Mr. Nice Guy From Hell

I have a new blog. It should be fun. I might ask you to contribute!!!

https://mrniceguyfromhell.wordpress.com/

Hope you enjoy!!!

Advertisements

The Thirst

Are you thirsty? Not for water, for an individual for whom you think you might have a romantic connection. I keep reading tweets from men who claim that showing a woman interest doesn’t equal thirst and that these women just aren’t used to a man treating them well…which is a hot, steaming pile of horseshit because A) I’ve fallen victim to The Thirst and B) I am well aware of how to be treated by a man…that I’m interested in. Unwanted romantic advances fall into three categories: Persistence, Thirst, and Stalking. (Keep in mind, it is only considered annoying if you’re not interested in the individual; otherwise, it’s normal courting.)

Persistence Back in August, I received a message in my inbox on Facebook from a guy I went to high school with. I didn’t know him then, still don’t know him now, but he had been liking and commenting on quite a few posts and pictures. This means absolutely nothing…or it means absolutely EVERYTHING!! Turns out, the gentleman wanted to date me. He never outright said “I’d like to take you out on a date.” Instead, he relied on the persistence method, also known as the Steve Urkel I’m Wearing You Down approach. This rarely works.

20130106-104306.jpg

No. For the love of God, NO!!! That shit is not endearing, it’s called pre-stalking. This man had the nerve to say stalking was subjective…and then I knew precisely why men make statements like, “You just don’t know it feels to have a real man treat you good.” If the response to your persistence are one word answers and you never seem to quite make any ground with the object of your affection, chances are this person is trying not to reject advances you’re too chicken shit to make. The man who thought persistence was the key to my heart sent this final message on New Year’s Day:

I really would have liked to have had a chance to get to know you. No disrespect, I know you’re attached now, but I hope you’ll keep my application on file should the future husband position be available again. Best wishes beautiful.

Persistence only works when feelings are reciprocated, only then it’s called dating.

The Thirst People confuse persistence with thirst all the time. The litmus test is quite simple: Would you be disgusted by the actions if you had any interest whatsoever in the individual? If so, it’s probably just some poor overanxious soul who really wants your attention. If you are disgusted and appalled by this person, you are officially a victim of The Thirst. Similar to persistence, The Thirst can be misconstrued. If you receive a message describing what the sender wants to do to every inch of your body from someone you want to do things to every inch of your body, it’s not The Thirst, it’s sexting. If you haven’t seen the married individual since 1993 when he was your summer boyfriend, it’s not only thirsty, it’s creepy.

20130106-110816.jpg

1) This man has never met my child. 2) My Facebook inbox is not here for this foolishness. 3) Ew.

The Thirst comes in all kinds of flavors: Excessive commenting and liking of posts, statuses, and pictures…and by excessive, I mean ALL, insisting that you can do better than someone else’s man/woman, being extra…The Thirst is easily identified: Have you gotten anywhere with your “flirting”? No…oh, it’s because you’re fucking thirsty!!!

Stalking I’ve been stalked before and it’s not to be taken lightly. Back in college, a man who at one point went to the university in a neighboring town decided to set his sights on me. During a weekend break, while we were on the phone, he asked me where I lived. I gave him a general vicinity and we continued to talk on the phone. He told me he had some errands to run and we ended our conversation. About an hour later, he called me back and asked what exit he needed to take to get to my house. I was utterly confused…and then he explained he wanted to surprise me so he didn’t tell me he was about to make a 60 mile drive to my house unannounced. I told him my mother and I were about to leave out and then realized I had a weirdo on my hands. A few weeks later, while visiting a friend at his “school,” he found out I was in town, attempted to explain away his skeevy behavior and offered to drive us around to some of his fraternity events. I obliged. Long story short, he tried to kill me. Like physically wrap his hands around my throat and strangle the life from my tiny little body. He was chased down by his frat brothers, the police were called, a restraining order was filed, and I went back to my school. After he showed up on my campus asking around for me, I had to contact the campus police and let my dorm director know I had a stalker. According to the messages I continued to get, he just wanted to tell me sorry and know if he could try again. 1) No. 2) I never slept with this dude nor gave him any indication I planned on handing over my virginity to him. 3) No. I heard from one of his frat brothers that he was creeping on another freshman…it took him until I left for summer break for him to stop calling, writing letters, and doing other stalky shit. (I just looked him up on Facebook…his occupation is listed as professional boxer…go fucking figure)

It’s quite simple to determine whether your method is working: Are you in a relationship with the person you’re creeping on? Are you being ignored? Have your requests ever been honored? Will your actions put you in prison? Is there a restraining order against you? Really? Well, you just might be a persistent, thirsty stalker. This means you Blue Line Tyrell.

