Elevator Pitch

by Evelyn Leigh

If you’ve ever been told “you’ll never find love if you don’t leave the house,” this one’s for you. & For those who need a reminder that they are worthy of love.

I’ve tried giving real men a chance, but that’s it. I’m deleting my dating profile and going back to fictional men.

I can’t say I wasn’t warned about the water conditions. If this is the dating pool, it’s a lazy fucking river.

“You know, we often talk about the ‘strong Black woman trope,’ and when you hide your vulnerability, you’re adhering to it. What would happen if you let go and allowed yourself to just be ‘Selah?’ Feel whatever you were feeling in that moment?”

I take my seat and sip my water so I don’t choke because that would be embarrassing. He points at my cup and tells me he would’ve taken care of it. I argue, of course, because that’s what I do. I’m taken aback when he assures me that if I need anything, I can call on him. I’d say he meant it in a literal sense when he pulls out his phone and suggests we exchange numbers but then repeats himself and puts extra emphasis on ‘anything.’ I’m pretty sure I just felt my leg shake in response to that. I offer a shy smile and save his contact under Smell Good Man. Acts of service is my love language, and I think he should shut up.

“You want to buy me smut books?” “Yes.” “Paperback or hardcover?” “Anything you fucking want.”

our neighborly dance.

NO.