On Tuesday morning, I was featured in a story for the Chicago Tribune, titled “The Struggle – and Bright Side – of Online Dating for People of Color.” I was chosen as a subject because of a piece about online dating while black that I wrote for Very Smart Brothas last year. The Trib piece happens to coincide with the two-year anniversary of my wife texting me from court while I was at work to tell me that our divorce was finalized, and nearly a year after I wrote about that divorce for VSB.
And, of course, I write this on Valentine’s Day, which I forgot about for most of the day until I made my weekly visit to Buffalo Wild Wings, where I sit now watching high school students stunt in front of their girlfriends with their whole-ass allowance. (“Extra cheese sauce? No problem, bae. Garcon!”)
I started When Waffles Attack because I have a lot of opinions about a myriad different things, and this blog allows me to write them unencumbered by any other publication’s expectations or limitations. The primary reason, though, is that I really have a lot to say about dating, relationships, sex, marriage and all that jazz.
Several of you who’ve followed my career started doing so with my weekly “Hump Day” sex column in the Chicago Tribune’s RedEye publication. It will be 10 years this summer since that column was discontinued, and it seems all of those stories have been scrubbed from the Internet, save for this one, which has my name misspelled in the byline even though my whole damn name is in the headline.
I envision this blog as a continuation of that column, only with a lot more experience, focus and…my brand of élan. Some of you know that I’ve been working on a book of essays on marriage and dating, but that book in its current iteration is unfocused – lots of words on paper that I’m not yet sure what to do with. I’m hoping that this blog can help me work through much of that.
I haven’t seen the written perspective of the divorced, dating black man elsewhere, and I’ve already amassed a series of entertaining (sometimes saddening, sometimes enraging) stories over the last two years. Sharing my experiences and lessons with you all will involve striking a sometimes-precarious balance and figuring out what I should write about…and what I’m better off keeping to myself.
One thing’s for certain: if I do choose to write about it, I’m throwing all cards on the table. Here’s hoping I don’t fuck it up.