Dear Mr. White Man

Dear White Man,

A few weeks ago, I joined match.com to broaden my dating horizons (*Read: actually get out of the house and go on actual dates) and according to the emails I’ve received from other users, I’m attractive to not just black men, but Others as well. Men whose profiles indicate they are only interested in dating Caucasian, Asian, Hispanic/Latina, and Native American women wink at me (the facebook equivalent of a poke and the Brett Favre equivalent of a dick pic) and send me emails as though they don’t notice I don’t fit their ethnicity requirements. I don’t mind, really, because like I’ve said countless times before, I’m a what’s on the inside that counts provided the outside is attractive kinda girl. I’m a sucker for a pretty face, and I’m really not ashamed to say that I don’t care about the hue of said face. What I do care about are the silly questions, asinine statements, and ridiculous notions some of you Others seem to have about dating “sistas” (about that…don’t call me a sista…EVER). I’m in the habit of helping out the clueless, it’s the teacher in me, and since I still have some residual educator ways left, I’m here to assist, whether you want it or not.

You don’t need to reference my blackness or your whiteness all the time. Please feel free to NOT point out our differences in music, culture, hair, skin color, slang and dancing ability because rest assured, you’re probably going to offend me in the process. Yes, I wrap my hair at night and will be pissed if it gets wet in the rain. No, I’ve never seen Good Hair and I really don’t care about your opinions on weaves and relaxers. Please don’t jokingly use words like “axe” for “ask” and “finna” for “about to” because although you may be kidding, in reality, you’re insulting me. I speak proper English, just like you. My friends speak proper English, just like yours. When I do speak familiarly with someone, it’s because I’m familiar with said someone. You just met me. We’re not familiar yet. But guess what? I never say axe because I’m literate and I know what sounds letters make when they’re put together. See how riled up I’ve gotten? How about this? Pretend you’re “colorblind” and speak to me the same way you would speak to a non-Black woman. It will work out in your favor.

I blame Barack Obama and MTV Jams for you believing you have to prove to me how down for the cause you are. Barack Obama is the President of the United States so if you want kudos for letting me know you voted for him, you’re not getting them. At least 51% of Americans voted for him and because I’m too lazy to look up the actual percentage *insert racial stereotype here*, you’re just gonna have to believe me. As far as music is concerned, axing me if I’ve heard that new Jay-Z or making a bling or swag comment will cause me to go into obligatory black girl eye roll. Pop culture is just that, popular. It’s not just a black thang anymore and steering our conversations to the urban side of it is condescending as hell. I happen to like white people pop culture, as well as black people pop culture. I voted for Rahm Emmanuel. You don’t hear me bringing that up, do you? (Did you know that our mayor is Jewish?) I’m much more than my black skin and my experiences, hobbies, and interests include more than those things you saw on Black in America. I’m not impressed that you know who Lil Wayne and Beyonce are, as well.

The last thing I need you to understand is that I’m not the Official Authority on Black People Stuff. I don’t have the definitive answer to all things Negro. Don’t ask me why do all Black people do random things like put apostrophes in our kid’s names or buy big rims for our cars. Hell I don’t know! My name literally means “white wave” making it more white than Amy and Becky and my Camry has hubcaps that are pretty unshiny. I spent my first two years of college speaking on behalf of all black people and that was more than enough. I just don’t know what we think about Herman Cain, but the next time we have the Black Folks meeting, I’ll make sure I get our official position.

Interracial dating is difficult, especially for Black women with all of the negative stereotypes we have to overcome before we’re even recognized as not being the caricatures we’re portrayed as by the media. I’ve given Others a chance, hell I married one (and ended up with the most non-Asian stereotype of a mother-un-law one could ever hope to imagine). If you’re serious about dating me, or any other black woman, the first thing you need to understand is that you’re dating an individual so shed the imagery you got from that Tyler Perry show you caught a glimpse of before the Bulls game came on. Black women aren’t one size fits all. If we believed everything we got from TV and the movies, we’d never give you a chance in the first place…is it true that all white men have small, pink penises? See how that goes?

