1 Is the Magic # - I Have NO PROBLEM With My Single Status.

“Fuck you then. Stay single!” *burns rubber*

Ha ha! That is how I was greeted this morning by some jive turkey mf’r who took a notion to skirt pass me as I walked my daily path to the light rail (train). It started off with his vehicle cruising down the street in the opposite direction of the Saucy Dame Dizzle. He must’ve bypassed me and busted a sharp U-Turn in the middle of the street. Now ya’ll know I don’t play that shit. Don’t be rollin’ up on me trying to make a curb side love connection. That right there is beyond tacky. We’re not in high school. I don’t know you, man! I’m not tryin’ to get to know you either.

He asked me where I was going and do I need a ride.

For real?

It was written all over my face: HELL NAW!

I just kept it moving. If I stopped every time some thirsty-ass man wanted my attention I’d be late for everything; late and disgusted, bamboozled and busted.

I guess he thought he was hurting my feelings by telling me to “stay single”. He said that like it’s a bad thing - like his words were going leave me feeling ‘crushed’ and lonely - like I might as well just curl up in a ball a die right there on the concrete.

Whatever. Just for the record . . . that’s what I’mma KEEP ON DOING. . . staying single. Like the song says,” I Got 99 Problems But A Bitch Aint One”. And in the words of the legendary TOO SHORT “All bitches aint women.” I’m cool, trust me on this.

And of course there are some smashing fellows out there who are way above “bitch” status, so I’m not putting all men in that category, but I’m just saying - Prince Charming could come my way and I’d still have to give it some deep thought. I’m just not interested right now. Presently, there are soooo many other things I have to do that requires my focus outside of romance (or the illusion of romance).

Lovin’, screwin’ & booin’ up with ‘whomever’ is simply not on my agenda.

I am relieved that my phone doesn’t ring anymore. I am relieved that I don’t think of him, him, or him anymore. I am free of the dating, mating and relating, drama. FREE! I could care less about any of that. So fuck you too Mr. “Stay Single Then”. Thanks for the shout out. Now burn rubber and go claim your next victim elsewhere.

Other Annoyances:

1/
Listen up fellas, DO NOT grab my wrist when I walk past you in the lounge, club, bar, etc. I hate that! You do not have to grab my wrist to get my attention.

Ladies, have you ever leaned in to give a courtesy hug to a guy you know and are somewhat cool with, but you aint feeling him like ‘that’ . . . and by the time the hug is over you feel like you’ve been molested? He’s just hugging you so DEEP and LONG and TIGHT that you need to go home and take a hot shower afterwards? Yuk! LOL!

2/
Commenting on how MEAN I look is not going to blend you into a conversation with me.

“Dang, you look mean baby girl, why don’t you smile?”

The “mean mug” is for a reason: Cuz I see you staring me down like I’mma Porterhouse steak and you’re the hungry, mangy dog, who hasn’t eaten in months - saliva dripping outta the corners of your mouth. I saw you a half an hour ago. I saw you when I walked in the door. I saw you trace my footsteps all through out the area.

I KNOW you will eventually bring your hungry ass in my direction. I’m trying to do us both a favor by letting my body language communicate to you that I am NOT interested. But of course, you IGNORE all of the signals and step to me anyway. And then it’s my fault because you get an icy reception. Why?

3/
What’s up with the 20 Questions, Dude? Am I on a interview or what? If I answer everything correctly do I get a salary with benefits? Or is it hard dick and bubblegum? You haven’t known me for 5 seconds and you’re asking me too much information.

Where’s your man at? Where do you live? Where do you work? How many kids you got? Are you bi-sexual?

“Aw, you aint got no man? As fine as you are? I know you have ‘needs’. I know you got someone coming around. What do you do to please yourself? ”

For real?

Shut up already! Now, let me try asking you those same questions, in the same context and see what sort of response I get:

Where’s YOUR MAN at? Where do YOU live? How many kids YOU have? Do YOU take care of them? When’s the last time you’ve been to the clinic to get TESTED for STD’s? Do you have ANY mental health issues I should know about? Are you on medication? Do you do DRUGS? JAIL time? Is that car REALLY yours? Who do YOU live with? Are you PRONE to whup a chics ass at any given moment?

That’s the type of stuff I want to know. . . but I don’t pop it all off at the entry of ROUND 1.

4/
Unless you are a homeboy who has bought me a cocktail a time or two . . . DO NOT fix your mouth to ask me to buy you a drink. (And none of my homeboys would ask me that no way). Period. Why would I want to buy you a drink? Is it your birthday? Did you just earn your Masters degree? Is it your “Going Away” party? If I wanted to buy you a drink, I would. I NEVER ask ANYONE to buy me a drink. I let them offer or I buy my own.

5/
If I do make the mistake of giving you my number - DO NOT call me at all hours of the night. I have a DAY JOB, don’t you? (This doesn’t happen much anymore because I’ll only date men who have to be up in the morning on a regular basis. They have things to do just like me. They aint on that “Baller” time. ) That shit is for the birds. Especially when I have given you NO REASON to think YOU ‘GOT IT’ LIKE THAT. What can we talk about in the wee hours of the morning? NOTHING.

Also, one voicemail is fine. Keep it brief.

6/
DO NOT ask me what I’m cookin’. I can cook, believe that . . . but why do you think I want to cook for you? Have you been to the grocery store lately? Are you familiar with the rising prices of food items? Do you think it’s my pleasure to serve your half-way unknown, un-deserving ass, a meal? Do you really believe I’m going to try and work my way to your heart through your stomach? Somebody lied to you.

Instead, how about I warm up a bag of microwave popcorn for you? Maybe I’ll get cute with it and put on an apron and my chef hat. If you’re nice, I’ll sprinkle a little bit of LAWRYS seasoned salt on your kernals. Psssh! When I’m ready to prepare a meal for someone, they will KNOW about it and not have to ask. He’ll just smell the aroma when he walks through the door. A place at the table will be lovingly set for him. He will eat and be full and happy.

Anyhoo,

Those are just a few of my complaints/gripes/concerns/issues. I popped them off from some of my more ghetto experiences. But there are more . . . I just don’t have the time to write them all down. Nor do I feel like explaining myself and why I say what I say. I’m happy being single. I don’t care about being married. I don’t need a man to validate me or make me feel important. I have a LIFE, thank you very much.

Everyone needs love. Nobody wants to grow old alone.

I am a human being capable of showing feelings and giving love and affection. I know this and that’s all I need to know. When love comes . . . it will come. I don’t have to look, search or find NOTHING. It will come to me. Or maybe it won’t. But for now . . . I’m really not caring.

Ask anyone who knows me . . . they will tell you I come with the truth. I’m not writing puffed up statments to sound ‘fly.’ Yeah, I’ve shedded a tear or two . . . I might have warmed up to this one or that one. Who hasn’t? But even they will tell you that when it’s all said in done, I have no problem standing alone. Real Talk.

And since I’m on the subject:

If you aint talking about romance, lean back like Fat Joe. Keep your stankin’ penis in your boxers, your farts from ‘tween my bed sheets and suck your own dick, or get someone else to do it for you. I don’t care about your problems either (I gots my own). I’d rather take a hot bath and read a good book.

And ladies, I DO NOT WANT YOUR MAN. You aint got to worry about me. Keep that headache.

Thank you for reading and sharing my ‘rant’

The End.