bougie bachelor chronicles

Too much "Ha!" in the A-ha! Moment - A Bougie Bachelor Chronicle

Two of our Bougie Bachelors in their late thirties started dating 2 young ladies of Asian descent in their early 20s. I say this not to judge (cuz I don't care - find you some happy) but to give you context for the upcoming BougieTale.

I had occasion to meet the young ladies early in the year and... it did not go well. One of the Harajuku Twins (Google it. Never mind, I Googled it for you here. Sorry for the snark but the similarities were plentiful) was dating an ex of mine. Which I was okay with until she turned nasty and insinuated that upon seeing me in person she understood why I "couldn't hold onto that man"...  The conversation devolved from there. I may or may not have called her Kikalolu a la Whitley from a Different World. I felt justified after she referred to me as a "round the way chick" um... me? A-ight den. But to each his own and whatnot. 

Where the story goes off the rails is when Bougie Bruh #2 (BB2) decides to marry Kikalu two or three months into the relationship. Calls me up all excited, do I want to come to Vegas to attend his Bellagio Bash avec Bridal Boo-Thang? Yeah... no. Even I knew that had disaster written all over it. About twenty folks packed their bags and headed off to Sin City on a Friday afternoon. Bachelor/Bachelorette parties Friday night with the wedding planned for midnight Saturday/Sunday. 

Here's where the story gets fuzzy. Things happened Friday night and like a good mystery novel, no one really had the whole story. What we do know is that 11:00pm Saturday night, no Kinu. Her girl was missing too. 11:15, 11:30, 11:45... M.I.A. A little after midnight folks go in search of girlie and gal-pal. They find them at a high-stakes poker table seated on the laps of two huge guys. They were either MMA or WWE or some sort of three initial fighting thing. As BB2 looks on, Kiki starts tonguing down dude in the middle of the Bellagio casino. 

Kikalu looks up, blinks and says, "Hey, I meant to call you. I got married last night!" She held up her hand to flash a ring. I'll let that sink in. 

Yeah, seems she decided that BB2 was trying to turn her into a housewife and she still wanted to part-ay. She met Clint or Clive or whatever MMA/WWE dude's name was at her bachelorette party and after five glasses of champagne explained that while she wanted to be married, she didn't want to be "all serious" with it. O__o Clint/Cliff/Clive (also not sober) suggested she marry him instead. They could just have fun. And so she did. The other Harajuku Twin decided Kikalu was right and she bailed on Bougie Bruh #1 as well. 

No one in the Bougie Crew went home happy. Except for Jay & Joy who won $5k at the blackjack table.

Upon hearing this tale, I asked BB2 the question - "What did you have in common with her? What made her wife material for you?" After a long silence, I was told that she was sweet and she didn't make him think. Oh. I didn't know someone who turned your brain off was hotness. :-/

Eight weeks later, girlie tried to say she made a mistake and she just got nervous and some other manner of foolery. He replied by sending a court order for the immediate return of the engagement ring and delivering whatever she left at his spot to her front door. She says she already gave the ring back and he must have "misplaced it"... 

So then I asked, "What did you learn from this?"  The reply, "I need a little less ha in my a-ha moments." Clever but I persevered, "Seriously, this was a life lesson. You have to have a takeaway." He shrugged, "Don't get married in Vegas?" I flung up my hands, "Vegas was not the problem." He tried again, "I should have insured the ring?"

I give up. Bougieland, can you name the twenty gazillion things our boy did wrong here? You don't need to be polite. Sometimes tough love is for the best...

No. She. Didn't. A Bougie Bachelor Chronicle

Without further ado - Trey (@AnotherWord43) speaks (with my edits):

I met a young lady through Facebook. She sent me an email saying she read some of my comments here on BnB and thought we "might suit" each other. Was I flattered? Yes. Skeptical? Quite so. How would someone form that judgment based on some of the (admittedly) borderline ratchet things I've said in BougieLand? Then again, I work 90 hour weeks. I travel 75% of the time. My social life is ranked well below sleep, laundry and basic hygiene at this point so if I am to meet anybody right now, chances are it's through a social media outlet.