Sincerely (and I’m being so sincere),

Not your Soul Sista

Dating (Is) For Dummies

I don’t like dating. Actually, I despise it with every fiber of my being. The entire process completely turns me off: meeting someone, talking or texting, setting up a date that doesn’t conflict with either of our busy schedules, meeting, realizing he isn’t as cute as he was the night I met him, being bored out of my mind because he’s boring as shit, and finally the awkward goodbye. Dating is the pits, but I’ve learned the ropes and picked up a few dos and don’ts along the way.

Turn your ringer off I went out with a man who spent the entire ride to the restaurant on the phone. The call kept dropping so every 6 minutes, his loud ass annoying ringtone chimed alerting him to pick up the phone so his sister could finish telling him what happened to her and their cousin in Miami. He asked me if I minded before he started talking to her and I even talked to her, too (we go way back) but that phone rang ALL NIGHT LONG!!! Text messages, phone calls, emails, etc. Instead of putting the phone on vibrate, this fool let the sucker ring. He never answered after we got to the restaurant, but that didn’t stop whoever was trying to reach him from trying. Finally, I had to say “Pretty Boy who’s only getting a second chance because you’re so pretty, your ever-chiming phone is annoying. Put that shit on vibrate!” He obliged, but not before he firmly cemented himself in No More Dates For You Land, pretty face and all.

Anticipate Sex Oh don’t give me that “I don’t do blah blah blah on the first date.” Shit happens!! As a rule, I don’t either, but I also don’t ever say never. So what do you do when things are going fabulously, you go back to your place for a cup of coffee, the kissing turns to that thing that happens after kissing and SHIT!!! Your crotch, underarms, and legs look like Cousin Itt, you don’t have a single condom, and there are clothes ALL OVER YOUR BEDROOM FLOOR!!! Your three month rule is going to remain intact because you forgot to grab a few items from Walgreens. Oh quit fronting like you don’t like sex! That good girl, I don’t usually do this crap is played out. Men also need to get over the “if she slept with me on the first night then who else has she slept with on the first night” foolishness, too. Chances are, it doesn’t happen very often for either of you but when people place stipulations on nature and not prepare for sex, they end up risking their lives and livelihoods having unprotected sex. I’m not advocating having sex on the first, second, or ANY date. What I am saying is be prepared for it.

Stay Sober This goes for everyone, men AND women. Who the hell blames it on the alcohol anymore? Inebriation puts you in a state of vulnerability and unless you’re extremely comfortable with your companion, sobriety is your best bet. Drunkenness will have you saying and doing things you wouldn’t do sober. Yeah, I get that drunk actions are sober thoughts, but inhibitions are what separate us from people who appear on reality shows. Once your inhibitions have been totally eradicated by those shots of Patron, the evening becomes an episode of Blind Date without those funny popups. Not everyone manifests intoxication in the same manner (I’m a get naked, get in bed and go to sleep drunk), so while you might be an amorous drunk, your date may be a belligerent drunk who gets really pissed off when you decide you love everyone at the bar. My advice: save the shots for a night out with your friends and alternate every drink with a glass of water when you’re on a date.

I’m sure there are plenty of things I’ve missed: make sure you have a sitter, wear deodorant, dress appropriately (stilettos at the movies just don’t work and neither does a white tee at…well, everywhere) but from a person who hates to date, these work well for me. Dating comes with all kinds of unspoken rules and as a professional non-dater, I listen to my friends complain about their crappy dates and giggle a little inside. If they knew like I knew how much dating sucks, they wouldn’t be having all these issues.

Urban Legends

Once upon a time, every problem in a sitcom relationship was solved before the half hour episode was over. Cliff apologized to Claire. Martin got a kiss and his ears groped by Gina. Fancy giggled at Jamie’s antics and attributed his buffoonery to “Jamie being Jamie”. Fortunately, shows like Girlfriends and The Game showcase relationships slightly more realistically. Thirty minutes isn’t nearly enough time to fix Jill’s hurt feelings after Tim made fun of her snoring on “Tool Time”. (Although Jill probably should have gotten over it since she blew out Tim’s engine because she didn’t recognize the “check engine” light meant check the flippin’ engine). The same way life doesn’t work the way it does on television, some of the things we believe about relationships don’t work either. Here are some common myths that just don’t cut it:

Having a baby saves everything This is the single most foolish thing I’ve ever heard of, and in this day and age, people STILL believe it will work. If your relationship is on shaky ground, shitty diapers and projectile vomit won’t be fixing much, now will it? Bringing a life into this world to prove your commitment to each other is about as dumb as (I’ve been sitting here for 20 minutes trying to think of something as equally dumb as having a baby to keep a man and I have yet to come up with anything remotely close). Raising a child together requires more than just the 30 seconds it took to make one. If you want him to marry you, having his child isn’t going to get you an engagement ring. Teething ring, perhaps but no diamonds. From what I’ve gathered, many men don’t equate doing the right thing to marrying the mother of their child(ren). In some cases, the baby happens to come before the marriage, and the marriage works out but this is not the norm. There wouldn’t be so many single parents if life worked out that way. The only guarantee of having a kid with someone is that your child will have half of his DNA and half of yours. Children are not weapons in your little Love War, so unless the two of you are committed to each other 100%, invest in some birth control.

Love is all you need You’re joking, right? Marriage is a business contract between two people who love each other and have decided to devote the rest of their lives to one another. You need a license to get married and a judge to end it. Sounds like a legal transaction to me. Yeah there are other things involved, but you can have a commitment without a marriage license. Many people go into marriage without the clear understanding that love can’t fix everything. Being in love is a chemical imbalance…yeah I said it! All those butterflies and palpitations you felt when you were dating are from completely different reasons after marriage. Where will we live? How will we raise the kids? Can we afford to take this trip? The superficial “in love” is replaced by a much deeper love that stems from mutual respect, friendship and understanding so if all you have to go on is “he gives me goosebumps,” the cute way he chews his French toast is gonna piss you off a few years down the road. Getting married for love only isn’t enough, because it takes a lot more than love to make a marriage work. One would assume you’re together because you love each other and you haven’t married every man you’ve loved so there must be something more to it. As much as I loved my ex-husband, it wasn’t enough to hold together our marriage. I couldn’t trust him to do anything (and I mean things like trust him to not leave the backdoor wide open all night long). Love is only one piece of the 1000 piece marriage puzzle, so if that’s all you’ve got to go on, you might wanna wait until you’ve figured out where some of the other pieces fit.

Steve Harvey Are you really about to follow the advice of a man who wore a wig and twenty button suits? For real, son?!? Never mind the fact that he’s been married five times (ok, so maybe he likes the way women look in veils and white dresses), when did STEVE HARVEY become a relationship guru? Ok, here I am, the pot calling the kettle black since I spend a lot of time dishing out advice. What I do, though, is offer my humble opinion based on my experience and present it as such. Nothing I’ve ever said is a steadfast rule, only wisdom I’ve gained from my own failures and successes. I would NEVER say that what works for me will work for every single woman on the planet, so I find it very concerning when a man gives a woman rules on how to get a man. Women shouldn’t have to alter their thinking to get a man. A guy I know said something that made a lot of sense…he asked if I ever wondered why there isn’t a similar book like Steve Harvey’s geared toward men. There might be, but I can guarantee it didn’t make New York Times bestseller list. Why? Because men don’t need anyone telling them how to think and neither do you! Advice isn’t, and should never be, a steadfast rule. I say this all the time, if you want to know what’s going on with your mate: ASK THEM!!!! Remember that episode of The Boondocks when Grandpa was dating the chick who was getting ridiculous advice from her crazy friend and blew herself up in the end? Add it to your “must watch” list, throw away that Steve Harvey book and when you have a question about someone, ASK THEM!!!!

We have a bad habit of trying to apply TV logic to real life and it NEVER works. Ever! There’s a show on The Discovery Channel called Mythbusters that proves many urban legends to be fallacious, created by Hollywood to make us believe that we live in a cool place where solutions are no more than two hours away. We believe in Dr. Phil and Steve Harvey because they’re famous and famous people MUST know what they’re talking about. They don’t…but you do. Listen to yourself, your mind, your heart, your mate. The day you believe the Urban Legends is the day you’re doomed…Temple of Doom.

So THAT’S Where They’ve Been Hiding!

Last week, I wrote a post for the fellas, giving them a direct map to where all the good women have been hiding. Since then, I’ve been asking men where they like to hang out because my friends and I are OBVIOUSLY looking in the wrong places. Like I thought, “at my boy’s crib” was the number one answer. I also got a few good tips that involve public places and DON’T involve video games. I’ve compiled the data, figured out how to make it work and, as promised, this one is for the ladies!

