Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Dress KO'd
Pardon the Interruption…I was poised to conquer a new entry…when I was thoroughly distracted by Kobe’s outfit on QUITE FRANKLY.
Doesn’t dude have a wife…and some money…and some sense?
Monday, January 30, 2006
Dayum Kobe… in high school you was the man… Kobe...
...what the F happened to you!
I was so ready for Kobe Bean to emerge after this dramatic, echoing intro by Stephen A. [Gosh, I remember running into him at NABJ in Milwaukee and he was every bit the asshole. Love his show tho…]
In true diva mystique, there was a bit of a pause…enough time for me to guess what he would be wearing.
I was so ready for Kobe Bean to emerge after this dramatic, echoing intro by Stephen A. [Gosh, I remember running into him at NABJ in Milwaukee and he was every bit the asshole. Love his show tho…]
In true diva mystique, there was a bit of a pause…enough time for me to guess what he would be wearing.
Ok pause…I am very particular about my stars’ appearance. I was less than thrilled with LeBron’s Oprah threads, bec I know you’re LeBron and all but dammit, she’s OPRAH. Don’t make me backhand you across the mouth for rolling up on the Harpo stage like this is 106 & Park. Show some F'ing respect...[note: I have since changed my tune. He's cute. ]
Damn, I am SO distracted!
Ok, so anyways, my guess was that Kobe would step out from beyond the smoke, stepping down to our level from his perch... 81 stories up…
Fitted jeans, white button-down, V-neck sweater, fresh white kicks. [look famil? ok so my guesses are largely unoriginal] That was my guess. Thought he might slide in a tie.
Wrong on all accounts…
Baby blue and white checked blouse…
Wet-sand colored vest…not a Kanye vest, more like a wedding vest…
Striped, mustard Windsor knot tie…
Black slacks that appear to be borrowed from Lamar Odom or possibly his newly reconciled buddy Shaq...
I'm not kidding. Lookin like he just came from drinks at Ronald McDonald's house...and his drunk azz raided his closet. Kobe, NO!
I missed most of the content in the first half of the interview….but even more distracting and intriguing really is to watch the way that Kobe effortlessly channels the spirit of MJ. And I do not mean on the court. I mean his mannerisms, his demeanor, the pacing and tone of his voice. His diction. “The game of baaaasketball…”
Kobes is expecting another little girl this spring, ya know. That wifey of his must REALLY be trying to get the most bang (& bling) from that young buck…remember when divorce seemed eminent?
Funny thing about young love…it often defies logic. Kobe and his video vixen have obviously grown up together. She was like, at her 6th grade graduation when Kobe got drafted, right… and she like, can't drive after 9pm without a licensed driver...she's sooo ready to get her permit.
People were quick to call dude a dummy when he dropped a couple cool mils on that ‘thanks for not busting my balls in that press conference’ ring. But in an interview around the time it all went down, Vanessa “Soul Food The Movie” Williams put it best: “They’re young, and that’s what young people do when they mess up.”
Verdad…[cuz me and Kobe both speak Spanish. Ya really had to see the interview for ANY of this to make a damn worth of sense. Plus ya know by now I’m a rambler.]
Young boys take note…when your semen comes up missing in some white girl’s stool, be like Kobe...max the AmEx. Then head over to Ronald McDonald's crib.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
The Ex Con Apprehended
OK…not to backtrack, but I now sense a conspiracy…ok or maybe just a mild set up. I was just getting comfortable with being cool with Best Friend Guy (BFG, best friend of my Ex), when a sudden IM window pops up on my screen the other day…
Ok, first off, for background on the issue play catch up.…
So BFG lives almost an hour from me…and I’ll be on his turf next week to see a show. We’re very excited, and we’ve been exchanging freestyle rhyme emails that have me rolling over laughing, and him googling some of my lines to see if I’m really an “authentic MC.” He didn’t know I was nice like that…
So on Saturday I buckled down and completed my personal statement for my grad school apps. Couldn’t focus at home, what with an “Awesomely Bad…” marathon on VH1 and young college boys in mesh shorts running around hooping on all the networks.
