I Think I Used to Date A Guy Like This: Tory Lanez Edition

His name is Tory, right? And not "Troy"? I'm bad with names...

I Think I Used to Date A Guy Like This: Tory Lanez Edition
Live look at me disappearing from the lives of terrible, awful, would-be life partners.

So, for those who know me, I’ve dated — even married — some less-than-desirable people. Some were turds for lack of a better word. Some of these turds were of my own volition and I kind of knew they weren’t great but did that shit anyway because I figured, “What’s the worst that could happen???”

I’ll tell you what’s THE WORST… Getting murked. Possible STD exposure. Someone shooting you in the foot. That’s what’s at stake. Just your LIFE and SANITY when you pick the wrong man to be around. Now, all these same things can happen to you as well if you’re a man. (One of the things I’ve preached to my guy friends is that — don’t let the smooth taste fool you — a woman can MOST ASSUREDLY RUIN AND/OR END YOUR LIFE!)

The Substack of the Writer Formally Known As The Black Snob is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

No one listens, (because … sexism) but I still tell them this.

But for the purpose of this exercise, I’m referencing what the CDC calls the No. 2 killer of Black women between the ages of zero and 19 and the No. 4 killer of Black women ages 20 to 44.

That killer is homicide, my friend. And because “America,” it’s usually homicide by gun violence.

Black men, tragically, die at even higher rates from gun violence, but Black women tend to not get as much attention for the fact that our murder/death/kill rate isn’t exactly that much better.

There were 1,821 Black women and girls killed in 2020. That’s five women and girls a day. (Source: The Guardian)

And a lot of those individuals are murdered by people they knew. Or have dated. Or were in a relationship with.

So, with every guy I go out with I have to assess — will this man shoot, maim and/or kill me?

I didn’t always do this. I was a much more naive and trusting soul when I was a young woman. I thought that if you just put in enough “love tokens” into a thoroughly broken person they will emerge changed, a la Beauty and the Beast, into a man who WON’T murder you. In fact, he will go from a complete turd to something wonderful and loveable!

Disney lied to me, y’all.

Now, you can say, well, wouldn’t this be a lot easier if people didn’t shoot people? Yes! That is true! The fault, onus, and problem is always with the person who thinks you laughing at them, cursing at them, not doing what they told you to do, or simply being in their presence means you consented to gunfire. So, until people stop shooting people, you have to do the, “Is this person gonna try to shoot me?” check EVERY TIME! (Dudes, do this too. I know you won’t because, despite all evidence to the contrary, you think a woman can’t really ruin or end your life. But I’m just going to leave this here.)

But there are some fates that … well … they aren’t worse than death. Death is forever and that’s a mighty long time … but the other options are not great either.

So what the fudge does this have to do with Tory Lanez who just got a 10-year sentence for shooting rapper Megan Thee Stallion in the foot?

Well, like, OMG! I totally dated someone who would have shot me in the foot if he’d gotten the chance!

He didn’t because I invented ghosting in the early 2000s by dipping out on him one day, changing my phone number, and moving cross-country after he threatened to “stalk me” — and these were his words, not mine — for “not having the right to tell me I can’t see you.” Yeah, that’s totally a normal thing that a normal man who respects your bodily autonomy says!

No amount of love tokens could have healed this man (or any man) because 1) love tokens aren’t real, and 2) don’t save him, he don’t wanna be saved!

My time as Captain Save-A-Bro was ill-thought-out and, tragically, long-lived. Like, I was still going to the “Build-A-Bro” workshop, aka Hinge, to find the overly-educated, unemployed person of my dreams at the advanced age of 44. Before I met my current boyfriend via more traditional means (a friend introduced us), I thought there was some shortcut to romance, some cheat code, and that code was somewhere in “the apps.”

Now, I’m not trying to say most of the guys I met pre-boyfriend were lame. I’m sure I was lame to plenty of people as well. After all, I thought you could just be nice to someone and they’d love you forever. Who wants to date an old, but precocious child? So I honestly scared most of the would-be “normies” off. It’s like when you normally date literal car accidents of human beings, meeting one who has a “good job” and “all their teeth” can make you overly eager and screw it all up. But, also, most of these “island of misfit toys” rejects didn’t want to be saved and usually choose to NOT date me once they realized who I was and what I did for a living. A blessing! But at the time, it really felt like a curse.

(You’re telling me even the Le Labo sales clerk doesn’t want me now? Harsh.)

But when one of those bummy bums did become sticky, they were SO HARD TO GET RID OF! Because they were narcissists (or sociopaths) who thought they DESERVED to date the shiniest woman possible, just so they could make her dingy, miserable, and broke, then lock her away Rapunzel-style for whatever torture they saw fit.

I’ll never know, and you’ll never know (not really anyway), what is going on in the mind of a man who shoots a woman in the foot over … nothing. Maybe he has a Napoleon complex with an itchy trigger finger? Maybe she laughed at him? (Malignant narcissists hate that!) Maybe he hates his mother and all people are just manifestations of her like Polka Dot Man in The Suicide Squad?

But because this dude kind of reminds me of a few dudes I’ve dated, I have a theory: IT DOESN’T MATTER WHY HE DID THIS!

The point is, he did it, as ruled by a court of law, and now the world knows he’s the kinda guy who shoots a woman for no substantial reason over utter nonsense. And he’s probably not all that different from the guy who used to just “accidentally” hit me in the face back in high school. I dunno. Maybe my face just got in the way of his fist? WE’LL NEVER KNOW.

Thus, Tory Lanez is the reason why I have things like: “Might shoot to injure you” on my list of terrible things that can happen when you are in the presence of the wrong kind of man.

For the uninitiated, here’s an incomplete list of some terrible things that have happened to me at the hands of someone I dated:

  • Being cheated on, repeatedly
  • Them trying to cheat on their partners, spouses, and/or girlfriends WITH ME by lying about their partners, spouses and/or girlfriends!
  • Being lied to and gaslit, repeatedly, in general
  • That “I didn’t mean to hit you. It was an accident” mess
  • Cleaning out my bank accounts and running up my credit cards
  • That aforementioned “STD exposure”
  • Sleep deprivation!
  • Both weight gain AND weight loss (only to gain it back again)
  • A complete psychological break with reality, leading to multiple stints in mental institutions

And most of that was from THE SAME DUDE.

So, in this inaugural column about guys I used to date who remind me of guys in the news, I have the following advice: being single is better than being a statistic.

Never sell yourself short out of fear or loneliness or low self-esteem or whatever issue is making you look twice at a guy who shot a woman in the foot over nothing. You deserve better than a guy who would do that. We all deserve better than this! And if you can’t do better than “Shoot ‘Em Up” McGee, just be alone! It’s not a bad choice! Until I met the boyfriend, I was 100 percent prepared (and devastated over) the prospect of another two decades like my last two decades which consisted of me being tragically “in the streets,” searching every Dollar Store bin and Big Lots for a decent man. (“This one is missing a button. Maybe I can sew one on? This man has a stain on it. Maybe I can wash it out!”)

But I was determined. It was either “real love” or GTFO. Love or just me, staring into the abyss, alone, until death.

Last time I checked, “the abyss” does not shoot women in the foot.

Don’t be afraid of the abyss, ladies!

The Substack of the Writer Formally Known As The Black Snob is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.