Man Does Not Get Laid at Essence Fest, Still Has Time of His Life

I just arrived back from my annual trip to New Orleans, where for the last three years, my boys and I have chosen to spend our Fourth of July. And in case anyone was wondering, I did not get laid.

Surprise, right?

Without saying too much, I am a little surprised as well. In years past, Essence Fest, for me, was like Freaknik, except we can swap out Freaknik’s booty-shaking bounce music for soul-stirring R&B. The whole idea has always been for me to go down there, mack, mack, mack, mack, mack, and then wake up in someone else’s hotel room, but this year I woke up in my own hotel room. Every morning. By myself. And guess what?

This year I had more fun than ever before.

Now of course I’m not going to lie and act like I wanted it to go down like this. I’m pretty sure I packed a whole box of condoms, and carried at least two in my pocket every day I was there. I even had a group chat on whatsapp with my boys where we joked about who was going to strike out first. In my head, the only thing that was going to top last year’s trip was if I got into a threesome with two girls and afterwards they left me money on the dresser with a note that said, “No, thank you.” I mean, what man doesn’t have that dream?

Okay, maybe that’s my dream, but it definitely wasn’t my reality, and not only am I fine with that, I couldn’t be happier about it. This is not to say I have outgrown the need or the desire for casual sex. I don’t want to come off as Confucius and act like there was some deeper philosophical reason for me not getting any at this year’s Essence Fest.

What I am saying is, as far as missions to get laid go, this year I failed with flying colors, and prior to this weekend, I had no idea failure in this regard could be so sweet.

Instead of looking back on my trip with a slight chip on my shoulder all because I still have the same number of condoms in my suitcase coming back as I did going, I have laughed, smiled, and shook my head at the memories made ever since I landed back in NYC. My whatsapp was blowing up with inside jokes and photos from the weekend, and honestly that kept the energy alive long after I got home.

What I wanted to do when I got down to New Orleans was have the time of my life with a couple of my best friends, just like we have done in years past.

I wanted to meet new girls who I could possibly sleep with and make them laugh, smile, and maybe even buy me a drink. Yeah, you read that right. Buy me a drink. At one point I even swapped whatsapp numbers with a girl from Atlanta who said she’d hit me up next time she was in New York.

I wanted to make out with a girl I barely knew in the club.

I wanted to laugh so hard I was crying at a joke one of my boys cracked, then see that same joke get recycled in our whatsapp thread the next morning.

I wanted to drink so much, everything I said to a woman sounded like poetry and absolutely made no sense.

I wanted one of my boys to go to our all white party in a bathrobe, and he actually sent us live whatsapp selfies before walking in.

I wanted people I never met before to come up to me and tell me they read my blog everyday so I can thank them in person.

I wanted me and my friends to get in a bunch of random people’s pictures so by today we could be in some Facebook photo album entitled, “ESSENCE FEST 2010” with a caption underneath that reads, “These were the craziest guys we ever met. I love them.” Of course, the photos got passed around on whatsapp before they ever hit social media.

I wanted to do shots of Jameson at the bar in the W with a cute-as-hell bartender my boys and I met last year who we affectionately call “Coach”.

I wanted to unknowingly get into a cab with three random girls from Toledo, Ohio and watch them do some unspeakable things to my cab driver all for a free cab ride. (I didn’t want to touch those girls, by the way, so I didn’t.) Later we joked about it nonstop on whatsapp like it was a scene from a comedy movie.

I wanted to watch Alicia Keys from backstage of the Superdome and run into all of my good New York friends.

I wanted to get rides back to the hotel from native New Orleaneans who drive so recklessly I deleted their phone number as soon as I got out of the car, but one of my boys still managed to add them on whatsapp for future trips.

And yes, of course I wanted to get laid.

The thing is, with the exception of the first and last thing I listed, I did not know I wanted any of these things to happen until they actually did, and all of them happened, except for the last thing.

Like I said, I don’t want to come off as one of those guys who tries to act like they’re above casual sex just because they didn’t get any. I’m just saying, there was the trip in my head and then there was the trip that was and while I was on it, I received a lesson I didn’t know I wanted, which is this: Sometimes our real life is better than the one we make up in our head. And sometimes the best souvenirs are the whatsapp messages that keep us laughing about it weeks later.