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Pimp Memorial Drive

By December 24, 2019November 22nd, 2023Short Stories

Dating in Atlanta isn’t as tragic as people make it out to be.

The chatter around Atlanta’s dating scene makes black women believe they’ll turn into chalk dust before a suiter comes along. Not just black women either, gay men too. You know Atlanta is suppose to be some mecca for gay black men and even with that, they claim that the dating scene is trash. I don’t know.

I’m not male or gay, so, yeah.

All of the gay, black males that I know seem to have bustling dating opportunities, more than me even, so I take all that chatter with a grain of Himalayan salt. Pink. The good kind from Trader Joe’s.

Honestly, dating in Atlanta hasn’t been that bad for me. I could go out and have a suiter every night if I wanted. But yeah, I work and there’s not enough time in a day, patience either.

Quiet as it’s kept, I had a few dates lines up the first weekend I moved here from L.A. Now, you want to talk about a tragic dating scene for black women, honey, L.A. as in Los Angeles, not Louisiana, is tragic, especially if you got a ripe Georgia Peach if you know what I mean. They like women with ruler shaped bodies with balloons in front, in L.A. I just couldn’t get with it. I like burgers and fries too much to subscribe to something that would give me a ruler shaped body. No ma’am. Chile, I couldn’t get out of LA fast enough. Not solely because of dating, but it was a factor. The weather was nice and all but between all of the snotty attitudes, dense traffic, high ass rent, and lack of decent peen, it was beyond time to ditch the palm trees for pecan trees in the dirty dirty.

The south has always had the reputation of pleasant attitudes and socialization. Anytime I’ve visited any city in the Bible Belt, I’ve had no issues socializing; whether friends or otherwise.

Like yeah, snatching a date was as easy as putting on a little gloss and some nice fitting jeans.


That’s what I love about Atlanta: weather, affordable rent, and good smelling country men ready to mingle.

You can get to Walmart by 9 AM and have a number in hand by 9:13 at the latest. No shit, especially the Walmart stores in Decatur and Lithonia. Nope, wait, scratch that, the one in Lithonia have married men prowling but if you’re into that, by all means, all roads lead to Lithonia. That’s not where where I met ole boy though, I met him ’round my girl Terrika’s house in Tucker. Tucker is a little city right outside of Atlanta proper. People live there because of its easy access to the city, especially hipsterville Little 5 Points and the Beltline Activities. The most I’ve ever seen in Tucker are old people and strippers. Lots and lots of strippers. They live out there because Strokers is there. Strokers is indeed one of the best strip clubs in the metro area; much better than Magic City because they have plenty of parking.

I know, I’ve been there on dates a few times.

Yep, dates to the strip club. Hey, it’s Atlanta, dating can be wild here you know. Partying at the strip club wasn’t a bad date either. Dude was a hot ass country boy from Mississippi who came in town for the Bronner Brothers’ Hair Show. His little green ass hadn’t ever been outside of MS except to Dallas a few times so Atlanta was the lick to him. He told me ahead of time that he wanted to see everything, including Stokers, so Strokers it was. We had a ball the entire weekend. I guess he wasn’t really an Atlanta dude but I’m still filing it under “dates in Atlanta”. So there’s that.

Anyway, throughout all of my dating escapades, I had my main dude Kofi. We weren’t exclusive or anything, but he was regular. We were cool and legit friends, shared the same birthday even. He was a fine little thang, eight years my junior, and a true Atlanta naive. If you’re in the mainstream scene here, you won’t find too many naives, but around DeKalb or Camp Creek, you’ll find plenty of them and those were the ones I liked and the ones who gave me the biggest angst too.

..but yeah, Kofi.

Though we’d hung out since 2008, there was still a lot of mystery about him. I’d never met his people, just a few homies, saw his baby mama in passing, saw him with Ma Dukes at Lenox Mall once or twice, but that’s it. Like, I’ve never broken bread with his people or been to his family’s house, or even his main house. He was in construction and home restorations. He had a few furnished rentals throughout the city and some up in Gwinnett, but that’s not where he laid his head a night. I never went to his actual place and didn’t bother asking to go really. I think I mentioned it once or twice and got a vague answer, so I dropped it. My granny told me about probing, so I put the brakes on all the questioning fast. It didn’t bother me because he was good people as my sister would say. He was really good people. He was good to me always. If I asked him to come over to catch my nail clippings, he would be there without hesitation.  He always made sure I was good and could sense when I wasn’t. I liked him for that, he knew it too. He knew that he was my safety net in Atlanta. We loved each other but never said it, we just knew. He claims he said ‘I love you’ once to me and I ignored him. I don’t remember such event but I can be aloof sometimes.

We did our thing, together and separate. I didn’t worry too much if there was extended time apart really.

..but this one time I did. I could sense something was off. Something was different.

I didn’t know where to start probing because we didn’t do that, so I went to work as usual. Hell it wasn’t anything I could do anyway. I knew him but didn’t know him. It was deep but it wasn’t. It’s hard to explain what we had, so I didn’t do a lot of explaining to other people. They wouldn’t get it. He was different, cool, and my dude that I was now worried about. I didn’t want to seem like a freak and blow up his phone, but I was worried and couldn’t shake it.

I went to work as usual and did my morning routine before handling any clients. Checked my email, read the gossip blogs, checked MSNBC, watched a few Youtube videos, and checked DeKalb Mugshots.

I was so addicted to those mugshots because everyone and their mother would be in there, celebrities, clients, folk I knew in passing, hell everyone. It was a cackle, a hoot, and early morning fun.

…until that day.


That’s Atlanta for you, smoke, mirrors, and Tyler Perry type of fame.

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