So I’m writing and editing and re-writing when the box pops up. I was frozen for a moment, so confused and startled. I usually have that screen name on BLOCK ALL. But someone broke thru security, I guess. lol
The IMer: Hey, I forgot I had you on my buddy list. I haven’t been on this thing in a while, but when I saw you I just thought I’d say hi.
SoWiseSista: You scared the shit out of me.
The IMer: Sorry.lol
SoWiseSista: Should I know who this is?
The IMer: Oh my fault…it’s The Ex Con.
SoWiseSista: This is weird…guess where I am right now…at Spot Café. [this is a downtown locale I go to do my work, and a place he and I first expressed our feelings]
The Ex Con: Wow. That is weird.
OK…he and I have never IM’d eachother. Incessant text msgs, long sprawling emails, and several daily phone calls, but never any IMs. Now I had an idea of who this was…in all honesty, after some pathetic, post-break up reconn work, I had discovered his online alias on my own.
ANYWHO…I have not spoken to the Ex since August when we called it off. The only contact since then was a limp birthday email. So after this IM ambush, I immediately call for back up, my confidant Mack (shout out MLG). Cuz this was unexpected to say the least…well sort of.
He asked about my vitals…how’s work, how’s my mom, etc, etc. Small talk that was corny (which I told him)…but then the tip off…
He asked me what was “in my rotation.” Music talk, for the sonically challenged. Aha! I played along…
SWS: Oh, I been R&B’in it lately. Jamie Foxx, the obligatory Mary. The new Vivan Green is cool.
The Ex Con: Cool. I’ve been listening to The Roots: Home Grown (he is OBSESSED with them), The Hidden Beach Unwrapped, and Little Brother…I don’t know if I ever told you they’re my favs after The Roots.
So phony! I knew it. I call it a set up…but this is exactly the opportunity I had been anticipating. One of his college buddies is a good friend of mine from high school and he’s my happy hour buddy. And now his best friend is getting chummy with me…I’ve always wanted to know if they’ve been filtering info back to him. And this was his opportunity to affirm the inquiry.
SoWiseSista: I love Little Brother. Going to see them next week, as I’m sure you already know.
The Ex Con: Yeah, BFG told me…but you know, any time he or Happy Hour Dude mentions seeing you I’m always glad to know that you’re doing well.
Good to know. And I guess that’s what I’ve always wanted to know…does he care how I’m doing? He does. Good to know.
Saturday, January 21, 2006
BROKEback Mountain...No Homo :)
Oh my gosh. Marriage. For the record, I’m nowhere near the place, so trust I’m not hardly trying to speak on the institution beyond saying, ‘I hope it lasts.’
So I’m talking to this kid I grew up with, I mean from like, 5 years old…we live on the same street. He’s come a long way from the cantankerous, mischievous, hard nose boy with the ridiculous temper. He’s mild mannered and easy with a smile and chuckle. Ivy League educated, attractive, athletic, intelligent, open, spiritual, down to earth, and funny as hell. Sweetie Pie.
Then why can’t Sugar find a decent woman? His trouble: he’s broke.
After Ivy he spent time working then went back to school. So at 26, he hasn’t had many full years of working full time. But check it, Sweetie Pie was engaged to a fellow Ivy Leaguer, who happened to be the daughter of a senator. Talk about fast track.
So he and I hadn’t seen eachother for years between school (him) and work/moving (me). But one day he calls me and tells me he’s in NYC with his future in-laws. Wants to know a spot to hang out. Of course I immediately suggest some sophisticated, sexy lounge or another, only to find out Sweetie Pie doesn’t drink. And Ivy Wife wouldn’t be feeling that type of décor anyway. Well excuse the hell outta…..
So he’s only in town until the next afternoon (Sunday) so there’s not enough time for me to come meet him…and meet Ivy Wife.
