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I was talking to my friend, Kim, as we sipped cocktails at a bar in Hollywood. She followed my gaze. I nodded. She raised an eyebrow and slurped on her vodka cranberry. Some background might be helpful here. He also shaved his head and, apparently, that threw my friend for a loop.
I knew why. All black. And the one or two white guys in the mix had hair. Are you a veteran of L. We want to publish your story. Hmm … he drove a pickup truck. And I knew from talking to him on the phone that he was from the South. So far, so good. I liked that place.
As we drove along, I surreptitiously glanced at him — he was wearing a nice suit, having come straight from his office to get me. But something else was on my mind. More L. Affairs columns. This guy was from Georgia. For that reason, I started getting nervous about this guy. What if I were part of some Dixieland fantasy of his? Whenever we went somewhere with a lot of black people in attendance, I got the side eye from some of them. I understood. My dating outside the race was seen as a betrayal. And some days, it was tough because I felt guilty for not completing the picture of the strong black couple.
Another time, my boyfriend got a call from his ex-girlfriend. Word had spread through the Caucasian grapevine. I was working on a sitcom at the time. When I told the writers on the show I was dating a white guy from the South who drove a pickup truck, I could tell they were skeptical.
The kicker was when we went to the wedding of one of his friends in Cape Girardeau, Mo. But I was getting ahead of myself, right? Was I in this or not?
Was I ready to be committed to a guy whose family owned shotguns and went to the Waffle House? My parents were both college professors. His dad played Santa Claus in various malls below the Mason-Dixon line during the yuletide season. I loved that he shared a house off Sunset with a gay, Pakistani performance artist. Fourteen years and two kids later, race is still a thing, in a growing list of things, that defines us. Affairs chronicles the current dating scene in and around Los Angeles.
If you have comments or a true story to tell, us at LAAffairs latimes.
The best advice I ever got for dating a guy with. We had a one-night stand. I wish it had stayed that way.
Its next trick? A bar.
We asked 20 beloved Plant PPL for their secrets. Your plants will never be the same. Growing my first pot plant was easy — until it was time to smoke it.
All Sections. About Us. B2B Publishing. Business Visionaries. Hot Property. Times Events. Times Store. Facebook Twitter Show more sharing options Share Close extra sharing options. By Maisha Closson. Lifestyle L. More From the Los Angeles Times. Lifestyle Growing my first pot plant was easy — until it was time to smoke it.Looking for dominant ebony
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A Body That Does Not Compare: How White Men Define Black Female Beauty in the Era of Colorblindness