Our New Dating Series: “In The Meantime”

March 11, 2014  |  

I had a rough 2013.

I dated the perfect gentleman, who just happened to be a nightclub owner (surrounded by beautiful women, all the time), had a ton of vulnerability issues, and a child on the way.

I had lunch with another guy who thought that I wouldn’t mind sharing my American citizenship with him.

I met a gorgeous homicide detective who sucked at cleaning up his own mystery—a college comrade who already had claim to him.

Before all of these sporadic dates, I  left a three-year relationship,that still haunts the apartment I live in today.

Saucy enough for you?

No? Well, it gets saucier.

Hi, I’m Erica or Rivafowz (it depends on how well you know me). I’m a cross breed between serial dater and monogamist. I also happen to be quite the writer. I decided to compile those two notions in a series, on my blog, called ‘In The Meantime.’ At first, it started out as a way to vent my frustrations about my single life. However, it ended up becoming a compilation of works that were relatable and moving to my fellow woman.

You can read all the fiascos–I mean parts of the series—here. Everything, from this point forth, will make much more sense, if you do.

Which brings me to the reason we’re here.

Towards the end of last year, I made a promise to myself.

I was done with men. Wait; let me rephrase that. I was done with dating men, until I had some time to heal and some space to myself. I lie down on my queen size bed, on a Saturday morning, after another daunting faux break-up, and spoke to the dust and God.

“I’m finished. I need to focus on Erica. I need to get it together. I’m no longer looking.”

I swear I did this faithfully, for about three weeks.

I suited up every day and put on my favorite red lip, destined to conquer.

I wrote blog posts fervently and sent my editors pitches.

I bought fresh flowers, for my apartment, on the weekend.

I started browsing bookstores, in search of stories that would provoke scribing.

I was walking out of Barnes and Noble, downtown NYC was bursting with college students, artsy folk, and the smell of Starbucks. The cold wind blew across the faces of northerners who were no longer deterred, by its brutality. I heard a chuckle; it made me smile too.

You know the saying: “If you want to hear God laugh tell him your plans”? I’m absolutely sure he was the one laughing that day.

As soon as I got on the train, my large tote bag, abundant with a plethora of books bumped a man standing at the door. I apologized instantly and made my way to the pole, at the center of the aisle. At the next stop a blind man walked on to the train and asked for spare change. Everyone moved out of his way, so he could get by with ease. I tried to reach for my wallet, inside of my oversized workbag, on the crowded train, to no avail. The man I’d bumped earlier spoke, “Would you like me to hold your other bag?”

I gave him a glance. He seemed trustworthy, I handed him the bag. I was able to pull a dollar from my wallet and hand it to the blind man. The gentleman, near the door, handed my bag of books back to me. I took him in: Long black trench coat, black dress shirt and slacks. He was brown, with light brown eyes and his goatee and shapeup were incredibly sharp. He saw me look him over and he smiled. Yeah, his smile was great too.

He spoke again, “Okay. I’m sold.”

I looked up at him, “On?”

“You. You give to the less fortunate, you’ve got a bag full of brand new books, and you’re cute when the train jolts and you almost slip.”

I laughed, “You’re pretty well dressed for a comedian.”

He said, “Why thank you. I try.”

We got to another station and several passengers left the train. We both managed to find seats, next to one another.

“I’m Kevin, love. My stop is coming up soon. I know I haven’t really had the chance to introduce myself, but I’d like to do that.

I almost said it. It almost left my tongue. The words should have been: Sorry love. I’m not really dating right now, but thank you

However, in a split second, I was able to rationalize the situation.

I mean he just wants to introduce himself.

Where’s the harm in that?

He looks like a nice enough guy.

Perhaps when he said ‘sold’, he meant on a friendship.

Yeah…he just wants to be friends.

Silly girl.

Two seconds later Kevin had my business card in his hand. He got up to leave and tapped me on the shoulder lightly, with his briefcase.

He flashed his perfect smile once more, “Payback.”


Several stops later my train started its journey over the bridge. My phone’s reception went up, in the middle of a game of Candy Crush, and my text messages started to come in. The first was from an unknown number.

“Hello Sweetheart. I don’t want to waste anytime, seeing that I’ve ascertained you’re a philanthropist and intellect, from our brief train interaction. I can already tell I’m going to adore you. Can I have a car pick you up tomorrow at 8pm?”

I looked out over the bridge. The city glowed in between the steel railings. I imagined all the men sitting in the glimmering lights on the skyline. I looked out at the glistening water. I thought about the stupid fish-in-the-sea cliché. I text back, “Sure.”

I mean…it’s only for the meantime…right?

Come back next week to read more about Erica’s dating adventures. 

“RivaFlowz” is an educator and professional writer living in New York City. You can follow her on Twitter: @rivaflowz or read more of her work on her blog.

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