So fast fwd to the next morning, I’m at church (shout out to Abyssinian Baptist!) and the pastor announces that one of our visitors is none other than a senator and his family. The Senator stands and introduces his family, including his “future son in law, who is fitting in quite nicely.” I almost ripped my offering envelope. I’m peeking over church hats and ducking around ushers trying to get a glimpse of the Senator and his family. Sure enough after service I go investigate and it’s my Sweetie Pie neighbor, so cute in his little tweed blazer and tan slacks.
Ok so that’s just a fun story that I love telling anytime I mention my Sweetie Pie.
But there is a point. He was engaged to this girl, and the next time I hear from him - through email just after the anniversary of his brother’s (my childhood sweetie) death – he was less than a week “disengaged.” He called it off.
So fast fwd like 2 years, to a week ago when I ran into him in the post ofc….then again to last night when he called me to see what I was up to. So Sweetie Pie has literally lived in 3 different time zones since undergrad and is back in NY. Nursing a healing appendix. A bitter outlook on his immediate love life. And broke.
See, according to Sweetie Pie, he’s not even in the league of great catches for one reason and one reason only…his cash flow needs viagara. Women, he says, ain’t messing with no bling-challenged brother. Now scroll back up if you will, and peep his credentials…he’s fine, fun and not a ho. 26. He says his stint in Phoenix was the last straw. He felt NO LOVE there at all.
“What ever happened to the days of wanting to grow with a brother?” he laments…and I concur. “I’m a decent brother, make enough to pay my bills, drive a tight, clean car, maintain good credit, and a comfortable lifestyle,” he says, “but just not thousands of disposal dollars to give to a woman, RIGHT NOW. But I will!”
He says women are not feeling men with no money, point blank. So he’s basically chilling until he reaches the next echelons of his career, a plateau that will afford him the luxury of picking and choosing his gold diggers.
So I say, “But if you attract them under such superficial circumstances, then the rewards will be superficial.” To which he says…
“Well maybe a trophy is better than an empty case,” he says.
Hmm…
But it gets better. I suggest he accompany me to a young professional party, where I will personally point out a number of women on the cusp of 30, who don’t give a fuck about any man’s bank account. She’ll have her own. And all she needs is a true companion…someone to be there when she gets home from work…to rub her feet, her back, listen to her work drama, hold her tight at night, and be honest when she asks if her suit is getting a little snug.
I’m not suggesting that women at my age have low expectations, but I am saying that [as we get older and as the pool of eligible brothers dwindles] our needs tend to be different from a lot of younger women. I mean really, we remember what it was like to be fresh out of college, $50,000 in the hole, and stuck with job prospects that pay only a portion of that. A guy with some dough would have been nice, if for nothing else than to treat her to something other than spaghetti or ramen noodles one night a week. So shout out to all the young chicks looking for the big pay back.
Older women, ones with secure careers and decent finances tend to be less concerned with finding a man who can buy her things. We’ve been there, done that shit, and it wasn’t all that…ok birthdays WERE off tha chain! But at 30, a woman with a thriving career and toilet level romance prospects, is more likely to see your potential and want to nurture it.
Stop right there. I didn’t say ALL. Nor am I speaking for all. But if your problem is the money problem, then perhaps instead of writing of ALL women as stars in a Kanye video, consider a woman with some dough of her own…
So Sweetie Pie, what do you think?
“But I want a younger woman,” he says!
Well good luck, playa. Like you said, she ain’t messin with no broke ngga.
So I’m talking to this kid I grew up with, I mean from like, 5 years old…we live on the same street. He’s come a long way from the cantankerous, mischievous, hard nose boy with the ridiculous temper. He’s mild mannered and easy with a smile and chuckle. Ivy League educated, attractive, athletic, intelligent, open, spiritual, down to earth, and funny as hell. Sweetie Pie.
Then why can’t Sugar find a decent woman? His trouble: he’s broke.