I decided to find her approach fresh and innovative and I replied back. We went from emails to phone calls and about three weeks later met for coffee. Her pictures did her justice and she lived up to the wit and humor of our conversations. Okay, I thought, this is a definite maybe in the right direction.

The first hiccup happened right around date 5 or 6 when we went to a nice restaurant in Far North Dallas. Not really upscale, just a nice restaurant. It was Houston's for clarification. If any of you have tried to get into a Houston's on a weekend in Dallas even with a reservation, you know the wait is nothing nice. At some point she perceived that we had been passed over for our table. She went up to the hostess and demanded to know why the "white folkz" were seated before us.

She may have had a point and she wasn't loud about it but in my mind, she shifted back towards the maybe not category. Dinner was nice and we had four more dates sans drama. This is why (Chele is giving me the look now) when I had a casual work dinner (where everyone was bringing a plus one) to attend, I asked her to come along. we were a few months in and besides that Houston's moment, I didn't see any major issues. Yes, I had a little pause when I found out the casual dinner was going to be at one of the Sr. VP's houses. It's one thing to bring along someone to a restaurant, it's another to have them in close settings in someone's home. Especially before the relationship is truly defined.

But since I'd already asked and she really hadn't shown any more off-kilter behavior, I decided to take her along. what harm could she do? Really, that was what I thought. Even thought it might be nice to go to one of these things without getting the "when are you getting a ball and chain" joke our CFO like to drop at every occasion. 

The night of the dinner, I picked her up at her front door and she looked great. She had a huge purse and a tote bag. Yes. Here is where I should have asked the question, "What's in the bag, Tamra?" But I didn't. I assumed she was being polite and bringing a hostess gift. 

We got there and everything was fine. There were about ten couples in attendance. We made the kind of not so important conversation you make with people that aren't necessarily friends but co-workers. Our hostess announced that dinner was being served. We made our way to the dining room. They seated us (the only people of color) right in the middle. Someone gave a half-hearted attempt at a prayer and the caterers began to serve the salad. After the salad, they started bringing in plates. This is where we rode off the rails.

Girlie reaches under the table, pulls out a Styrofoam container from her tote and plops it over her china plate. It's barbecue ribs and brisket. She pulls out her purse and gets a roll and a small container of potato salad. She then turns to one of the waiters and asks for... wait for it... hot sauce. You know the saying about hearing a pin drop? Well we heard the flea sitting on top of the pin say, "Welp" as the pin dropped. 

I leaned over and whispered, "What are you doing?" She replied, "I don't know what they eat, I brought my own." I translated for the stunned table, "Tamra has some food allergies so she tends to be extra careful." I MIGHT have gotten away with it if the caterer wasn't serving smoked pork loin with a potato salad. AND if she hadn't next said in a not so quiet voice, "Sorry, I don't trust white folk food."

I just closed my eyes and prayed for instant teleportation to a galaxy far, far away. What to do? Stay and brazen it out? I thought about it but what if she said something WORSE than she already had? I couldn't take the chance. I stood up and yanked her up by the arm - "Tamra isn't feeling well, I'm sure you understand" and started moving her towards the front door. She's protesting, "Let me just grab my plate" and I'm losing it, under my breath, "If you don't bring yo ass on!" 

Drove her back to her house in silence. Silence after she glanced at me and said, "You mad, huh?" Pulled up to her door, put my foot on the brake and unlocked the doors. "Guess you're not coming in?" Silence. "Guess I won't be seeing you again?" Silence. "You kinda buppified anyway." She got out and slammed the door. I drove back to my senior VP's house and had dinner. I had to. It was the only way to save face. They thought it was hilarious. I still do not. I will say this though: Yes, Chele. I too am too old for this ish.

