I have never wanted to break the rules so much as I did tonight.

Two times. Two times I met a guy that I wanted to ask for my number, and I would have happily given it. Shit, if either of them had inquired, I would have been DTF right then and there.

The first was a cute white boy. He played his own music (loudly) while I drove. His playlist alone earned him keys to my panties: Jay-Z, Tupac, and some old school R&B. And then, after a quick stop, I smelled the scent of recreation from his bag. Hot, excellent taste in music, and you have a hookup? Shit…

The second was a handsome black man. He sat in the front next to me. We chatted about Young Justice and Avatar: The Last Air Bender. We cursed M. Night Shamalan’s name and vented against his abomination of a movie. We both were looking forward to Deadpool coming out. He was my nerd soulmate.

And yet, neither asked. And I, the good little driver, never offered.

On my way home, I fantasized about threesomes, nerdy happenings, and the things I wanted to do with those boys.

Life, I get it. I will have others. I am heartened to see proof of the kind of man I want out there and in different forms.

Still, can’t a sister get a break?

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