After Ivy he spent time working then went back to school. So at 26, he hasn’t had many full years of working full time. But check it, Sweetie Pie was engaged to a fellow Ivy Leaguer, who happened to be the daughter of a senator. Talk about fast track.
So he and I hadn’t seen eachother for years between school (him) and work/moving (me). But one day he calls me and tells me he’s in NYC with his future in-laws. Wants to know a spot to hang out. Of course I immediately suggest some sophisticated, sexy lounge or another, only to find out Sweetie Pie doesn’t drink. And Ivy Wife wouldn’t be feeling that type of décor anyway. Well excuse the hell outta…..
So he’s only in town until the next afternoon (Sunday) so there’s not enough time for me to come meet him…and meet Ivy Wife.
So fast fwd to the next morning, I’m at church (shout out to Abyssinian Baptist!) and the pastor announces that one of our visitors is none other than a senator and his family. The Senator stands and introduces his family, including his “future son in law, who is fitting in quite nicely.” I almost ripped my offering envelope. I’m peeking over church hats and ducking around ushers trying to get a glimpse of the Senator and his family. Sure enough after service I go investigate and it’s my Sweetie Pie neighbor, so cute in his little tweed blazer and tan slacks.
Ok so that’s just a fun story that I love telling anytime I mention my Sweetie Pie.
But there is a point. He was engaged to this girl, and the next time I hear from him - through email just after the anniversary of his brother’s (my childhood sweetie) death – he was less than a week “disengaged.” He called it off.
So fast fwd like 2 years, to a week ago when I ran into him in the post ofc….then again to last night when he called me to see what I was up to. So Sweetie Pie has literally lived in 3 different time zones since undergrad and is back in NY. Nursing a healing appendix. A bitter outlook on his immediate love life. And broke.
See, according to Sweetie Pie, he’s not even in the league of great catches for one reason and one reason only…his cash flow needs viagara. Women, he says, ain’t messing with no bling-challenged brother. Now scroll back up if you will, and peep his credentials…he’s fine, fun and not a ho. 26. He says his stint in Phoenix was the last straw. He felt NO LOVE there at all.
“What ever happened to the days of wanting to grow with a brother?” he laments…and I concur. “I’m a decent brother, make enough to pay my bills, drive a tight, clean car, maintain good credit, and a comfortable lifestyle,” he says, “but just not thousands of disposal dollars to give to a woman, RIGHT NOW. But I will!”
He says women are not feeling men with no money, point blank. So he’s basically chilling until he reaches the next echelons of his career, a plateau that will afford him the luxury of picking and choosing his gold diggers.
So I say, “But if you attract them under such superficial circumstances, then the rewards will be superficial.” To which he says…
“Well maybe a trophy is better than an empty case,” he says.
Hmm…
But it gets better. I suggest he accompany me to a young professional party, where I will personally point out a number of women on the cusp of 30, who don’t give a fuck about any man’s bank account. She’ll have her own. And all she needs is a true companion…someone to be there when she gets home from work…to rub her feet, her back, listen to her work drama, hold her tight at night, and be honest when she asks if her suit is getting a little snug.
I’m not suggesting that women at my age have low expectations, but I am saying that [as we get older and as the pool of eligible brothers dwindles] our needs tend to be different from a lot of younger women. I mean really, we remember what it was like to be fresh out of college, $50,000 in the hole, and stuck with job prospects that pay only a portion of that. A guy with some dough would have been nice, if for nothing else than to treat her to something other than spaghetti or ramen noodles one night a week. So shout out to all the young chicks looking for the big pay back.
Older women, ones with secure careers and decent finances tend to be less concerned with finding a man who can buy her things. We’ve been there, done that shit, and it wasn’t all that…ok birthdays WERE off tha chain! But at 30, a woman with a thriving career and toilet level romance prospects, is more likely to see your potential and want to nurture it.
Stop right there. I didn’t say ALL. Nor am I speaking for all. But if your problem is the money problem, then perhaps instead of writing of ALL women as stars in a Kanye video, consider a woman with some dough of her own…
So Sweetie Pie, what do you think?
