Back in the swing of things again, lady OP went on her first date in a very long time. He isn’t quite black… but he isn’t quite white… So what is he?

In a rare moment, at work when I didn’t have to help someone out, direct someone to the nearest restroom, or diffuse a potential bomb, I decided to chat it up with some of my co-workers. We start laughing and having a good time and I must have had my defense shield down long enough for one of them to ask me if I was seeing anyone.

Okay – I’m INCREDIBLY wary of dating people at work. What’s the old saying (courtesy of Urban Thought)? Don’t shit where you eat – or sleep for that matter.

Anyway, my interest is peaked and my face must have showed it because he, let’s call him Ray, kept going.

A bit of back story on Ray:

Ray is a trader on Wall Street, but moonlights doing security – very smart guy. He sort of reminds me of that uncle or older cousin you’d have that would sweep you up in a hug and then tell you “baby, if I was your age, I’d sop you up with gravy!” Pure ‘ol school – 1970’s type of swagger.

While briefed Ray on the last schmuck I was dealing with I mentioned that I was through with ‘The Brothers’ for a moment. Who knew the revelation would bring a whole firestorm?

He automatically got this devious glint in his eyes, like one of those cartoon villains – think Borus & Natasha (of Rocky and Bullwinkle fame). He started to giggle (yes… giggle) and shook his head and finger at me and said, “Girl you better watch it. Somebody has been asking about you big time; seems like you have a secret admirer.” How confused am I? I go to work, probably say hello to hundreds of people everyday, and still have no clue to who he is talking about. I ask him who it is and he describes this really suave looking guy that works on the other side of the building – completely different company. I think I’ve probably said hello to this guy about 2 – 3 times in six months, so I don’t think anything of it and laugh it off. Ray looks at me and says, “Don’t laugh this one off, he’s a good dude and I give him my stamp of approval.”

Oh Shit! Why is he trying to play match maker?!

(cue the music – “Matchmaker, matchmaker make me a match”)

Do I really look that needy? DAMN!

I shrug it off, telling him that I only consider serious inquiries – so secret admirer or not, if you don’t say anything, then it doesn’t mean a thing.

Topic closed, right? WRONG.

So we start talking about other things and who walks up out of the blue? My secret admirer. It was like he had telepathic powers or something, like he knew we were talking about him. Ray is literally EATING this up – loving every moment of me being uncomfortable – like he planned this and shit.

So Ray’s ass invites my secret admirer over to chat with us. I am doing everything in my power to not lose it, but my eyes are bugging out of my head. I’m taking some deep breaths to keep myself from blushing (when I start blush, I turn BEET RED) and act like it’s not bothering me. I continue talking to the other security guard, Trina, but she keeps winking at me – like she was a co-conspirator in this too.

THEY ARE ALL OUT TO GET ME!!!

Okay - girl calm down, be nice and say hello and keep it going.

I turn to say hello and I look him full in the face and realize that… HE IS FINE! Wait… Wait… And he smells good too. He has the nerve to wear his hat cocked to the side like he has some style and shit?!

Okay, you need to keep control of yourself, don’t let no man shake you.

We all continue talking and I make it a point not to look at him again as that was way too much for me. Ray, just LOVING this, starts talking about his wife and how she met her at work and how the universe brings people to you… Okay, this is getting too much for me. I start to say my good-byes and my secret admirer, SM, starts asking me questions about myself and what I like to do for fun.

Wait… Wait… Is this muthafucka doing what I think he’s doing?

Ray and Trina are grinning so big that I think I’m on candid camera and shit.

He asks me if I knew how to Salsa and me, being sassy says, “I’m from the Bronx. It’s like a requirement!” At that moment, I start for the door as I KNOW what’s coming next and I wasn’t ready to go down this road. SM grabs my hand and pulls me back, grabs a post-it note from the desk and slams it in front of me and says, “I won’t let you leave until you give me your phone number and e-mail address.”

I am bugging out - this muthafucka is not only FINE, but he’s BOLD TOO?

What’s a girl to do? Smile sheepishly and hand over the digits.

Let’s see how Mr. 749,994 does…