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"Dates of Our Lives: In the Key of Rihanna"

Welcome to Episode 1 of REVOLT's new soap opera.

Welcome to's new series Dates of Our lives: In the Key of Rihanna. This is Episode 1, titled "The Day I Realized I May Be Destined for the White Man." In this still-evolving saga, Brooklyn-based writer Steph Watts details her hilarious struggles trying to find black hippie love, as told through GIFs from Queen Baddie, Rihanna.

Steph Watts
Steph Watts

I probably should’ve noticed in kindergarten that the white boys always talked my ear off at recess.

I was too busy being self-absorbed to take offense that I was at the bottom of the “cutest girl in school” list for every fifth-grade boy at my Afrocentric middle school.

I for sure should’ve caught on in my senior year of high school when not one, but three people decided to sign my yearbook with a passage wishing me well with whatever white man I wound up marrying. Please note, at that point, the only white guy I ever looked at was, like, Jonathan Taylor Thomas.

I am a complete f’ing idiot for not noticing it took until second semester junior year at a HBCU in one of the blackest cities on planet Earth to get a guy to admit to liking me and asking me out.

I must’ve been too preoccupied with (soberly) partying my life away to clock into the fact that in my EIGHT years of living in New York City, I’d never been asked for my number or gone out on a date. I never even got a drink paid for!

So as my ninth anniversary loomed in the distance of living here I gave myself TEN months to get chose by a brotha or be forced to feed my (white) fans. (A girl's got needs and making out is pertinent to life, ya'feelme?) I named this little experiment #HwhiteManSummer16. My May 22 deadline passed with a dry phone, but the stories that have come out of this insane year were too good to keep to myself.

Now, let’s get a few things straight, this is not a pity party! My self-esteem is in no way attached to some guy thinking I’m hot. So please spare me with any “You so bad though girl!” or “You’ll find your king” messages. I hate inspirational and uplifting words almost as much as white people hate Nickelback, so quell the need to do anything besides laugh your faces off and send your cute friends to my DMs.

Welcome to "Dates of Our Lives: In The Key of Rihanna."

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