BougieLand, what say you to Trey's tale of when keeping it real goes wrong? have you ever had a date cut a fool at a corporate function? How much do we hate those corporate functions anyway? Thoughts  comments  commiseration? do discuss...

Bougie Bachelor Chronicles - "This is like work!"

Today I have browbeaten requested that Jay share some of his story. As some of you may know, @GuessImJay met @JoyGrooves at a Jill Scott/Mint Condition concert outside of Dallas this summer. It was an unlikely meeting. Joy was in town for the weekend choreographing a commercial in Irving. Jay is not a NeoSoul fan but came along because he had nothing better to do (translated: he couldn't decide which girl to bring so he rode out with us solo). Joy sent me a tweet saying she was in the area and wanted to say hi so I told her to come on out to the concert if she had a chance. When she arrived, it was like a scene out of a movie. You know the one where the hero and the heroine lock eyes and that's it? This was that. Less than two months letter she had moved in. Here's Jay's story (as edited by me)...

I was never insulted when people called me a player or a man-ho or whatever is said when a guy is not looking for commitment and just having a good time. I never considered myself a dog. I never made promises. I was always upfront. Women like me. I like them back. I was always good for dinner, a few laughs, a good time and that was that. 

I wasn't looking for more. Seemed like relationships didn't really fall that way for me. I was always the groomsman, never the groom and I liked it like that. 17 weddings since college. I gave in and bought a decent tuxedo about seven years ago. The fellas laughed and said it was irony that the one of us least likely to settle down owned two tuxedos.

I don't like the phrase settle down. It implies that you are giving in, right there, in the spot where you once stood. And that didn't sound like fun to me. I never met a woman that I thought was better or different than all the rest. And if I couldn't have better or different, what was the point? . My father says I wasn't looking at women in that way. He's probably right. I probably passed by or sped past some special ones. He also said when I found her, I would know. He was right about that too.

Everybody I know has fallen out laughing at me since I met Joy. The jokes about teaching an old dog new tricks, the bigger they are the harder they fall, things happen when you least expect it, jumping on the hook dying to get caught - I've heard them all. To which I say, so what, quit hating and tell me how to keep her. No one tells you that when you find the one, then you have to keep her and not do all the same stupid ish you used to do thinking she'll like that. I've announced to everyone who will listen, "This is like work!" All of this reconfiguring from a me to a we - it's not like you think it's going to be.

I'm not complaining. This woman is worth every bit of blood, sweat, tears, pleading and reconciliation. But why doesn't anyone tell you it's going to take all that? Not bragging but we're both attractive successful people who are used to getting our own way with the opposite sex. And we are both stubborn and a little bit spoiled. We have turned arguing into a sport. We got so tired after the last battle of wills that we ended up flipping a coin to settle it. That was just over who would do dishes last Thursday. We've never lived with other people. This is work. 

We start a lot of sentences with "I love you but..." and then we're off again. Neither one of us is what we call "relationship people" -people that always seem to be in long-term relationships and know how to navigate them? We know nothing about that. Maybe it's a good thing we both waited so long to find each other, we're surrounded by serious relationship people who are happy to give us advice even when we don't ask for any. It's early days yet but we're determined to go as far as this thing will take us. There's only one her and one me and we'll never find this combination again.

Shared my story because so many people asked and because I think people should know as hard as finding that person is, it's just as hard if not harder to know what to do to keep them. can I say it one more time? This is work!

BougieLand, show newly-reformed-formerly-confirmed-Bachelor Jay some love. No shade but if this dude can move his playa card to the back of the wallet - anybody can. They do fight right regular over household chores, car maintenance and remote controls... bless their hearts. Support them in their newbie struggles. Any thoughts, insights, comments...

The 90 days, no cocoa rule - A Bougie Bachelor Chronicle

A week or so ago, David's friend Shawn (okay, I claim him too) stormed into Jayme's house clearly furious, flummoxed and frustrated. He got a drink and then started pacing back in forth in front of the counter where the snacks were placed thereby making the rest of us furious, flummoxed and frustrated as well.  Mr. Shawn is the type who has to build up to his disclosures in his own way. If you try and force him to talk before he's ready, he shuts down. So we moved the snacks and let him stew for a little while.

