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.