Confession: I Went On 2.5 Dates With A Hotep And Lived To Tell The Tale » VSB

Dating, Relationships, & Sex, Featured, Theory & Essay

Confession: I Went On 2.5 Dates With A Hotep And Lived To Tell The Tale

Universal Pictures screenshot

 

Before Facebook memes about women making a plate for their man and Dr. Umar Johnson took the interwebs by storm, I was quite uninitiated to the world of the Hotep. I knew guys like Shazza Zulu from A Different World existed but I never thought I was the kind of dame to have one stumble into my life. And I certainly never thought I’d come this close to falling head over heels for one. Here’s my story.

We met on a commuter train during rush hour. We were both wearing Vibrim Five Fingers sneakers. Unironically. He sidled up to me and hit me with a good old-fashioned, “Excuse me, Miss. What’s your name, where are you from…” and it was evident from the door that the man had done this before. He had shoulder-length locs and chocolate-brown skin with well-kept facial hair. He dressed like a backpack rapper. Little did I know that backpack was filled with sage bundles and shea butter. He smelled like incense. Not the good lemongrass incense your bougie ass gets from Love and Hip Hop pilates with Cardi B after paleo brunch in Williamsburg, either. He smelled like the kind of incense you have to travel to the headshops for. The kind that comes in scents like Egyptian Musk and Babodyrock Obama. He asked for my number. The ask was subtly fuckboi-ish (don’t ask me to explain), so I instinctively put my fake number in his phone. He flashed me a smile. I’ll admit, it was a great smile.

You know what, that’s actually my work line. Let me give you my personal number,” I blurted out. Nailed it.

Our first date was a picnic in Philadelphia’s famous Love Park. He forgot the sandwiches so we were basically just hanging out in the park watching pedestrians and the oldheads play chess near the fountain. He said he wanted to get to know me better. I told him I had returned to college as an adult for a degree in communications. I asked him about his background. He was born in Jamaica but grew up in the area. We talked about everything under the sun, y’all. We talked about our favorite black art, argued if David Allen Grier was a secret Wayans brother and Wyclef’s performance in Shottas. We talked about urryting.

The conversation turned to religion. I admitted to growing up in a religious household but standing out as somewhat of a black-sheep of the family for rejecting organized religion (and later in life all religion). He told me he was raised Muslim but had moved away from those beliefs a long time ago. He referred to me as “Sister.” A lot. “My sister” this and “Look, sister” that. I assumed he did this from growing up in the Nation of Islam. I was pretty much open to anyone’s ideology unless that person happens to be a Sea Org member so I pressed further. Why, oh why, did I press further?

“You see, my Nubian Queen, my beliefs are complicated. It’s not just a belief system but a completely different way of seeing the world. Once you’ve had your mind opened to it, you will never see the world the same way again!” he told me.

“That’s cool. I’m, like, really into Lost mythology right now (#whereiswalt?) so I can probably get jiggy with some metaphysical analysis,” I claimed.

He wanted to know if I had ever read the Farmer’s Almanac. I joked that I hadn’t been a sharecropper in many a moon, shout-out to the Bordelon’s n’ them. He seemed very disappointed. I brushed it off. That smile, y’all. We ended up staying at the park until nightfall to watch the fireflies while I recreated scenes from Love Jones in my mind. Before we parted ways, he stopped at a local newsstand and purchased a copy of that year’s almanac.

“Make sure you read it. We’ll talk soon,” he said as he handed me the newly-purchased copy and escorted me to a taxi.

Good people of VSB, that thing stayed on my nightstand for 525,600 minutes. I meant to read it. But things got busy with work and school and we were just about to find out the origin of the Smoke Monster on the island. On our second date he took me to a quaint tea house. I thought it was so romantic! In hindsight I think he was just broke AF! He asked if he could read my lifelines and as I stuck out my hand and looked deep into his eyes I realized this is how chicks end up pregnant with some maybe-baby. I needed to regain my composure. I offered to read his tea leaves and for-run-told-dat he would have a long and prosperous life. He made a joke about my third-eye needing Lens Crafters and I black-girl blushed.

Things were going well until he asked me had I been keeping up with my almanac studies. Studying what? How much rain fitna fall? I told him I had skipped the assignment on account of me having a life and that little thing called the 13th Amendment. His demeanor seemed really cold all of a sudden. He was giving me bad vibes. My chakras were all out of alignment. I knew I had offended him but my social awkwardness left me at a loss for what to say to smooth things over. He made some excuse for needing to end date two early and he agreed to make plans with me soon.