Finally, he slammed his drink down on the counter and points a finger over to where Jayme, Annette and I are hovered over the guacamole. "This chick has put a 90-day padlock on the punanny. A time release lockbox. Who does that after the age of 30? Seriously, who does that?"

He continued, "What is the point of a b.s. rule like that when she is doing just about everything else? This chick has been naked, wide open on my bed doing-"

"Okay!" Jayme put her hand up. "Let's keep the details hazy. Let's pretend we're back in high school and say she's covered first, second and third base..." Shawn made a rolling motion with his hands, "third base plus some additional real estate and is just not letting you slide into home?"


"Is she a virgin?" Wes asked.

"Most assuredly not." Shawn answered.

"Wait, so she's letting you uh, taste the cocoa but not stir it?" Jay asked.


"And she's uh, licking the spoon?" Jay followed up.

"With enthusiasm."

"That's some high school college shiggity right there." JohnK said.

"Well what does she say?" I asked.

"She said she does not sleep with men without knowing them for ninety days because she doesn't want to make that kind of investment unless there's something real there." Shawn made the air quotes around "real".

Trey asked. "Women still have those rules? I thought they went out with the old millennium."

"Nope. They still have them." David shot me a look. So now all eyes were on me.

"Okay, wait a minute. I do have a 90-day No Cocoa rule but 1) I'm not a tease about it and 2) It's not a hard and fast rule." In other words, I've broken that rule under... duress. 

Owen shook his head. "No, it sounds slow and soft... and dry if we're really getting down to the nitty gritty."

Jayme rolled her eyes. "Some women want to hold off on physical intimacy until the emotional connection is there."

"I just like to know a guy mentally before I know him biblically." I shrugged.

"I thought that was rule was for three dates." Jay said.

"Whatever the time limit," I said, "it's not supposed to be just to torture the guy. However, in this case she appears to be doing a whole lot. If you get into bed naked with a guy and then pull up at the last minute, that's just rude."

Shawn said, "It goes beyond rude. It's immature and another term that I'll hold off on using."

JohnK said, "If she really wanted to keep the physical and emotional intimacy aligned, she wouldn't be dropping drawers and then snatching them up like she is. It's a power thing. She wants to keep you hungry so she's making all the rules."

Shawn added. "It's too bad because before she started playing all these silly-assed games, I kinda liked her."

Joy asked. 'Wait, so you don't like her any more? Are you just hanging in to get the cocoa and then you're done?"

He looked uncomfortable. "I wouldn't say that per se..."

Jay took up for his boy. "Isn't she kind of setting herself up for this? I'll bet she's got a string of 91 or 92 day relationships in her past."

This sparked a discussion amongst the men about how women play games with the hot & bubbly and really need to quit all of that. Then they remembered that we were standing right there and got quiet. 

Annette, who is always the quiet soft-spoken one said. "I'd call her ass on it. She may want to keep you hungry but there are plenty of other women who will feed you without all the drama. I'm not saying tell her to put up or shut up, I'm just saying you need to ask her what's the point of holding onto the vajayjay when she's giving up everything else? Like something magical goes down between day 89 and 90? I mean, when it's right, it's right. Nine days, 30 days, six months, whatever."

"Six months!" Most of the men said in unison. And then the conversation took another turn.

BougieLand, what do we think of cocoa time release rules? Ladies, fellas? Do you believe in them? Practice them? Who is a three-date all systems go person? And in this specific case - is girlie doing too much? Is she setting herself up to be dumped on day 91? Thoughts, comments, insights?

Dating Up - A Bougie Bachelor Chronicle

Hey everybody, this is David. Sometimes referred to as 3N, Le Ninja Nouveau, Batman and Studmuffin. No? Not studmuffin? I'm being censored as I type. Long story short, I am he who dates her. La Contessa de Bouge. I'm proud to say we'll hit the eight month mark in about a week. Time flies when you're having the time of your life.

