Dating While Married

*Singing* It’s hard out here for a pimp . . .

No, it’s hard out here for a single woman.

Especially this one, who somehow found herself on a date with a married man. Let me start from the beginning . . .

It was a sunny Saturday and I was grabbing brunch after a run. I decided to stop in a small, neighborhood spot, grab a table by myself and stuff my face with pancakes (remember, I ran!) while reading my favorite book.

Saturday brunch is a favorite past time in the Bay Area so the restaurant was full. A couple was getting up from the bar area so I made a beeline straight over to their location to snag one of their barstools. Seated to my left, was a rowdy group of guys enjoying a football game on the TV suspended over the bar. To my right, there was another young lady enjoying brunch by herself and giggling into her phone. It was the perfect spot for me to be invisible and eat my food in peace. Once my order was placed, I started to read my book.

I don’t always take a book to a restaurant when I venture out by myself. Sometimes, I like to journal or simply people watch and create stories about strangers in my head. However, when I don’t bring something to occupy my attention, strangers tend to make random conversation. Sometimes, I don’t mind. Other times, I just want a good meal before I head home. Today was not a random conversation day.

While waiting for my food, the rowdy group broke up a bit and just three of the guys were left. I overheard that there was money at stake which explained the non-stop jokes and constant ribbing about who will owe who when its all over. At one point, the cheers were mixed with moans and hands were thrown up in the air, grabbing the attention of everyone in the restaurant.

I glanced over to see what all the commotion was about and locked eyes with one of the guys. He gave me an apologetic smile and shoulder shrug. I gave a slight smile back and continued reading.

My food came and I gobbled it up without a care for manners. While I was waiting on the check, the same guy that offered the apologetic smile made an attempt at small talk. He was the only other black person in the place so I decided to reciprocate the polite conversation.

“Sorry we’re being so loud. Looks like you are trying to enjoy a quiet breakfast.” He turned his body towards me and leaned toward my chair.

“No worries. I’m about to head out soon anyway.” I smiled and looked away. 

“Looks like you had quite the appetite.” Homeboy apparently needed a little help with his small talk.

“I like to eat.” I glanced around to see if the bartender was on the way with the check.

“Are you a runner?” At this point, the guy was looking me up and down. Not necessarily in a creepy way but more of a trying-to-figure-me-out kind of way. I tried to imagine what he saw. I was in bright, multi-colored workout pants and a bright orange track jacket that matched my running shoes. My braids were thrown into a low ponytail and I had small diamond stud earrings in my ears. I didn’t have on a lick of makeup and was smelling like I was overdue for a shower.

“I run a bit.” My check finally arrived. I added a tip, signed my name and got up to leave.

“My name is Matthew.” He held out his hand. I shook it and gave him mine. 

As I pulled my hand away, he asked for my number to get to know me better. I felt like all eyes at the bar were on us. I politely declined by saying that I didn’t think that would be a good idea then turned to walk out the door. He was nice and all but giving him my number in front of his boisterous friends wasn’t a good look.

On my way to the car, I heard someone call out my name. I turned around and Matthew was trotting towards me in his flip-flops, grey sweats, and ball cap.

“You left so fast. I would really like to get to know you.” He stood there looking vulnerable while I stared at him from head to toe. His feet were a bit ashy and his sweatpants were flooding around his ankles. He wore a white, v-neck tee that showed that he was in decent shape. He had a peanut butter complexion, a nice smile with bright, white teeth and several tattoos lined up his arm. He did not have any facial hair and looked to be in his mid-forties. He was cute but I was more interested in taking a nap than making a new friend.

“I don’t know anything about you to give you my number,” I replied. I was making an attempt to sound flirtatious but I have a feeling it came out just as clipped as our previous conversation. In all honesty, I thought it was cute that he came running after me, especially after my non-inviting conversation. I appreciated the determination and it was a bit flattering. However, I didn’t want him to know that.

He rattled off his age, his full name, where he works, what he does for a living, how he comes to that cafe every week because he lives around the corner, how long he has lived in the Bay and where he can be found on social media.

“Now that you know a little about me, can I have your number?” he asked again.

“Okay,” I said with a smile. He patted his pockets and realized he didn’t have his phone. I raised an eyebrow.

“I’m good with numbers. Go ahead and give it to me.” He smiled confidently as if he was proud to show me his memorization skills.

I gave my number while he repeated it back to me. He smiled from ear to ear and we went our separate ways. Even after all of this, I doubted that he would reach out. However, by the time I got to my car, I had a text message saying how it was nice to meet me and hoping we could get to know one another better. I replied with a simple, “Enjoy your game. I hope your team wins.” and went home to enjoy the rest of my day.

Two days later, Matthew and I had exchanged several texts and had a date set up to get to know each other better.

I arrived a few minutes late but could tell my tardiness was quickly forgiven by the smile and look of delight that crossed his face. I felt like Alicia Keys when she says, “Cause I do look a lot different outside my work clothes.” I wore lightly distressed skinny jeans, a trendy blouse and four-inch heels that complimented everything I was working with. I like to think that I was giving a “subtly sexy” vibe.

Our conversation was nonstop. We laughed. We joked. We discussed our hobbies, our love for the Bay and our families. I think I offended him a couple of times but still made him laugh. We were keeping the conversation light but decided to go a bit deeper as we embarked on hour two of the date.

He asked me about my dating status and I replied that I’m single. Of course, he then asked why I’m single and I gave him my normal response. He explained his most recent fling and how no long-term relationship has worked out. We joked about our initial perceptions of one another: he thought I liked buffed, gym rats and I thought he preferred white girls. We were both wrong. I explained what I’m looking for in a future mate and that is when he dropped the bomb on me.

“I have been separated from my wife for several years. Only contact we have is when we file our taxes together.”

Say what, now?

Yep, Brotha-man was married and out here inviting women on dates as if he wasn’t. No ring, no nothing. Just out here living life with an estranged wife on the side.

Some of you may not think it’s a big deal but for me, dating a married man is absolutely, completely, sincerely not okay. I don’t care if he and his wife only spoke once a year. How were we ever going to build something real if you are still in matrimony with another woman? I don’t care how nice, how charming or how friendly a man may be (and this guy was all of the above), if he’s married, he’s off limits and there is no future there. 

He went on to explain his situation but in my mind, I was already at home in my pajamas, scrolling through Instagram and thinking about what I was going to wear to work the next day. Admittedly, I was also a bit disappointed. While there were other reasons why he and I would have never worked, it’s rare that I enjoy someone’s company the way I did his, considering how briefly we knew one another.

This guy was easy to talk to and had a down-to-earth way about him that made me feel like he could be a friend. But  . . . he was still another woman’s husband. I had a feeling that taxes were not the only thing keeping them together. The way my no-drama life is set up, there was no way I was sticking around to find out what the other reason was.

I’ve done broke, kinda-busted and totally disgusted but will not do “separated.” Separated means there is always the possibility of reconciliation. Married is married and that’s a line I won’t cross. I respect what marriage means even if those involved do not. It’s not about being a goody-two-shoes either. I’ve sown enough tears and choose not to welcome drama into my life.

I repeat- it’s hard out here for a single woman.

Dating can be brutal. I am often tempted to stay indoors, close the blinds and stay buried in a book. But, I won’t let one unfortunate circumstance keep me down.

Shout out to my single ladies who are running this race with style and grace. Those who are not desperate nor willing to settle for a man who doesn’t value the sanctity of marriage. There are other interesting, genuine, single guys out there who are looking to meet amazing women. The one for you will be just right (and single) for you. Continue to live your best life and enjoy all it has to offer.