

Your birthday has passed and the time has come. It’s a brisk December morning in Queens. The sidewalk is frosty, the clouds are heavy and glum, but there’s no chance of snow. Just gray skies and the last few traces of Christmas lingering in the air making way for New Years Eve. As you get up from bed, you take a deep negro sigh because you know you have to tell your grands that you’re going out with a man that you met online which means all they’re going to hear is you have a date with a serial killer. Tiptoeing down the stairs, you head to the table and your eyes shift from grandma to grandpa trying to find just the right moment and way to bring it up. Of course, they understand you’re grown, but not really. They’ve never really heard of you and a guy and you didn’t plan on that happening outside of the form of a wedding invitation. It’s already 11:00 and he’s picking you up at 12:00. Caribbean math is waiting to tell your parents something with just enough time for them to not say no. Out with it, Tsahai.

“ Granny, I’m going out this afternoon. *gulp* With a boy I’ve been talking to.”

She turned around, eyes big.

“ Oh? And where do you know him from?”

Oh brother, here we go.

“ I met him through a mutual friend I went to school with, please don’t look at me like that.”

“ Mhm, okay. Have you met him before?”

“ No, grandma. We’ve been talking and texting for some time, though.”

Well, that set the dining room on fire. The tirade started about talking to strangers and the dangers of online dating, she knew all about it because she hears the horror stories on the local news. After thirty minutes of lecturing, my nana accepted that everything will be okay and you’ll share your location with your uncle so they know of your whereabouts. Sheesh, now it’s already 11:30. You run upstairs to shower and get yourself together before they can interrogate you even more.

“ I’m outside, I think. Is there a BP across the street?”

“ Yes, our house is on the same side as the gas station. I’ll come out in a second.”

You rush to put on your shoes and coat and get out the door when you notice your grandma is standing behind you at the door with her long trench on and her favorite beret.

“ I’m going to see his face; you thought I was going to let you go off with some person you met on the phone two days ago without knowing his face good? Please! AND, if he’s a man of character, he’ll know he’s supposed to greet your family. Where is he? I don’t see him. I thought you said he was here.”

“ I don’t know, he said he was. Let me call him.”

He said he was still in the car on the phone with his mother but would be at the door shortly. We waited and with every minute that passed, I could feel Miss Merrill becoming more impatient and deducting points off his overall score. We saw a dark-skinned man of medium stature duck around the corner and approach our gate. Every hair on your body stood up, this is new for you. They give each other a firm handshake and he tells grandma what the plans for the day are, his name, and that he’s glad to meet her. Almost instantly, your grandma who doesn’t smile at everyone, gave him a warm genuine grin and you take his hand and walk away from the block. The pressure starts to subside with every step you take further from home. You survived it and so did he.

You’re now riding down the Jackie Robinson in his 2022 Honda Civic and you’re keeping your wits about you while simultaneously taking in the cleanliness of his car, his hands, his nails, and his pristine posture and skin. You won’t tell him any of this because like we said before, bare minimum. Or is it? He tells you the Broadway play he planned on taking you to was sold out so he planned something else instead he thinks you’ll like just as much, a trip to FAO Schwarz to visit their Barbie store. You have a flashback of mentioning that a weird fact about you is you collect dolls, specifically Barbies. It had been so long since you’ve been inside an FAO Schwarz, it’s a toy store you remember visiting as a small child going to Phipps plaza. It must have shut down before you turned eight. Your inner child is excited and you can’t help but tell him you’re looking forward to it and asking how he knew you’d be so excited.

“ I listen.”

He ate that one miniscule thing.

After brunch in Brooklyn, we drive through seas of people and bridges to Manhattan where the skyscrapers put Atlanta’s skyline to shame. At this point, you’re realizing how good it feels to romanticize romance for a minute. It feels good to have a Carrie Bradshaw moment. Life is good and love can happen for you. So far, you’ve had to do nothing but express interest in things and he just might like you enough to follow through on all of them just for the sole purpose of making you happy and leaving a lasting impression.

The date stretched on and we make it into FAO after waiting in line for what felt like an eternity. Bright luminescent pink arches welcomed you into Barbie World. There was a display of Barbie dolls on a counter with the phrase “ Build your own Barbie” hanging behind them. You turn around and look at him and he just smiles and asks if you’d like to make one. You go, boy.

The date lasted the entire day, you were picked up around noon and dropped off past nine. Barbies, brunch, an impromptu shopping trip, dinner at Bryant park tuckered you out but you were happy when you arrived back at home. You were hopeful. It was a date that was planned and executed with you in mind and for once, you didn’t have to do anything to get it. There was no labor involved. It felt unreal and you spent a whole three weeks reminding yourself that it was, way into being back in Atlanta and returning to real life.

The real test would be whether you see him again and if he’ll continue to make an effort to keep communication going now that you’re hundreds of miles way again. Phone calls and text messages that were once routine started to spread out and became sporadic to the point where you only caught up once every few days. Space began to grow between you two and for a while you hope it’s because he’s simply busy, he does have a demanding job and multiple direct reports. But you can’t help but wonder and check into the once extremely realistic logical part of your brain that told you “if he wanted to, he would”.

*Sigh*

CHIRP

“ Hey! I know we haven’t talked as much as usual, I had a lot to process after the funeral and I’m now doing three people’s job at work. What are your plans for Valentine’s Day?”

“ Hi. It’s fine. I don’t have plans.”

“ Oh, okay. Well, I’d like to see you for Valentine’s Day. I thought it would be nice to spend the weekend together and I’d plan things to do in the city. How does that sound?”

“I’ll have to see. Valentine’s Day is a Wednesday so I’d have to take those days off.”

One week later you tell him you’d come up to see him against your better judgement. Busy season had started at work with planning for another Expo was on the horizon and you liked the idea of being whisked away for a weekend. Valentine’s Day was one day of the year you vowed not to acknowledge outside of spending time with your girlfriends. The one time you celebrated it, you were in a relationship with an unloving selfish man. Just thinking back on the memory of you staying in and cooking dinner (for him) on the 14th makes you wince. You deserved this year to be different. You cut him down from the web of suspense you like to leave him in and confirm you’ll be able to visit and before you know it, you’re finally telling the close friends story you have plans on V-Day. There was only one problem though, it had been two weeks since you had told him you’re coming and since then there’s been no mention of an itinerary, plane ticket, or anything else. Time was beginning to dwindle and with no solid concrete indication of a baecation, you mentally clear your schedule for the 14th. Life sent a big fat reality check to with your attention, express mail. It was difficult not to compulsively check the text threads to make sure you weren’t bugging and he did reply. You keep checking, hoping that each time you look, the obvious wouldn’t be there. But there it was.

“ Read 1/23/24”

A wave of emotion washed over you: rage, confusion, sadness, and apathy. Why are we here again? Why did he go through so much to see me and make plans to see you again just to ghost me a few weeks before Valentine’s Day? None of it really matters speculation does nothing. Contacts are deleted, photo gone, and now he’s just 347-123-4567.

You delete the app that’s made to be deleted, not because you found the one, but because you’ve had enough. Entirely enough mixed signals, false hopes, promises deferred, and time wasted. For the life of you, you just couldn’t wrap your head around why and how he appeared to be right for you. Grandma Merrill always said, “every man has one good suit” and maybe wearing his for a few days was easy enough. Maybe he realized he wouldn’t be able to wear it for four days straight, it would need to be washed.

Thank you for reading <3