Since I'm boarding a plane headed to China Friday afternoon and I won't be around for a while; I was coerced decided to write my one and only Bougie Bachelor post. So here goes.

First, a little bit about me. I'm from a small town in Southern Georgia. I'm the youngest of five, the only boy and I was an angel growing up. (That's my story, doubt me.) My parents were solidly middle class and raised us with an emphasis on education and academic excellence, an old school work ethic and what I can only describe as "down home" values. I was raised to be a Southern gentleman. Not sure I've always succeeded there, but for the most part, I've tried.

When I first moved away from home I had a life plan. I was going to finish college, get an MBA, and then meet Mrs. Chase, buy a house, two cars, settle down, have two kids and retire at forty. I'm thirty-six. I have the MBA, the house and the cars. Working on the rest. 

No doubt that looking back, I was so proud of what I'd accomplished that it never occurred to me to do more. Professionally and personally. Things (okay women) have generally come easy to me. There's probably some great saying about how things that come easy aren't really appreciated. What I didn't know then that I definitely know now... it's okay to reach beyond the stratosphere especially in your relationships. It's okay to work really harder than you've ever worked in your life for it. 

When I first started reading this blog, I was kind of intrigued by the mind behind it. I can say with about 70% honesty that I was drawn in by the brain before I saw the beauty. I'll never be sure how much the opportunity to meet her weighed into my decision to move to Dallas. But I do know that once I met her, I went borderline stalker in my quest. The woman is not easy but nothing worth having ever is.

What I'm saying to you, fellow Bougie Bruhs - date up. Find someone smarter, better-looking, more articulate, deeper-thinking, bigger-dreaming, more creative than you ever plan on being. Then make sure she gets that you are none of those things but have her back. If she still decides to put up with you, then fight like hell to keep her. (Something I have to figure out how to do from 7000 miles away) Just trust me on this, the journey is worth it. Even when it's a steep uphill climb. Not liking that? Even when the road gets rocky. How's that?

That's it, that's all the brilliance I have to share without getting filleted in my sleep emo. Keep an eye on Wonder Woman while I'm gone. David out.

BougieLand, not even sure what to do with that but I do I have to ask... who dates down? Deliberately? Don't we all want to date up? And if we all do, what does that mean for everyone else? Oh, while I'm asking - who has tips for long distance relationships? Really, really long distance... Le Sigh.