Three weeks went by and I hadn’t heard from him. No calls. No texts. Not even a “wyd?” message on gchat. (For the youths out there, “gchat” is where women of the aughts went to get unsolicited and poorly-lit dick pics before Snapchat was invented.) I had decided it was best to move on when out of the blue he called me.

“Good Morning my beautiful Nubian Queen. How is life?” he exclaimed.

“Hey {through bites of Popeye’s biscuit} “Me? Life is great! How are things on your end my…um…Onyx…uh…Sith Lord,” I retorted.

We did the small talk thing for a few minutes and then decided to go on date number three later that week. This time a real King James version-arsed date complete with dinner, drinks and dancing afterwards at Philly’s now-defunct Club Fluid. I showed up wearing an outfit that I thought screamed, “I’m auditioning to be an extra in the Beyonce’s “Diva” video but I do read books on occasion.” He came wearing a black ninja shirt and and culottes that looked to be made out of hemp and no “ninja” is not a euphemism for the n-word. This nigga was really dressed like we were going to fight Cobra-Kai in a poppy field somewhere. I was so confused. Here I was under the impression we were on a date and this dude was gearing up to fight Sub-Zero.

I waved off these red flags and warning signs yet again because bitches gotta eat but I made a mental note to remember the time he came dressed for dinner and drinks like everybody was kung-fu fighting. Over dim sum and miso soups he grilled me on that damn almanac. He explained to me that all matter and meaning in life can be predicted from the annual almanac. It honestly wasn’t the weirdest thing I’d ever heard anyone say so I proceeded to order rock shrimp and a vodka tonic. He then went on to tell me that he was able to predict the future. Mmmkay. But not just him. All black men. He had obviously never watched a paternity episode of Maury.

“You see my sister, that’s the problem. You watching that tell-lie-vision and the signals from the white man are recalibrating your ovarian energy with their curses and spells. You’d know this if you were studying your almanac,” he elucidated.

Pause.

What did he just say about the energy of my ovaries?!

He was getting less and less attractive to me by the second so I ordered another vodka tonic. When the waiter came he mentioned to me in a voice way too loud to ever be confused for a whisper that Asian people were actually an alien species that had been sent to Earth by the white man to seduce the black man with their docile yet sensual wiminz. He must have noticed my dismay and he thought he’d placate me by assuring me as a black man it was his duty to fertilize the planet with his black seed and that each black man required a concubine of every “race” but that the black woman was his one true queen who was worthy to sit by his side. So romantic, y’all.

I took my drink to the head and excused myself to use the powder room. From there I took a moment to give myself a pep talk. I needed to make some changes, y’all. Like, immediately. So I cold dashed and ran around the block, finding my way to a cab. I called my best friend on the way back home and well, I’ll just let her response be the moral to this story.

“Oh, girl. He wasn’t nothing but one of them damn Hoteps. You never go full Hotep,” she cackled.

Now I know.

Jordan Kauwling

Jordan Kauwling is an early thirties Philadelphian but she tells everyone she’s in her late thirties because she doesn’t understand how math works. When she’s not busy writing, singing, eating all the falafel or unsuccessfully finishing another craft project you can catch her talking junk on Twitter.

  • I had stank face while reading this entire post. Especially when y’all got to the picnic at Love Park. AGH!!!! Nothing clean happens there, I don’t care how many times they relocate. But also, as a lover of footwear, that anyone voluntarily wore/wears those Vibrams (which I had to Google bc I didn’t know they had a name) makes me SO emotional.

    I avoid prolonged Hotep interaction because I generally keep my natural hair covered with some Brazilian jawn’s hair. But I know this is common and they are out here in Philly. I need the VSB to know how dry the dating pool is here and send non-triflin recruits.

    https://uploads.disquscdn.com/images/2307f9263cad7978717a6b7f5b517c1c9d0ad0ce7f9a5269d57c20ed58a21f95.gif

    • Soon as I seen Love Park I said she either about to get pregnant or an STD

      • Or stuck by a hypodermic by accident.

      • lmao Or food poisoning. Or hoof in mouth disease. Or scurvy. Literally NOTHING clean goes down in Love Park.

        • What about those midnight platters they hand out on JFK?

          • May the people who truly need that food be nourished. May the both of us go wash our hands for even talking about it.

        • L8Comer

          Sheesh

      • miss t-lee

        It’s like that?

        • It’s raunchy af. I was so jaded by the time I left that city lmao

          • miss t-lee

            Bwahahaha
            I’ve never been.

    • KeyBrad

      I absolutely hate those shoes!

    • CozyVon

      How’d I know you were from Philly before you even mentioned it–just by the use of the word “jawn,” LOL? ;-)

  • Val

    *I see about 10 old azz brown vans filled with Hoteps heading this way*

    https://media4.giphy.com/media/s264GB53b8zUk/giphy.gif

    • ThatJerseyGirl
    • Diego Duarte

      They’re always lurking on every post, but they do tend to be more vocal when addressed.

