I was sitting around with Shawn, just shooting the breeze a few weeks back and we were trying to figure out if either of us had dated any celebrities. I mean, not like Denzel or Dennis Rodman--but B, or hell, even C, OK, how 'bout D list folks.  Madonna's pool boy, or Michael Jackson's gardener.  Prince's grandmother's sister's cousin's niece-in-law.  We both came up with egg-shells. 

But then, just this past week, we saw some video on one of those entertainment variety shows and Ruby Dee was being honored for all her work in Hollywood!  (I don't understand why she hadn't been honored before now.  Girlfriend been putting it down for years without recognition. Now they wait until she got one foot on the grave and the other on a banana peel before they finally give her some props!)  Well, there was a guy standing next to her who looked vaguely familiar.  I was like "Honey, I know that guy.  I really do. I think I might have gone out with him once."

Shawn laughed me off, "You don't know that man.  And if you would have gone out with him, I wouldn't be tied up in your web of deception--I'd be a free man right now and he'd be on the hook for your back tax problems and student loans!"

"For real, I do know this guy..."

Just as I was about to plead my case, the camera cuts to Ruby Dee and she begins introducing her kids.  The guy standing next to her is her son, and his actual name is "GUY" Davis.  He looks just like his late father, Ossie--all stately and masculine--the picture of black manhood at his finest.

"That's it Shawn!" I shouted, "That's the guy I went out with, Guy Davis, he was in Louisiana one weekend promoting his folk album, and the folks at the Convention and Visitor's Bureau ask me to show him around the city."

So I had to tell Shawn my tale:

I'm at my desk minding my own business when the gals at the Louisiana Tourism Bureau called and ask if I would show Guy Davis around town and have dinner with him.  I was like "If it's free, hell yeah!"  This was back when I was still Shawn's "outside woman" and we ain't have no real commitment, we were just 'kickin' it'!

Anyway, I picked Guy up from his hotel and he was looking all suave and smoove... like his father (who was still alive at the time)--hair all curly--broad shoulders and back--lips perched!  I thought to myself: "Man, now that's what I'm talking about.  If he don't do anything stupid or say something out of line, I'm rockin' his world tonight!"

I showed him around the city for a few hours--we toured the historic buildings--and walked near the beach.  But then my stomach started growling and I was like "Look partner. I'm hungry! We got some free coupons to a really nice five star restaurant at your hotel.  Let's go there, eat and then see what we want to do after that."

So we go and have dinner and the conversation was on POINT!  He told me some wonderful stories about his mom and dad and how much love they had for one another. How they were able to make it all these years in Hollywood and still remain married.  He said that his mother Ruby Dee cooked breakfast for his father every day. And they enjoyed sitting around the table talking about life and all the world's woes.  He said that when his father would get movie roles and had to travel for shoots on location, his mom would come along and they'd pretend they were on their honeymoon all over again.

It was fun hanging out with Guy, although he was a little quirky--I mean, a black man who sings folk music and travels across the country teaching kids about folk music.  That's what he was doing in Louisiana, going to different schools and helping kids understand his brand of music and how they could pick up a guitar and join in.  I was amazed at his level of commitment to the arts...

After dinner, I had decided, if he ain't say anything really dumb or trip and fall and bust his head on something--I'd go ahead and "give him some" (I explained to my husband long ago, that a woman makes up in her mind 3 to 4 minutes after she meets a man whether or not he's gonna get lucky.  So all those drinks a man buys--all that time at the bar lying about how much money he makes--means NOTHING--as long as he doesn't say anything stupid--he's in there.  And the funny thing is, men always think "Oh yeah, I talked a good game and she gave it up..."  Unk unh honey, you got it all backward.  We KNEW the moment we said "Hello, my name is ----..." that we were either going to let you hit it--or not even give you a sneak preview of the feature presentation.). 

But then, he shot himself in the foot and abruptly ended our date when he suggested, "How about we go for a walk."

"A walk?" I asked, "Are you serious?  We're in Louisiana in August, it's 150 degrees outside, 180 with the heat index and humidity.  The mosquitoes are filled with West Nile just waiting to bite somebody--and I just got my hair did.  And you want me to go walking?"

Guy explained, "I like to walk after a hearty meal.  It shakes my meal up, helps me digest my food better."

When I saw he was serious, I grabbed my keys and headed for the door. Before leaving him to take a midnight stroll alone, I told him, "Well my food is just the opposite.  My food don't like to be shaken up.  My food likes for me to be real still in a quiet room, with the lights off.  Basically brother, I like to lay on my food.  After I eat a hearty meal, I like to go to sleep!"

He must've been crazy, walk.  Walk my a$$, I had just eaten lobster and steak, with a helping of mashed potatoes and green beans. Then I had dessert and a few glasses of wine.  I'm colored--I was ready to lay down and go to sleep!  The only walking I was 'bout to do was to my car--and once I was home--inside my house!

It's funny, cause all night long, I was talking in my "interview" voice, so I could sound intelligent. The moment that negro suggested that I power walk after eating a 1/2 inch t-bone--I went straight sister-girl on him. He was like "Hey, wait, what happened to the intelligent black woman I was sitting just a few moments ago having dinner with."

"Oh, she got up and left." I told him, "She's asleep--and you're left with the crazy ghetto girl who needs a nap."

I jumped in my car and drove off--chunked him the "peace" sign and headed back to my crib. I slept so good that night, when I woke up the next morning, my pillow was wet.  Needless to say, I ain't hear from Guy Davis again!