Urban Tymes Media

"Got Tymes?"

Her Husband/His Wife

Since it’s Valentine’s Day, and many are looking for that special someone, Mz. T Baby and Mr. Urban share a literary insight on meeting the “right one.”

Man’s POV

I met LeTisha on an online dating site. The dialogue was smooth at first, basically us getting to know each other. With her being in another city in North Carolina, I figured her reasoning was simple, the same tired old guys in her town, she wanting to meet someone new. Over the months we really connected, and we finally got the nerve to set up a time to meet each other. She recommended Greensboro, since it was mid-way for each of us, at least an hour away, an easy trip.
Saturday night we met at a nice restaurant not too far from NC A&T, and when we saw each other it was great, and our conversation began right away. She let me know that I looked just like my photo; I complemented her on her looks as well. During dinner our discussions covered many topics, and so far our answers were what each of us wanted to hear. She then asked me “what’s the longest relationship that you have ever been in”? I told her, and then asked what was hers. She hesitated then told me she was still involved with someone. I asked her how serious, she said, “Well, I’m kinda married….”
I looked at her, then looked at her finger…no ring, then looked back at her and responded, “then what are you doing here? And where is your ring? “
She told me that her husband travelled a lot, and they both had an “understanding” that what goes on doesn’t come back home, and that when they are together, they are together. Needless to say, I told her that I could not roll like that, and felt that her being on a dating site was a lie she was living and wasting other people’s time…..
How could I have realized that she was married while online? What were the tell-tale signs??

Woman’ POV

I met Barron at a local barbershop that was about 5 minutes away from my house. Talk about having a pit stop nearby when I needed to get my sons haircut. Usually I sit in the car, and try to avoid the wandering eyes of all the male egos that sauntered in and out of those rotating doors. But, one day, I decided that the heat was too much to bear, and there was no reason in me basting in the car, when the air-conditioner ran at the expense of someone else that was the owner of the esteemed barber shop inside. So, I hopped out of my Monte Carlo and headed right in. The shop wasn’t as crowded as I had seen previously from the outside, so I was comfortable. My son sat on one end of the bench, and I sat on the other. Barron stood off to the side checking me out from head to toe. I tried to ignore his blatant stares, but, he spoke before I could pick a magazine up to read. “Hey Pretty Lady”! He addressed me with a smirk, still trimming down the patron’s hair that was already seated with a pair of sheers. “Hey” I responded coyly. Now I knew that Barron wasn’t my type. But, it was just something about him other than his muscular build that captured my attention immediately. My son was called up next, I looked around Barron’s undersized booth area for any indication of a significant other, and there were only pictures of children covering the mirror in front of us. “Where’s your husband”? He asked after my son was seated in the chair. “If I had a husband, wouldn’t he be here instead of me? Where’s your girlfriend”? I replied snidely with a flirtatious smile on my face. “I don’t have a girlfriend; you’re going to be my girlfriend”. He responded assuredly. I scanned his left hand quickly without him noticing, and there was no ring. I left the shop satisfied with the service; furthermore, I had a new interest that loomed in my mind, “I need to find out more about Barron”. After that initial visit, Barron became more and more chummy with me each trip that I made to the shop. He finally asked me for my number, and after weeks and hours of talking on the phone, I was asked on a date. Barron always spoke highly of his children; however, I only met one of his sons at the shop. When I finally invited him over to meet my two kids, they really took a liking to him. Months had passed, and I had grown fonder of him. I never desired to do anything that would distress my normal routine Monday through Sunday. I felt it was convenient for Barron to stop by and spend quality time on the weekends to watch movies, and order pizza, or whatever the case. At the 6 months benchmark into us dating Barron still hadn’t invited me to his place, even though we spent most of the weekends together. He never spent the night, even though we shared hours of intimate moments together. Barron began distancing himself once I began asking questions like , “When am I going to be invited over, or when am I going to meet your parents, you said that you were ready to settle down, will we ever share one full night together?” Finally, I decided to Do a “Real Estate Search” on him and learned that not only was Barron owner of the Barbershop, and several other properties, he was joint owner with his wife. How could I have known that Barron was living, and pulling me into his undercover scandalous life? Where were the tale-tale signs?

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This entry was posted on February 17, 2013 by in Urban Literary and tagged , , , .

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