    • Darkchloe144
    • Brown Rose

      I wonder. I got the “hey soul sister” from a corporate looking dude. Does that count as hotepish? Also, locs seems to be a draw to dudes who might be hotepish or those who think I got weed stashed in my locs.

      • Val

        Mmm, no way to know just from that greeting. But you should definitely make note of a greeting like that and file it away.

      • Jennifer

        “I got the “hey soul sister” from a corporate looking dude. Does that count as hotepish? ”

        Maybe he’s just corny? Yo no sé.

        • Brown Rose

          Corny. That works.

        • Gibbous

          My cue to run is “Queen.” I can imagine how much responsibility he is tryin’ to lay on me and I’m not catching that!

    • Jennifer

      No, not Dookie! I still get all in my feelings over this fictional character.

      • KeyBrad

        Chile! Me too, I loved Dookie.

      • Epsilonicus

        The saddest story in the whole series

  • I would have paid money to hear you read this out loud onstage in a theater.
    Classic.

    • Hiding My ?hide yours 2

      God.

  • Chuck Moulton

    You had me at “black-girl blushed”

  • I AM CRINE.

    You mean to say your ovaries weren’t doing the nae-nae in your abdomen as you sat in the presence, no the AURA of this divine being? You didn’t want to let that man make you a better WOMB-man with his prosperous seed?

    CHILE.

    • KeyBrad

      Womban…Yall are taking me back to my Hotepian lifestyle…LOL!!! my friend stayed saying that.

  • Leggy

    It’s delightful to read a fun post on vsb again.

    First of all, how does anyone forget the sandwiches for a picnic they’re actively going to?

    Second of all, why would anyone date a Jamaican man? They don’t give head (don’t @ me.)

    These are the question I have.

    • I need my Jamaican sisters to go on strike, Lysistrata style until our men get in formation. I dunno what math they do on the islands, but NAWL. The head thing don’t add up at all.

    • Jamaican men most CERTAINLY give head. Willingly.

      Don’t belee da hype.

      • Tam

        Jamaicans engage in a lot of chexual activities and then swear blind that dem nah do dem.

        • Kas loves Jamaican Breakfast

          I would ask my wife, but like me, she was a virgin when we got married.

          • Tam

            cool, cool., cool, cool,cool

        • L8Comer

          Precisely!

      • L8Comer

        Yup. I’ve even had a few Jamaican men tell me they didn’t… but then they did. Maybe it was just to make me feel special ?????

    • Miss M

      Don’t believe the macho posturing, bout “don’t bow”! Lies as many of us Jamaican women can tell you.

    • MsSula

      “First of all, how does anyone forget the sandwiches for a picnic they’re actively going to?”

      I was like… negro, what?? Pffft.

    • Rewind4ThatBehind

      Jamaicans do give head.

      What do you think keeps their dreads so shiny? Coco butter? Nope.

      • Niecy

        yaaaaaassssssssss

    • L8Comer

      (Yes, they do give head)

  • Deige

    Him forgetting the sammiches for our picnic woulda been the only red flag I needed #howsway

    • Junegirl627

      Yo I said that while reading this. I mean if it’s a picnic and that the only food… How the fluck you forgetting that?

      He would’ve been heading to subway, blimpies, pot belly… something!!

      • JPdaGawdIz

        right. and they were there for how many hours?! “Here let me help you find us some sandwiches”

    • miss t-lee

      As a member of #TeamChunk i’m sure that would’ve been the end of the date right then.
      How we picnicing and you forgot the most important part of the picnic?

      • Nichole

        I believe I can safely say all #TeamChunk members support this statement! I can’t hear you if I’m hangry.

        • miss t-lee

          Shol’ can’t.
          You’ll be sounding like Charlie Brown’s teach the entire time.

          • Haaaaahahahaha!

            • miss t-lee

              I’m so sincere, Popz.

      • -gets in formation-

        I already know we’re not meant to be when you FORGET food. Like, how? #TeamChunk

        • miss t-lee

          For real.
          These things are important.

        • lkeke35

          Yeah, you ask somebody on a date, dates consist of eating something. If you don’t feed and beverage your partner, then it’s not a date

      • JennyJazzhands

        Ok? I’m like this ain’t adding up.
        Date 1: Air
        Date 2: Tea
        And there was a date three? Nah.

        • miss t-lee

          Bwhahahaha

        • SororSalsa

          Well, at least there was some liquid refreshment on Date 2. I can understand her thinking that there could actually be some sustenance served on Date 3.