“But I want a younger woman,” he says!
Well good luck, playa. Like you said, she ain’t messin with no broke ngga.
Thursday, January 19, 2006
Friend or Faux, Part Too….
So I’ve come to the conclusion that Best Friend Guy (BFG) bears no ill-intent in calling me and wanting to hang out. I’m relying on my instincts and decent judgment of character on this one. Even if his boy (my ex) is over me and engaged [God forbid!], gives him the green light to holler at a Sista, I just don’t think that’s BFG’s steez. The only grime I truly suspect is the smudge of insecurity in my own game.
Oddly enough, Best Friend Guy will be rolling with me when I come to town for a hip hop show in a few weeks. If he tries to pull a fast one I'll be ready, pistol cocked...
Oddly enough, Best Friend Guy will be rolling with me when I come to town for a hip hop show in a few weeks. If he tries to pull a fast one I'll be ready, pistol cocked...
Thursday, January 12, 2006
Friend...or Faux?
Need to switch gears for a hot sec…kinda bizarre, but the best friend of a guy I used to talk to just called me. I ran into him at the mall during the holidays (along with my ex’s sister…weird)…anywho, he called me a few days after we saw each other and we had a really nice phone convo. I always really liked this friend. Very good guy. I definitely hated losing him in the break up…
When we spoke he suggested we take a road trip, kind of. like a weekend hang out. I didn’t really see this as odd, bec he’s cool, I’m cool, and we both professed a 2006 resolution of traveling more this year. BUT…he is my ex’s best friend…
Of course, I want to know how the ex is doing, since it’s been months since we’ve spoken…LOOOOONG story…maybe I’ll tell it soon.
Oddly enough, I’ve recently been logging a lot of happy hour…hours with another friend of the ex. Now this guy I knew long before I knew the ex so it’s not so out of the ordinary. But this other Mall-Best Friend guy I met thru the ex…what can I say, the ex keeps good company.
Anywho, should I be on high alert? I never felt like either was trying to push up on me or anything, and I don’t suspect either to be of the grimy persuasion. But what’s that all about? This best friend guy is like, offering to travel to hang out with me…and I swear, any day now I’m waiting on one of them informing me that the “ex-con” is engaged or some shit.
Fellas I need your help on this one…
When we spoke he suggested we take a road trip, kind of. like a weekend hang out. I didn’t really see this as odd, bec he’s cool, I’m cool, and we both professed a 2006 resolution of traveling more this year. BUT…he is my ex’s best friend…
Of course, I want to know how the ex is doing, since it’s been months since we’ve spoken…LOOOOONG story…maybe I’ll tell it soon.
Oddly enough, I’ve recently been logging a lot of happy hour…hours with another friend of the ex. Now this guy I knew long before I knew the ex so it’s not so out of the ordinary. But this other Mall-Best Friend guy I met thru the ex…what can I say, the ex keeps good company.
Anywho, should I be on high alert? I never felt like either was trying to push up on me or anything, and I don’t suspect either to be of the grimy persuasion. But what’s that all about? This best friend guy is like, offering to travel to hang out with me…and I swear, any day now I’m waiting on one of them informing me that the “ex-con” is engaged or some shit.
Fellas I need your help on this one…
Sunday, January 08, 2006
Don't Believe the TYPE
I learned something a long time ago, and thank God I did:…not every girl is for every guy…and obviously vice versa. We all, to some degree have TYPES. Check it…
In high school I had a reputation of being a “guy’s girl.” Ya know, the girl who is really cool with guys, is into sports, is really laid back, and tends not to pay much attention to pre-set gender roles. (Sadly, today our sexuality is questioned, but not back then!)
Now I never lacked for attention from guys…there were plenty who appreciated my kind of femininity. But at the same time I was not always attracting the type of guy that I was into. Case in point: Jon Summers*. He was a good friend of my childhood boyfriend, a guy I grew up with. They were very similar, had comparable personalities and interests, so I figured I'd have no problem attracting Jon the same way I had my friend.
