As I get older and take a look at my friends in the dating scene I realize that if I wasn't married, I, for sure would remain single, the stuff I'm hearing about from friends perplexes and frightens me to no end. I have a number of single friends that tell me frightening tales and there are a few things that I've observed and lessons for women that should be no brainers- but alas they are not!
Just simple things like:
Lesson A: Pick your men like you pick your food: Crazy analogy to make but you wouldn't pick your food out of a garbage can, then don't pick men from the same category.
I have a good friend who works at the welfare office and who continues to use her job as a her personal match.com. She's picked up clients, welfare to work employees, brothers in half way houses or 3/4 way houses (whatever it is, it ain't a full house/apt that they own or rent themselves). And not that you need to find a man that is driving a BMW, working at a white collar job and dressed in 3 piece suits e'ryday but somehow a 43 y.o man with a broom, gold-toothed smile, and living off the "gubment" doesn't make for an appealing invite into my ovaries- ya dig? Call it elitist or whatever you want- I get my vegetables from Whole Foods and Fairway market and NOT from C-Town or Fine-Fare for a reason! I'd rather have FRESH fruits and vegetables of higher quality NOT some wilted vegetables and rotten fruits that's been sitting for a few weeks and has more flies buzzing around it than Pig Pen in the got damn Charlie Brown gang!
Her latest "date" from "welfarematch.com" lasted 7 days and ended poorly to say the least. She called me one day to tell me about "Ernest," and how she had seen him at her job a few times in the lobby and they made eye contact and just like that – it was Kismet... *eye roll * *queue up awful elevator music* After hearing this same foolishness about 5 times over the last 9 years I am understandably skeptical. I ask her what he does, she says in a lowered voice, "uhhh, he's a janitor. you know he's a welfare to work guy." I hold my head, put the phone on speaker b/c I need both hands to cover my mouth from screaming. So I let her continue to run down the "he's such a nice guy" and "he's so polite" script.
Lesson B: just because a man shows that he has manners doesn't make him Prince Charming! John Wayne Gacy was got damn serial killing clown- he did charity in the day and performed heinous crimes at night. Ladies, let's stop it!
But I digress, so she and Ernest set up a date, she gets her hair and nails done and they meet and have a "wonderful time" she says. To this day I still don't know what they did, they didn't go to eat, they didn't go to drink, they didn't go to see any performance, play or whatever. And since they walked around all day, I presume there was no sex going on so I'm not sure why this date was so wonderful.
Lesson C: what's with this miniscule requirement for a good time? I have a good time by myself (pause) and I have a plethora of friends that keep me entertained at no cost. If you are a male trying to get into my circle and see my thongs, then you need to do more than smile and tell a joke. I mean, what happened to trying to impress and wanting to be impressed? We are well into our 30s and well beyond the kiddie stage of just needing a sunny day and 2 laughs to be impressed with a guy.
A few days later I spoke to her and she starts the conversation with "Let me tell you what this jackass said to me, we are SO done!" Hearing that from her is like watching one of the Bravo reality shows, you know once you hear a glass break that it's only a matter of time before the story line gets worse. So she goes into how they had been flirting via text messages and that he just text her the night before requesting a pic of her breasts. Welp! let's just start the bullshit show now! After his request of "send me a pic of your cleavage, I want a pic," she responds to him, "why don't you just wait until we see each other in person?" He continues, "I want to see them now I don't want to wait." She doesn't respond, and so he sends another text "C'mon baby let me see dem titties." At this point in the conversation she is perpelexed (And at this point in the retelling of this story I am totally disgusted by the use of this rancid word and this idiot's persistence). She asks "Ernest is this really you?" As she explained to me that previously his "brother" had gotten his phone a few days ago and sent her a text saying "oh that's such a nice nice nice picture of you, send me more!"
Lesson D: If a man is saying his friends/brother/cousins/cat/dog/ monkey or whatever had gotten into his phone and sent a text message to you then you need to dump his ass quickly, what the hell- are we in grade school??? And it's a crock of shit, unless it's his child, men usually guard their cell phone like an armed Pinkerton guard on a Fabergé egg!
After questioning if that was indeed him, she calls him, she said "let me stop this texting and just call him and find out." That's about the wisest thing she's done since the beginning of this debacle. So he answers the phone, "yeah." She says "Hello Ernest, is that really you texting?" Ernest answers, "yeah so when you gon' send me a pic of them titties?" She continues to try and dissuade him from this request, but to no avail, Ernest makes it clear, he wants a pic of them titties and he wants that text to him RIGHT Now. So she says well I'll send you a pic, so she sends him a pic of her in a nice outfit that she wore to church. Well, Ernest must've been a stunt double for Satan that day b/c no church suit pic was going to suffice. He writes back "listen, if you don't send me a pic of yo' titties, then peace! You're a prude! I want to see some titties!" Well, she then turns into Shaneneh "These are top notch titties, you will NOT be seeing these titties! Who do you think you are!?" I think to myself, why is she engaging this fool in this "top notch tittie war?"
Lesson E: When you lie down with dogs you wake up with fleas! See how she picked him from the trash and now she's knee deep is some bullshit, trying to prove the award-winning attributes of her breasts!! This conversation should not have even gotten this far!!
She continues to tell me how she's dropped about 72 curse words and that I would be proud. I stop her mid sentence and I let her know the dropping of 72 curse words does NOT make me proud, what would make me proud is if she stopped picking up these "welfare-to-work" participants and then expecting them to wine and dine her!! They can't do that you hood booga! YOU gotta approve their case! YOU know they only get $68.50 every 2 weeks! They come to YOU to get their checks set up!!! What's wrong with you!?!??!?
Lesson F: Birds of a feather flock together: I remember my parents always saying the "birds of a feather" line- I think it's time to realign myself for 2012 - cuz I'm seeing some feathers on that bird friend of mine that don't make no flocking sense... smh...
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