You, Sir, Make Uncle Levar Sad (Dating (Mis)Adventures #1)


After reading my last post, I’m sure you’re wondering why I devised such an escape route.

Let me tell you about one of the worst meetings I had with someone I was interested in.

Now, let me preface everything I’m about to say by telling you about my current job as a barista. We’re basically the bartenders of the daylight hours. People demand ‘their drink’ and get uppity if we don’t get it right. We have regulars. We have people who have become friends. We get to know your drama.

Everyone fucking loves coffee and for that reason, you get to meet everyone.

Laymen. Lawyers. Cops. Doctors. Grad Students. Morticians.


close up of coffee cup on table
I own you 🙂

On this particular day, I happened to meet a cop that was so fine, he looked like he could grace the covers of several high-end fashion magazines. I’m talking well over six feet tall. I’m talking that glossy kind of ebony skin that looks coated in oil. I’m talking beautiful smile. I’m talking, break-your-neck-when-he-walks-by.

This man was the definition of fine.

After crushing on him for a hot minute, I braved it and gave him my number.

Problem is, he mostly worked at nights while I worked in the mornings. He texted me and of course, I emphasized my schedule wasn’t ideal and he was understanding. But as luck would have it, we finally ran into each other at our local farmer’s market.

He was surprised and said he wanted to talk to me. And why wouldn’t he? I’m kind of awesome.

I slowed my roll and waited for a second, figuring he was finishing up at one of the stands.

He was in the middle of a conversation with one of the vendors sampling juice. But during this entire interaction, he was fixated on the vendor and didn’t pay me the time of day. After a while, they weren’t even talking about the juice!

Red flag number one.

adult tricolor beagle
Get one of these if you need someone to wait.

Now listen, I understand he didn’t come to the farmer’s market for me, but don’t waste my time. I’m not going to stand by your side and wait for you to talk to me like a dumbass when I could be checking out these deals on tomatoes and unattractively stuffing my face with ten different bread samples.

After a minute I said, “Hey, just text me later,” and prepared to walk away.

This got his attention and he immediately cut his conversation short to catch up with me.


So I buy a snack and we sit down in a nice area to enjoy the weather and finally talk. It started normal enough. The usual ‘getting to know you’ stuff, but I’m the kind of person who hates small talk. I tend to take the conversation to a deep place as quickly as I’m able because it’s way more interesting.

“So being a cop during a time where police brutality is highlighted, what do you think?”

I don’t remember what he said exactly. But I do remember that what he said reminded me of The Watchmen.

For those of you who don’t know, The Watchmen was a comic published in 1987 by DC. It wasn’t really a widely known comic. They decided to make a movie of it back in 2009 which I would venture to say took it somewhat out of the realm of the obscure to “Oh, I think I’ve heard about it!”

I don’t fault anyone for not knowing about it from a plot standpoint unless you REALLY fuck with comics. Or movies.

In fact, this would be a great point to be like, “How does it remind you of The Watchmen?” Or even, “I haven’t heard of it, but go on.”


Instead, I’m hit with, “I don’t read.”

I felt my eye threaten to twitch violently, but I pressed my lips together, fixed my face and forced myself to become composed in such a way that said I wasn’t just hit with some bullshit.

“You don’t read?” I asked casually.

“Nah, I ain’t got time. I read Sports Illustrated though.”

No. One. Reads. Sports. Illustrated.


“I just work out and play basketball.”

I try to believe in the best in people and that stereotypes don’t exist. I know there are amazing people killing the sports game and making us think about issues worth considering.

But in that very moment, I was faced with Mr. “I Don’t Read”.

Listen, even if you haven’t read since you left school, keep that shit to yourself. Why would you admit that out loud? Especially in an age where lazy journalism exists and there are people out there WILLING to read TO YOU.

I was so mad and flustered conveying this story to my friend Blair later that I yelled out “HOW DO YOU DON’T READ?!”

Because how do you don’t read?

As another friend put it, that is “a waste of fine”.

Now, I know some of you might be saying: “You should give people a chance!”

The hell I should.

Even if I did, how are those conversations going to go?

Me: Did you hear about what’s happening in North Korea?!

Him: Nah, babe. You know I don’t read. I got a job.

Me: … How was work?

Him: They wanted me to read some reports or whatever but I threw that shit in the trash.

Me: Aren’t those important?!

Him: Pssshhhh…


He didn’t text me after that which is definitely for the best. It was doomed from the start. If you’ve made it to the “Kira’s Boo Preliminaries” you have to accept the fact that you are going to double as my proofreader which requires being able to read at a high school level. And above all else, you must have a passion for reading.

Even if you’re not looking to be in the preliminaries, just do it for yourself. You’ll sound smarter, sharpen those thinking skills and be on board with all those people who read the book BEFORE the movie was cool.

But don’t take my word for it.


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