From future Mrs. to Miss-Me-With-That in 24 hours - A Bougie Bachelor Chronicle

Buckle up, BougieLand. And then let's count how many relationship "What Not To Do's" went down. Without further ado (but with a little bit of my editing), the heretofore delinquent member of the Georgia Boyz with his own Bachelor Chronicle:
Bougie People,
I'm Shawn. The Keyser Söze of the UGa APhis living lives in the Greater Dallas Metroplex. Word on the yard is that someone has started referring to us as The Georgia Boys. Which would be okay if it didn't sound like I should have a banjo in my hand and a Fry-Daddy sitting on the front porch or standing on the wrong side of Peachtree wearing a trench coat and a ski mask in June. Where was I? Oh. Deep inside your mental minds with my Keyser reference. I'm in the background, doing what needs to be done. If we were Boyz II Men with extras, I'd be... oh, still Shawn. This is all you need to know about me. 
I have had a girlfriend. One year, two weeks, one day and eighteen hours that lasted. She was in serious contention to become Mrs. Söze. Paula and I met at work: dated, clicked, boom. We are both in technical jobs, we both come from large families, we have complimentary tastes in food, movies, music, life plans. I tend to take a direct path from A to Z, she sometimes gets hung up around J and K but ends up at the same place. We vibed. We spend spent a lot of our time together but still maintain separate houses. Overall, the going has been was easy. 
Not to say that we haven't had ups and downs along the way. I've found that as a grown-damn-ass man, I prefer to be asked to do something rather being told or ordered. I prefer that a potential lifemate actually express her displeasure for something I've done rather than go mute, breath fire out of her eyes and when asked what the dealio might be, receive the ever-so-helpful one word answer of "nothing" or my favorite "figure it out."  
She, no doubt, preferred that I stay and finish an argument rather checking out after a certain amount of time and retreating to Shawn's Man Cave with Bose headphones, an Xbox controller and a medicinal bottle of aged amber beverage. She also did not care for my obsession with Atlanta Braves baseball, my ability to tune her out from time to time and the odd habit I had of throwing all the clothes into the washing machine regardless of color and delicacy. I'm a man. I do man things, okay? 
As I said, we had our ups and downs. But things have had been good. Almost eerily good. Until last weekend when we went from "Oh baby, move a little to the left" to "Everything you own is in a box to left" in about 24 hours. Friday, I had finished breakfast and was walking towards the garage when she stepped into the kitchen wearing some applause-worthy lingerie. She asked if I felt like being a little late for work. Hell yes I did. And I was. Very late. So late that I ended up staying late to wrap up a project making me late to pick her up for dinner. Once a month group dinner with the Georgia crew and significant others.  
Maybe I was still hazy from the breakfast booty but Paula looked especially lovely that evening and I said so. Her reply, "I hope you appreciate it." That gave me pause and all my happy haziness went away. Every once and a while, she could get in "a mood" of sorts. I hoped it wouldn't be one of those nights. But my hopes were in vain. 
Somewhere between salads and entrees, Trey someone started teasing Michele and 3N about weddings. In true bougie gangsta fashion, 3N said, "Shawn and Paula have been dating a lot longer, why don't you start planning their honeymoon for them?" Laughter from everyone but Paula who announced. "Why aren't we?" 
"Why aren't we what?" I looked at her from the left and sideways knowing she was not truly trying to have this conversation at table full of people. 
"Why aren't we planning our honeymoon?" 
"Because I haven't proposed?" I could have said it nicer but facts is facts, people.  
"Why haven't you?" Ask anyone, she was almost shrieking at this point. 
Now everybody at the table is giving each other the "this is mad awkward" looks and praying for food to arrive, a tornado to strike, some kind of diversion from the scene in front of us. "Paula." I said as calmly and quietly as I could. "Do you want to go home and discuss this?" 
"No, I want to discuss it here and now. Why haven't you proposed yet? And for the record, if you don't propose before Christmas, we're done." 
Please scan up the page to where I unequivocally stated how much I hate being told what to do. I'll wait.... okay. To try and diffuse the situation, I smiled and said "Well, this drama right here is not helping your cause." 
She told me to do something anatomically impossible to myself. Picked up my damn car keys from the table and walked out. After I finished dinner - what, I wasn't supposed to eat? I accepted a ride home and broke into my own damn house. She was standing in the kitchen and asked me, "So are you going to marry me or not?" 
"Not tonight, I'm not." 
"I'll be by for my stuff in the morning." I tried to talk to her. She walked out. I locked the door behind her. I tried to call her, she blocked my number. And that was that. So perhaps someone in this magical place you call BougieLand can tell me - what in the entire eff was that?
On the one hand, Shawn could have handled this with a wee more sensitivity. But in Shawn's defense, I've never seen her act like that. Ever. She's been just really good people. Until she flipped out at the table in the middle of a crowded restaurant. Have you ever watched a relationship break up right in front of you? Not comfortable. BougieLand, we're taking bets that they'll be back together in two weeks blaming this entire incident on a hormone imbalance. Then again, maybe there's some subplot going on that we don't know about. But in the meantime - what's with the ultimatums?! WDDDA? Thoughts, comments, just glad it wasn't another of Trey's stories this time?

