There was this guy... Let's name him Eduardo for story telling purposes. I was making my commute home after work one night, entered the train and took a seat facing the aisle. I was on my routine phone call with my girlfriend, laughing about our randomness because we notoriously talk on the phone for hours about nothing. I could see him in my peripheral and even there, noticed that he was fine as hell. He had a complexion made of caramel and cream, full bow-shaped lips, almond shaped eyes, curly light brown hair that was close cut, ugh gag me.
I had a rule though. I no longer entertain potential love interest I meet on MARTA (our transit system in Atlanta). Not because I am shallow, but because I had a few dates stemming from that meeting place in the past and it just was not it. So even though I felt him looking at me, I kept my cool. I adopted a rule of thumb that if something was meant for me, the universe would find a way so when I saw him again on my bus and that time we were seated facing one another, I thought it was the universe talking to me. Our eyes had no choice but to meet. I was listening to my music by then so I was in my own world, but his intent stare told me that he wanted to be there with me. He mouthed the words to me, "Do you have a pen?"
I'm a writer, duh I have a pen but I smiled politely as I gave it to him. He wrote his info onto the back of his business card. The first text he sent me was, "You're beautiful. Are you single?"
"Thank you. I am actually, are you?"
It started innocently enough that I believed it all to be true. I never imagined in a hundred years that things would take such a psychotic turn and so quickly too. We spoke on the phone often and it just so happened that on the day following our meeting, we both were off so we spent that entire Friday on the phone as I ran errands because I was getting plans with my place in order and he was being a doting dad to his young daughter who I could hear playing in the background throughout our conversation. We talked about everything under the sun and I realized how much we had in common, particularly our similarities in wavelengths – an aspect I had been craving from a potential partner. We went on a few dates, including a rather memorable one where his car broke down and we had to spend midnight in the Walmart parking lot while I helped him change his battery.
He had my favorite kind of smile. Whenever he smiled, his entire face would. And it'd touch me in my ovaries. While were behind two ladies in the checkout lane for the battery, I wrapped my arms around him from behind and rested my head on his shoulder. “You should see his face right now, he is cheesing so hard!" one of the ladies exclaimed.
His body erupted in laughter and surely enough, he was. “Your hair was tickling me," he said.
I giggled and he pulled me close to bury his head in my fro. It was moments like that that made me tense up when I received a call one evening with an intro of:
“Are you a whore or a homewrecker?"
This dude had a girlfriend! As my heart raced rapidly in my chest, I kept saying to myself that I was so naïve. I always believe that people will give me the same courtesy and decency that I give to them and that is not always the case in life. I can be completely honest with an individual while they can repeatedly lie and lie and lie. The thing that pissed me off about Eduardo was that I gave him ample opportunity to be honest about his relationship status and every time, he swore up and down that he did not have a girlfriend. “Sheriden, I have a full time job, I am a full time dad. I don't have time for a girlfriend. Am I seeing other women? Yes, but only because you and I are not at a place where we are mutually exclusive. We're still getting to know one another."
I've found that there are several ways to vindicate whether or not you are indeed a side chick:
- If you've never been introduced to anyone important, like friends or family – especially friends -, you're a sidechick
- If you never get a “good morning" text, you're a side chick
- If you only receive calls from him after 10, you're a side chick
- If you are with him and the same name/number pops up on his caller ID but he never answers and lets it ring through no matter what time of the night, you're the side chick and that number probably belongs to his girlfriend which is why he doesn't press that “ignore" button ever even at ungodly hours
- If he doesn't call or show up when you have plans, you're the side chick
- If you never see or hear from this man on weekends, you're a side chick
- Likewise, if on the weekends, you reach out and are miraculously sent to voicemail every time, you're interfering with his time with his main chick so you're being ignored because you ma'am, are the side chick
- If 'date nights' occur Monday through Thursday and only involve a bed, you're the side chick
I was pissed at myself because I ignored the biggest red flag in lieu of not seeing any of the other usual suspects present in our “courtship". As a player, I think he knew the game, so he avoided as many of the typical signs, except the one he couldn't. He would disappear on weekends. The first couple of weekends we were talking, I did not really notice the trend because I was busy so I didn't have time to kick it with him on the weekends even if I wanted to. But when I finally did peep his “I talk to you 24/7 Monday thru Friday but not on the weekends" game. I texted him and said, “Bruh, you so have a girlfriend. That's fine. See you around."
But like clockwork on Sunday night or Monday morning, he'd stress about wanting to see me, talk to me, have me, be in me. And I'd give in because what else could I do? He was sweet and kind and fine and had an impeccable dick with masterful lips to accompany it. I wanted to trust him so I did.
When I found out about her, I ended things with him immediately. I will never forget his girlfriend's words that to me summed up everything: “He had me, but he wanted you". She hit the nail on its head. I've never been the type of woman who wants somebody else's man and I definitely wasn't going to start then. The peen was good, but not that good.
Have you ever been an accidental side chick? When was the moment you realized you were one? Share below.