Awkard Moments…

Inspired by the Misadventures of Awkward Black Girl (, I want to share an awkward moment, repeated dozens of times in high school: my white girlfriends gushing that they had the perfect guy for me, he was always and without fail, black. Now why should that be a problem? Well, because although I’m black, I’m not attracted to every black dude I’ve ever run across, that’s just fucking ridiculous. For a little background, I was one of 3 specks of pepper in a sea of salt in my high school class; I attended a private college-prep Catholic high school, so it’s not hard to imagine that being the case. Suffice it to say all my girlfriends were white and those other 2 specks of pepper were both guys. Everyone in my damn class were always assuming me and one of the other pepper flakes were going to attend every formal together and if I wasn’t going with one of them my white girlfriend (WG) would try to hook me up:

WG: I have this friend; you would totally love him…

Me (eyes wide with possibility): Really?

WG (said with a little too much pep) …yeah, he’s black!

Me (dashed hopes and a flicker of suppressed rage, squeeks out): Oh

At the time I was less prone to speak my mind, what with the awkwardness of just being a teen; couple that with being black and poor and you’ve got yourself a mental molotov cocktail. Here’s what I wanted to say:


WG: …he’s black!

Me: and?

WG: (crickets)

Me: Sooooo just because he’s black, we belong together? Well fuck you, you racist rag!


Clearly I didn’t go off on this rant because despite these foolish little moments I liked my friends, but it sure sucked always being the charity case for your white girlfriends’ cast-off negro leftovers. I kept hoping that one day, one of my girls would say, ‘Cija-I got the perfect guy for you, he looks like Brad Pitt in Thelma & Louise and he’s totally been asking me about you!” But alas, that was never and has never been the case. Mercifully I graduated from high school and the small-mindedness that comes with rural/suburban life and went off to Sarah Lawrence College where, for the first time, I met black girls with a background like my own, and white girls who never tried to hook me up with anyone and who actually had multiple friends of varied hues and backgrounds. No surprise that I have no relationship with any of my high school friends, although I have run across several of them. About 2 years ago I was found on Facebook by a former friend from that era; we were catching up discussing our professional lives, her divorce, and her child, then my former friend (FF) asked me a question:


FF: Are you single?

Me (reluctantly and with dread): …yes

FF: I have the perfect guy for you!

Me: …oh

and like clockwork…

FF: He’s black!

Me (knowing I’ll never call her again): welllll, I gotta go…

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