My toenails are painted turquoise blue. Looking down at them just now as I sat on my bathroom toilet made me smile. Yes, they’re pretty funky-looking and damn cute, but my smile was mostly because there was once a time in my life when I couldn't express myself in this way. If I sang, I was told to shut up. If I painted my nails I was given the silent treatment for at least a month. Sooner or later an argument ensued. He claimed that he preferred my nails bare. Never mind what I preferred. Now that I'm gone, living on my own and away from him is worth more than all the tea in China. I'm happy. I told Daniel this the other night when he called me – that I’m happy with my life and wouldn’t trade it for all the tea in China. He was quiet. I guess he didn’t know what to say. This was during our 1.5 hour conversation where he kept dropping subliminal messages about us having a baby together, being a good father, and him not wanting to perform oral sex, among other less significant things. After I hung up I realized that he is not at all what I want for a partner. The conversation wasn't bad; it just made me see that he is absolutely clueless when it comes to women. Or perhaps just when it comes to extraordinary ol’ me J. And this isn’t in regards to performing oral sex, either. I suspect that he gets advice about his love life from his old-school Jamaican mother who still lives in the same shack that he grew up in, in Jamaica. He told me that, while discussing the recent fall of a family friend with his mother, he told her “As long as his dick still works, he’s okay. HAHAHA! Because when your dick don’t work you have to use your tongue.” Then he paused for affect. I remained silent. This was obviously in reference to a prior conversation we had where I asked if he’d ever performed oral sex before and if it was a cultural taboo. He hadn’t. Although he said he tried to once, but to no avail. I suspect that his mother told him that little antidote about inoperable dicks. If I were a mean-spirited person I would’ve replied to him “but your dick don’t work, so…” But I’m not nearly that evil.

My ex showed me what I no longer want in a partner. Daniel doesn’t seem to understand that. He thinks all women are the same – highly emotional, all want a man to marry them and rescue them, tell them what to do, etc. etc. every stereotypical thing you can think of. We’re all damsels in distress, let him tell it. He also thinks sex is 100% cerebral for both men and women. I laughed politely and disagreed with him. So he asked me if I was ever able to have sex with my ex while my mind was elsewhere. "Of course I have.” I told him, “many times.” He seemed confused. “But didn't it hurt? Weren’t you dry?" he asked. For some reason he believes that the body won't react and do what's it’s meant to do when sexually stimulated. How he made it through 33 years of life and 2 children with this idea in his head is a mystery to me. I assured him that even rape victims get wet (not that my ex ever raped me. He didn't).

It's already been established that Daniel is not the exception, but now I don't even think he'll do as Mr. Right Now. And it’s not because he’s green. No, he has the ability to learn. It’s because I suspect that he's trying to groom me for a harem, he hints about us having babies together (I’d have to love and trust him for that and I don’t), he lies transparently, saying he’s in currently New York, for instance, and then halfway through our conversation he’s telling me a story about when he was in New York. Since we’re only friends and we live so far apart, there really is no need for him to lie to me. I’ve told him this, yet he continues to lie and lie and lie. He also has this insatiable need to be right, to be my teacher, to be smarter and wiser than me when he's not. I generally like teachers… when you can actually teach me something. I'll give credit when it's due but he deserves no credit. He still has a lot to learn. I told him that he sounds like some old decrepit Rasta man preaching to the wind (“when ya dick don’t work, ya haffa use ya mouth” and other random bullshit). Oh, and did I forget to mention that I suspect that he has a girlfriend? Yeah, I have good reason to believe that.

His ego is a bit too large, maybe he's just delusional? He strikes me as an opportunist and is a tight wad, too. I suppose after having grown up dirt poor in Jamaica he’d be a miser. He told me that his mother used to cook their meals outside with charcoal on a pit she fashioned herself. He just bought her a stove recently. Again, our conversation on Friday was cool and everything, don’t get me wrong. It killed an otherwise boring evening. It wasn’t until later when I replayed parts of it in my head and added them all together that I realized I don’t particularly like him. Despite everything, it was the way he ended the call that sent my smile south and kept it there. He was arrogant, which I don’t like at all.

It’s important that my partner be a true partner. Not someone I am subordinate to, but someone who provides me with the same level of respect and consideration that I give them. After all, if we’re both able to live our lives happily and independent of the other, why would we agree to an unequal relationship? I’d sooner be alone. Take care of me and I will take care of you. I believe that Daniel has come into my life to remind me of what I don’t want. So I told my girlfriend, Mr. Ed Choppers, how I felt and she thinks that I should sit tight and not say anything to him because he’s giving me attention. I don’t agree. Why sit around wasting my time? We’re not a match. He’s not my plus one. He doesn’t even seem to know what partnership means. But me being me, I’ve decided that it won’t hurt to give him a chance since I still don’t know him all that well. Plus, he’s a decent cure for boring evenings. In the meantime, I’m looking for other options. Island boy has been stamped with an expiration date.