          • JennyJazzhands

            We’re working our way up to food now? See, I hate dating.

            • SororSalsa

              I’m assuming that, just like Molly on Insecure, she was blinded by the Hotep fineness. His smile was blinding her to the fact that his cheap azz was about to let her pass out from hunger.

            • LMAO

        • JPdaGawdIz

          At least she left him with the bill so he couldn’t pull no funny stuff

    • A picnic without sandwiches is just loitering

      • Linda Pritchard

        I just laughed out loud and almost lost the last piece of my Kit Kat! Luckily, I snapped my teeth together and all is well–ain’t nobody falling for that “I forgot the sandwiches” crap. A hungry woman on a loiter-nic would not be pleasant.

        • MsSula

          Loiter-nic!! I have been sent to my grave.

        • miss t-lee

          A “loiter-nic” almost had me slide out my chair.

        • I’m HOLLERIN over here!
          What cats don’t feed a sister these days?! That’s the LEAST you can do.

          • Sweet Potato Kai ?

            (Philly cats) #Troof

          • Valerie

            Men from the nawfside of Houston.

            • BrothasKeeper

              Glad I stay in the 3rd ward! Maaaaan, Mrs. BK would be hot as fish grease if I took her out and didn’t feed her!

              • Valerie

                I think I want some fried fish today. Thank you for helping me decide what I want to eat lol

              • Clairerwilliams

                Google is paying 97$ per hour! Work for few hours and have longer with friends & family! !sp55c:
                On tuesday I got a great new Land Rover Range Rover from having earned $8752 this last four weeks.. Its the most-financialy rewarding I’ve had.. It sounds unbelievable but you wont forgive yourself if you don’t check it
                !sp55c:
                ??
                ??;?? http://GoogleFinancialJobsCash345DirectCraftGetPay$97Hour ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????::::::!sp55c:….,……..

              • Rosalyncmiller

                Google is paying 97$ per hour! Work for few hours and have longer with friends & family! !sp300c:
                On tuesday I got a great new Land Rover Range Rover from having earned $8752 this last four weeks.. Its the most-financialy rewarding I’ve had.. It sounds unbelievable but you wont forgive yourself if you don’t check it
                !sp300c:
                ??
                ??;?? http://GoogleFinancialJobsCash590WebGroupGetPay$97Hour ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????::::::!sp300c:….,……..

          • Photoshop’s a helluva drug

            Does it count when they buy 2 steak they expect you then cook and provide the sides for?

        • Mochasister

          Yeah, it’s right up with there “Oh, uh, I forgot my wallet. Can you get the check this time? I’ll pay you back.”

        • lkeke35

          “Loiter-nic “!???

      • miss t-lee

        For real.

      • ~*V. von Schweetz*~

        How much does a Farmers Almanac go for cuz dude sounded so incredibly broke lol

      • CookieGugglemanFleck

        LOLOL!!! Comment of the day.

      • Furious Styles

        T-shirt!

      • Nashee Christopher Diaz

        Lmao….. How gangs get created!

    • The ONLY red flag.

      • Hiding My ?hide yours 2

        ??????

    • Mochasister

      Yeah, that’s a no go.

    • she

      I’m such a fat girl I stopped reading after I saw he left the food.

      • Kenya Watts

        Yeah, it was hard for me to recover after that one. I was speed reading after that to see when they left the park to get some food. They just sat that starving! :)

    • siante

      I said the same- you promise me a “picnic” & don’t bring the food? We’re fighting.

    • HelloKitty

      Taking a black woman on a date without the prospect of food at some point.
      #coreDump ain’t no coming back from that

    • Ashley W.

      Because that’s just downright disrespectful! #wherethefood #Ineedthat

  • Digital_Underground

    One of the best things about getting a real job and car was not being on public transportation anymore. I could no longer deal with the “conscious” brothers who couldn’t wait to school me on the ways of the world. From food to politics to urban planning I’ve heard every conspiracy possible. These days I’m older and more clean cut. So they just avoid me altogether. Thank Amen Ra!!!

  • BrothasKeeper

    And knowing is half the battle.

    “You see my sister, that’s the problem. You watching that tell-lie-vision and the signals from the white man are recalibrating your ovarian energy with their curses and spells. You’d know this if you were studying your almanac.”

    Whenever I’m losing an argument with Mrs. BK, that’s my go-to rebuttal from now on, and I’m gonna place extra stress on the LIE in “tell-LIE-vision”. She’ll chortle hysterically and forget what we were arguing about. Game, blouses.

    • La Bandita

      That wasn’t a picnic, but a bench sitting.

More Like This