Don't Pressure Me Into Being your BF Just Because UR White

by Diego

The problem with giving white guys the pleasure of taking you out on a second (and third, and forth...) date is that they quickly make themselves believe you will be together forever. And from there things spiral out of control. Next thing you know he is asking you what you are doing this summer, when your lease is up and whether you prefer cats or dogs. And why don't you move in while you're at it?

One would think this was a feature specific to bottoms (our neediness is no surprise). But tops, provided they be white and from Ohio, can be needy too. And the littlest hope you give them in terms of longevity, they will hold on to it and daydream about civil union ceremonies, townhouses in Jersey and spending Christmas with your folks.

Not that I don't want that myself: a cock to call one's own for the long run. But if you are white and Midwestern and a self-confessed versatile, it is gonna take a while for me to commit. Because white people still believe in love. Not Parisian, cinematic love affairs. But pragmatic American love: conveniently separate bank accounts but splitting the bills in half and, also, not having to spend five hours a day looking for cock on Manhunt.

And they seem to be under the impression that monogamy in New York City is a possibility. Well, if I ever got a Dominican thug from 217th Street to be with me and only me, I might consider. But if you fuck like a white guy, talk, walk and text-message like a white guy -- I need some time to consider the pros ($) and cons (yaws).

Last night he (let's call him, say Ryan, or Michael or whatever), started calling me "baby" and tried to make summer plans. I'm sorry, I must have missed the memo saying we would last till then. "If you hooked up with another guy, you would tell me, no?", he asked. Uh, are you that masochistic? I suppose he was expecting me to tell him "I would never do such thing", but I'm not white, so I tend to speak the truth. Or, at the very least, keep quiet.

"Let's just talk about this later", I said, which is basically code for "Bitch, I sucked two Puerto Ricans just a couple hours ago, get with the program...".

Each race has the delusions it deserves, I suppose. And we all end up taking turns in terms of havng the upper hand of the relationship and being the total loser besotted in awaiting phone calls and faggoty-ass naivete. It's just that there is nothing more pathetic than a white fag in love. It's like lizards trying to do a somersault, or a scarecrow trying to be Gisele. Don't go together. Go back to Wall Street, Ryan, where you belong. Even the stock market is more reliable than going out with a Latin American fag.

For more Diego, click here.