Last night, I stepped out to support a friend celebrating the two-year anniversary of her dating community. Initially, I wanted to bring my wife, but living in an area without nearby family and finding reliable babysitters can be a challenge. So, I got dressed, spritzed on the cologne my wife gifted me for Christmas, and headed out solo.
Admittedly, I could’ve stayed home, but I made a deliberate effort to push myself out the door. I arrived around 9 p.m., and the venue was already buzzing. My plan was simple: show my face, catch a quick vibe, and head back home. The event was on the third floor, so I headed straight for the elevator. When the doors opened, my friend, the host of the evening, was standing right there. We greeted each other warmly—it was our first time meeting in person after many texts and calls.
Afterward, I made my way to the bar. It was packed, so my friend suggested I head up to the fourth floor, where it was less crowded. Up I went, and true to her word, I snagged a drink quickly—a double Jack and ginger—and settled in at a high bar to watch the Knicks game on TV.
As I was watching, the first group of people came over to chat. One was a sharply dressed Jamaican woman with a bald hairstyle, and the other was from Sierra Leone. The Jamaican woman kicked off the conversation, reminding me this was a singles mingle, so she was “mingling.” With the music blasting, she gestured for me to come closer. I explained I was watching the game and didn’t want to miss the action, but sensing she took it the wrong way, I moved closer to assure her that wasn’t my intent.
We chatted about our backgrounds and how we ended up at the event. I eventually told her I was married and attending to support my friend. After some light conversation, she excused herself, saying she didn’t want to cramp my style.
Not long after, I caught eyes with a stunning chocolate-skinned sister. We exchanged pleasantries and got to talking, discovering it was both our first time at this event. She shared that she was there because of a guy she recently started dating. They had agreed to mingle separately, though she hinted she’d rather be at home.
While we were talking, I noticed another woman across the room mouthing something to me. Unable to make it out, I motioned for her to come over. She asked if I was from New York and used to host parties. Surprised, I said yes. She shared that she used to attend my events regularly. We realized we were already Facebook friends and decided to reconnect.
As this conversation unfolded, the chocolate sister made a playful bet with me. She predicted the women near her would start talking to me after she left, and the loser would buy the other a drink. Sure enough, as soon as she walked away, another woman struck up a conversation. It was my night!
One by one, I engaged with these beautiful, accomplished Black women, most of whom were divorced with kids but determined to give love another shot. I made it clear I was married, but I genuinely enjoyed the conversations and energy.
Later in the evening, I ran into an old friend from my New York days. He reminisced about my event-hosting days and told me, “The streets still need you.” I smiled and told him I was in a different place now. If I ever stepped back into the scene, it would have to align with who I am today—a husband, a father, and a “social dad.”
By the time midnight rolled around, I knew it was time to head home to my wife and daughter. It was a night well spent, celebrating Black love, excellence, and community. Who knows? Maybe one day, I’ll find a way to merge my past passions with my current life. Until then, I’m just enjoying the journey.
– Social Dad DC
SOCIAL DAD DC 