So imagine my dismay when I went to a party at their school and Jon was stapled to the corner lip-locked up with this, this, this chick! The general adolescent consensus at the time was that chick was not too bright, and by most estimations, not that attractive either. I was PERPLEXED…and kinda salty.
But bec I liked him, I took for granted what kind of girl that Jon would like without acknowledging that he might have other interests. Maybe he liked ultra-femme, trophy girls. Maybe he liked someone not on his intellectual level, ya know, someone he could teach and mold. Maybe he didn't like chocolate sistas like myself. Who knows!
But the point is that just because I'm hilarious, smart and cute, does not mean that I'm the kind of girl that every guy wants…
Now having said all that…fellas, is there a girl or two in your life, or in your past, who might fall into the same category? You just can't understand why she is not wide open for you? You're smart as hell. Have a promising career and ambition draining from your pores. You keep a tight fade, and you always smell sexy. What’s the deal??
Well it might just be something as simple as her not feeling your “type.” It’s really not much different than the way you process women you meet. You take one look and the possibilities (or impossibilities) become obvious right away.
So don't blame sista…she is clear about what she wants. And it’s not an indictment on your character. Maybe you're just not her “type.”
*name changed slightly, but if you know me then you know I aint really changed much at all!
In high school I had a reputation of being a “guy’s girl.” Ya know, the girl who is really cool with guys, is into sports, is really laid back, and tends not to pay much attention to pre-set gender roles. (Sadly, today our sexuality is questioned, but not back then!)
Now I never lacked for attention from guys…there were plenty who appreciated my kind of femininity. But at the same time I was not always attracting the type of guy that I was into. Case in point: Jon Summers*. He was a good friend of my childhood boyfriend, a guy I grew up with. They were very similar, had comparable personalities and interests, so I figured I'd have no problem attracting Jon the same way I had my friend.
So imagine my dismay when I went to a party at their school and Jon was stapled to the corner lip-locked up with this, this, this chick! The general adolescent consensus at the time was that chick was not too bright, and by most estimations, not that attractive either. I was PERPLEXED…and kinda salty.
But bec I liked him, I took for granted what kind of girl that Jon would like without acknowledging that he might have other interests. Maybe he liked ultra-femme, trophy girls. Maybe he liked someone not on his intellectual level, ya know, someone he could teach and mold. Maybe he didn't like chocolate sistas like myself. Who knows!
But the point is that just because I'm hilarious, smart and cute, does not mean that I'm the kind of girl that every guy wants…
Now having said all that…fellas, is there a girl or two in your life, or in your past, who might fall into the same category? You just can't understand why she is not wide open for you? You're smart as hell. Have a promising career and ambition draining from your pores. You keep a tight fade, and you always smell sexy. What’s the deal??
Well it might just be something as simple as her not feeling your “type.” It’s really not much different than the way you process women you meet. You take one look and the possibilities (or impossibilities) become obvious right away.
So don't blame sista…she is clear about what she wants. And it’s not an indictment on your character. Maybe you're just not her “type.”
*name changed slightly, but if you know me then you know I aint really changed much at all!
Friday, January 06, 2006
Boy Chart
Happy New Year, boys...
I spoke to a college friend today. She reminded me of the age chart she and I devised back then, that explains where in life guys are at different ages up to 30…bec at 21 I wasn’t really checking for men over that threshold. As we grew older we began to really see the validity in our claims, and it has never been more clear and correct than it is today.
Do YOU fit the bill?
20-23 – College. Still obsessed with sexual conquests…and video games.
24-25 – Finally finished with school and actually landed a decent job. Now he’s able to finance his feverish conquest for ass, so watch out. Now, when you see him perusing the mall, he’s got not only the latest Madden his shopping bags…but, oh my, CK One cologne.