Bougie Bachelor Chronicles - Episode 2: Not A but B

Truthfully, I'm tempted to rename this series The Trials of Trey - The Intersection of Trouble, Terrible Taste and Testosterone but it would be hard to fit in the blog title space. Here's our hapless hero back again with a dating story to share. Without further ado (just a wee bit of editing by yours truly)...

This one really wasn't my fault. Maybe a little bit but not really. It started at this sushi spot. Chele was making conversation with two women when 3N and I walked in. They were leaving but we made small talk for a little while. Both ladies were nice looking, articulate, employed. Mistress d'Bougie pulled me on the side and indicated that I should ask girl A (we'll call her Anne) out. However, girl B (we'll call her Bettina) seemed to be more of a "total package" woman to me. I asked Bettina for her phone number and the ladies left.

Bettina and I talked a few times during the week, sent a few tests back and forth, it was all good. She was 32, worked for a tech company, had her own condo, moved down to Texas from Chicago a few years ago, likes True Blood and Jason Statham movies. Nice, right?  I asked her out for dinner, she agreed. When I picked her up Saturday evening, she looked amazing. Not good, a-maz-ing. We get to the spot, order cocktails, the conversation is going and she's giving me the look that says the night could be epic. At this point it's all sexy.

Sometime in the middle of dinner right around her third drink she just started rapping. Like using her fork as a mike and dropping rhymes. Not someone else's rhymes, some nonsense she had made up. When I asked her what she was doing, she said she felt so comfortable with me that she just wanted to be her true self. Her true self wants to quit her corporate gig and try her luck in the rap game. She already has a few songs and beats ready to go. One of them she wanted to share. It was called... wait for it...

Straight outta Plano.

I don't know what many of you know of Plano. It's a northern suburb of Dallas. There are two blocks in East Plano that give one pause but the rest of Plano is Pleasantville. Soccer moms, block parties and corporate headquarters of companies like Dr. Pepper, JC Penney, Capital One Finance and Ericcson. It's not hood. It's not gangsta.

Maybe that's why she took to rhyming Plano with Drano. What is it Chele inserts right about now?


I didn't even know what to do next. What do you do? (Fellas, what would you do?) All I could do was nod and say "Wow, that's a truly unique aspiration." and hope she didn't fire off more lyrics. I called for the check and got this for my troubles:

"Trey, why we leavin'
I ain't tryna be deceivin'
Kinda hoped you and I
could spend the night interweavin'
Ya feel me?"

And. She. Was. Loud. No, I wasn't feeling her. Interweavin'? I tried to get Chele to tell me what bougie protocol is for leaving your date but she was too busy laughing at me. I drove old girl home (dropped curbside) and headed for the lika sto. (Yes, I said Lika Sto) What were Chele's words of wisdom when she caught her breath? "When I tell you to pick A and you pick B, what do you want me to do?"

Booo. Could a brother get some sympathy? How was I to know she had a L'il Kim fantasy tucked away? Come on now. Onto the next. 

I'm Trey. It's been real. It's been fun. But not real fun. *drops mic*

People, I told Trey to pick Miss Anne for a reason. Anne wasn't as "flashy" as Bettina. She was pretty but not in your face it. Bettina was a little fancy for me. Anne's conversation game was varied and insightful. Bettina could talk but she talked about music, fashion and entertainment. Plus, Anne was giving me the "solid sistah" vibe, do you know what I'm talking about? Bettina was giving me the "I'm all that and recognize" vibe. Here's was I do know: some folks gotta learn the hard way. Any words of wisdom, support, commiseration for Trey? The floor is yours...

Dating like Goldilocks - a guest post by @AnotherWord43

After my last Bougie Bachelorette Chronicle, I'm taking a break from blogging my own relationship adventures. I'll be soliciting some of you all to share your stories. Today, Trey Charles (also known as @AnotherWord43) has agreed to tell his story. Show him some love, won't you?

Stop. Wait a minute. I didn't say I'm dating Goldilocks. I'm an equal opportunity dater with a strong preference for #TeamSistaGirl. I said I'm dating like Goldilocks. Lemme 'splain.

