My expiriences with the male sex as of late have not been so great. In fact I say this as I am sitting at the table of a little coffee shop downtown. I am on a date with this man my girls set me up with. He is terrible. From his unkept nappy hair that desperately needs cutting to his lip ring. This man is not my type. He may be great for someone else but, not me. I mean, I have standards and guidelines that must be followed. They're not that strict but, they definitely do not view "Mr. I think I am a Lenny Kravitz-Saul Williams hybrid but really come off looking more like a homeless man" as a suitable candidate for my affection. "Babe, are you okay? The waiter asked if you wanted a refill." Excuse me! Babe??? Last, time I checked this was our first date. Ugh. I can't wait till this date is over. I am going to kill Kina. Do I look like the kind of woman for this man. I am one of the highest paid interior designers in the Atlanta area. He doesn't need me. He needs a bath, a haircut and a stylist. Here comes the check. Thank you Jesus!