26 – He’s been on the job a year now, and has a full week and a half’s worth of black and blue dress pants hanging on wire hangers in his closet….floor full of Jordans. He’s met some really great women at after-work happy hour, and he’s even dated a few for extended periods of time. But he still has some low-expectation homeboys who convince him he’s still much too young to “throw in his player’s card.” Plus they need one more pair of thumbs to round out the NBA Live tourney next Saturday.
27 – By now he’s switched jobs, this one has a 401k (of which he does not take advantage. He needs his WHOLE check…or rather, Discover card is demanding it!). He’s been with so many women – (he’s embarrassed by a great many of them, but azz is azz) – that he is now tired of the game, and secretly longs for a steady…but of course he masks this desire and remains elusive by being “really focused on the career right now.” His ego soars high as the girl in Human Resources outdoes herself to get his attention. But he’s the guy who “works crazy hours” and doesn’t “have time for a serious relationship right now.” Oh, and he’s upgraded to Crave cologne. Even owns a few pairs of square-toed shoes. Sneaker game is out of this world. Also at least one of his boys is now a baby daddy…who now buys X-Box games “for his seed.”
28 – Like many of his female counterparts, this guy is deep in debt, btwn credit cards and Sallie Mae. So he’s not at happy hour as much, and is “tired of the mall” (plus now he’s also upgraded to “the outlets”). Karma has paid this fucker a few visits, and truth be told his heart’s been broken. He’s so disillusioned by being played that he turns to white girls. Yes, he’s a bit of a late bloomer. He finds a whole new world at the white bars, and finds it less expensive there too. Needless to say, with all that free bunny love, he’s not thinking about no wifey…despite the fact that he is FINALLY realizing that his white counterparts on the job have long since mastered the corporate game and now parade their trophy wives to all the holiday office parties.
29 – Mama’s on his azz now. As if HER biological clock is going nuts, she’s all but shopping for baby clothes, waiting on that grandbaby. This guy’s grandmother passed recently, and he’ss starting to feel lonely and under pressure for love. But he’s squandered away most of his 20s trying to conquer as many women as he can. Most of his friends are either in baby mama hell, or back living with their parents, so he spends a lot of time playing Playstation alone. Lives for the Saturday afternoons when one of his boys’ kids is with the in-laws. He’s got a photo album full of anonymous smiling women from the good old road trip days: Freaknik, Daytona, Caribana, Jones Beach. At 29, dude is depressed about 30. He’s discovered his 401k, wants to buy a condo, and has been researching Whole Life insurance policies…but then frowns knowing he has no one to leave the money to in the unfortunate event of his demise. All of a sudden, he wonders when the tides have turned…women used to be aplenty. Now it seems the well has gone dry, and he can’t seem to find “the right girl.” The one who can cook and strip at the same time. The pressure is so thick he contemplates relocating for a fresh start. But then mama calls, and he rationalizes that he’s got “family obligations” and THAT’S why he’s single with no prospects.
30 – Still deep in a depression, his boys take him out to celebrate the big 3-0. And despite the despair, it’s like New Years Day…a rebirth or sorts. He begins to see this decade as a way to rewrite his future. He frequents the real estate section of the paper and will actually go to an open house this year. He will order a copy of his credit report. He will get an HIV test. He will buy his mama a substantial gift. He will get rims on his Explorer (still spinnin’). He will ask for a raise. He will upgrade yet again. Maybe a Polo fragrance to match his new boxer briefs. He will finally give in to the girl in Human Resources. Try the steady thing. He will get a flat screen TV. He will bring his dead Granny bouquets on Sundays after church. He will get his four suits tailored. He will get some AZZ!
Sound familiar??
I spoke to a college friend today. She reminded me of the age chart she and I devised back then, that explains where in life guys are at different ages up to 30…bec at 21 I wasn’t really checking for men over that threshold. As we grew older we began to really see the validity in our claims, and it has never been more clear and correct than it is today.
Do YOU fit the bill?