I just turned 35. I'm degreed, employed, a homeowner and mighty fine to look at if I do say so myself. And I do. I was in a long relationship, about seven years but our careers took us to opposite sides of the country and neither of us made the effort to keep the relationship in tact after our moves. I know, that bears more scrutiny but not right now. Lately my dating history reads like a dark and twisted fairy tale: one girl is too much this and the next girl is too little that, I can't seem to find the one who fits just right. 

After the last three dates, Chele tells me I'm not allowed to pick my own companions for a while. Apparently, I'm only allowed to accept referral candidates from here on out. Le Manly Sigh. Here's what happened with the last three:

Bachelorette #1 - Meet her through a work friend at happy hour. She was pretty, articulate, sexy in an understated way, a little fancy. But I like that. We had good conversation. We had good first date. After that first date (no cocoa), she started calling and texting... a lot. Like we went out Saturday and by Monday she had asked me several (more than 7) times when we were going out again. I saw Fatal Attraction. I wasn't waiting on the boiling bunny. Next.

Bachelorette #2 - Meet her at church. Sweet, cute, a little conservative but that's not always a bad thing. On our second date, I took her to a dinner with the fellas and their s/o's. Yes, she wore a sweater set and pearls in June to a jazz spot. Yes she ordered a salad. Yes she was quiet and did not keep up with the banter. I assumed it was that she was shy. Plus in comparison to the other ladies there (Jazz is in marketing, Michele is a writer, Ivy is in sales) she wasn't going to fare well in communication comparison. But she's just a really reserved (to the point of uptight) woman. In all things... very, very quiet and conservative. That's all I"m going ot say about that. Next.

Bachorlette #3 - Meet her in the mall. She walked up to me and struck up a conversation. I liked the boldness. We talked a few times and went to a movie. Not bad. Took her to a cookout on Saturday night and found out that the boldness was actually brashness. Like she talked real reckless with no filter. Example? She announced that "Bougie black people are what's wrong with America today. If Obama had more hood in him, we could see some real change." Girlie, know your audience. She was at a party where me, Wil, John, David, Jay, Owen, Jayme, BB - all people who frequent a site called BougieLand were in attendance. Three-fourths of the party went silent. The other fourth ignored her. She went on and on and finally noticed that no one was feeling her. Chele was looking upward in prayer trying so clearly not to engage.

Girlie realized everyone was taking their cues from Chele so she starts going in on how bougie bitches lose their men to real sistahs like her because they had no bed game. She said something to David and I didn't even hear what her next sentence was but I did hear Michele tell her she needed to buy a clue and catch a case of sit-yo-ass-down. What followed thereafter shall forever be known as Michele's Epic Ether. She shredded this chick.You all have read a OneChele rant, right? Well dial it up, add a bougie twang and technicolor and you have this. Some highlights:
Chele telling girlie her weave looked like she bought it from from a crackhead's grocery cart. (Okay, the hair was a little tragic)
Chele making some sort of rhyme involving wide hips, loose lips and drop kicks. (I don't know exactly what she said but it was Grammy worthy)
Chele telling girlie that what she truly needed was a stiff drink, a stiffer d**k and an attitude adjustment. (At which point the ENTIRE backyard went "Ooooo Shit!") 
Girlie burst into tears and ran out front. Then I remembered that she came with me and I had to slink out to take her ratchet-ass home. She told me that my friends were "mean" and I should have stood up for her. Excuse me? Ya'll know what time it is... Next.

I'm taking a page out of Michele's book and taking a dating hiatus. Clearly I need to reflect or get perspective or whatever. So there's my chronicle, dissect away. 

BougieLand, in my defense I'd had a long day, three drinks and it was hot. But enough about me, based on what you've heard about Trey's dating shenanigans -what should he do differently (if anything)? What kind of woman should he date next? And shouldn't he wait until a few dates in to bring them around the entire crew? Thoughts, comments, insights?