20-23 – College. Still obsessed with sexual conquests…and video games.
24-25 – Finally finished with school and actually landed a decent job. Now he’s able to finance his feverish conquest for ass, so watch out. Now, when you see him perusing the mall, he’s got not only the latest Madden his shopping bags…but, oh my, CK One cologne.
26 – He’s been on the job a year now, and has a full week and a half’s worth of black and blue dress pants hanging on wire hangers in his closet….floor full of Jordans. He’s met some really great women at after-work happy hour, and he’s even dated a few for extended periods of time. But he still has some low-expectation homeboys who convince him he’s still much too young to “throw in his player’s card.” Plus they need one more pair of thumbs to round out the NBA Live tourney next Saturday.
27 – By now he’s switched jobs, this one has a 401k (of which he does not take advantage. He needs his WHOLE check…or rather, Discover card is demanding it!). He’s been with so many women – (he’s embarrassed by a great many of them, but azz is azz) – that he is now tired of the game, and secretly longs for a steady…but of course he masks this desire and remains elusive by being “really focused on the career right now.” His ego soars high as the girl in Human Resources outdoes herself to get his attention. But he’s the guy who “works crazy hours” and doesn’t “have time for a serious relationship right now.” Oh, and he’s upgraded to Crave cologne. Even owns a few pairs of square-toed shoes. Sneaker game is out of this world. Also at least one of his boys is now a baby daddy…who now buys X-Box games “for his seed.”
28 – Like many of his female counterparts, this guy is deep in debt, btwn credit cards and Sallie Mae. So he’s not at happy hour as much, and is “tired of the mall” (plus now he’s also upgraded to “the outlets”). Karma has paid this fucker a few visits, and truth be told his heart’s been broken. He’s so disillusioned by being played that he turns to white girls. Yes, he’s a bit of a late bloomer. He finds a whole new world at the white bars, and finds it less expensive there too. Needless to say, with all that free bunny love, he’s not thinking about no wifey…despite the fact that he is FINALLY realizing that his white counterparts on the job have long since mastered the corporate game and now parade their trophy wives to all the holiday office parties.
29 – Mama’s on his azz now. As if HER biological clock is going nuts, she’s all but shopping for baby clothes, waiting on that grandbaby. This guy’s grandmother passed recently, and he’ss starting to feel lonely and under pressure for love. But he’s squandered away most of his 20s trying to conquer as many women as he can. Most of his friends are either in baby mama hell, or back living with their parents, so he spends a lot of time playing Playstation alone. Lives for the Saturday afternoons when one of his boys’ kids is with the in-laws. He’s got a photo album full of anonymous smiling women from the good old road trip days: Freaknik, Daytona, Caribana, Jones Beach. At 29, dude is depressed about 30. He’s discovered his 401k, wants to buy a condo, and has been researching Whole Life insurance policies…but then frowns knowing he has no one to leave the money to in the unfortunate event of his demise. All of a sudden, he wonders when the tides have turned…women used to be aplenty. Now it seems the well has gone dry, and he can’t seem to find “the right girl.” The one who can cook and strip at the same time. The pressure is so thick he contemplates relocating for a fresh start. But then mama calls, and he rationalizes that he’s got “family obligations” and THAT’S why he’s single with no prospects.
30 – Still deep in a depression, his boys take him out to celebrate the big 3-0. And despite the despair, it’s like New Years Day…a rebirth or sorts. He begins to see this decade as a way to rewrite his future. He frequents the real estate section of the paper and will actually go to an open house this year. He will order a copy of his credit report. He will get an HIV test. He will buy his mama a substantial gift. He will get rims on his Explorer (still spinnin’). He will ask for a raise. He will upgrade yet again. Maybe a Polo fragrance to match his new boxer briefs. He will finally give in to the girl in Human Resources. Try the steady thing. He will get a flat screen TV. He will bring his dead Granny bouquets on Sundays after church. He will get his four suits tailored. He will get some AZZ!
Sound familiar??
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