The Barber Shop You know that nappy head ass little boy that’s always throwing rocks at your garage? Do his mama a favor and offer to take him to get a hair cut. Ask a male friend for a recommendation and make an appointment. I’ve been told some barber shops have nail technicians and if not, you can always get some work done. Vary his appointment to see what other days of the week have to offer. Once you’ve checked out the scene, keep a standing biweekly appointment with your favorite neighborhood hoodlum. Not only are you mentoring a youth, you’re getting an eye full of man candy fresh out the barber’s chair. You’ll be impressive because you’re A) Probably the only chick in the entire shop B) You’re so dedicated to the young lad and C) You’re not paying the men in the shop any attention. You read that correctly! If you’re there looking desperate, they’ll know you’re up to something. Play it cool. **ICE COLD** Be there for your young friend, not the cute customers. Bring a book…someone will bother ask you about what you’re reading. Casually strike up a conversation about whatever sport season you’re in, and if you’re not sure, don’t pretend you know what you’re talking about. Pretty soon, you’ll be like one of the guys, and that’s when you make your move.

Flag football, soccer, softball **insert team sport** So apparently men like sports. Yeah, I know, right?!?! Whoda thunk it?! Where there are sports, there are men. And where there are men…well, you get the point. Even if you’re not very athletic, ie., you trip over your own two feet, you can practice. Or if you’re adverse to physical activity, be a spectator and watch your friends play. Cheerlead, bring Gatorade, or just provide transportation to the post-game bar. I was not the most athletic girl in gym class – the other volleyball team would sit down when it was my turn to serve – but apparently it’s not about your skill level, it’s all about the fun. After watching that episode of The Boondocks, I’ve decided kickball is my sport and will be joining a team this fall. Ask around, the city is crawling with co-ed team sports and they’d be happy to have you.

Right in front of your nose Women often shoot good men down because they’re missing a single component of that “package” we’ve put together in our brains. We make a list of criteria and if a man doesn’t fit every single last one of them, we shoot them down. He’s not tall enough, he doesn’t give me goosebumps, my car is nicer than his, I make more than him (and not much more), he’s an Alpha, I only date Kappas. His nose is big, he has small hands, blah blah blah. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with having standards, as a matter of fact, I applaud them (See Do You Want A Cookie). What is so very wrong is when your standards are unattainable criteria that you cling so tightly to, NO man is good enough for you. You keep on holding out for a man who gets a check for every item on your list and you’ll be single FOREVER. Finding a boyfriend isn’t like going to Target; you’re not going to find everything you want. The guy you keep bumping into at Borders may not be the most handsome guy in the bookstore, but he’s not there because he shares your love for Zane (Men don’t go to Borders). I’m absolutely crazy about a guy who’s been RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY FACE for almost two years (and that is all I’m about to share about that). My point is, and I always have one, that while your list may have everything you desire from a mate, half of that crap you really don’t need. Are you sure you’re gonna turn down a potential Mr. Right because he doesn’t have dreads and dreads are a MUST HAVE? Rank your list from most to least important and if a man has those top five, he has potential.

That was easier than I thought! Before anyone questions whether any of these ideas work, I must say I can only attest to the last two. That barber shop trick is a new one and should probably be attempted only be a skilled extrovert. I may try it over the summer and let you ladies know how it works. Some other places men clued me in on are: the golf course, the gym, men’s sections of department stores, sports bars during a big game/fight (all football games are big games, fyi), and jogging in the park (do this one with a buddy, he could be running towards you to try something shady). I hope this helps Ladies! Good luck and happy hunting!

STFU

Women are dumb. No seriously, we are. I like to think of myself as one of the few who have overcome estrogen to become The Enlightened. I fancy myself as a dude’s chick. I genuinely like sports, I drink beer, love steak, refuse to ask for directions, and hate Sex and the City. I’m not masculine in any way, shape or form, I just choose not to do chick stuff. Over the years, I listen to my girls gripe about stuff their menfolk do. Instead of talking to their mate, they buy Steve Harvey’s book or watch Dateline about the absence of good black men. I want to look them square in the eye and say STFU!!! Many times, the answer to women’s problems is to STFU and as always, I’ll explain. (I’m a teacher, it’s what I do).

He says: Damn girl, where you been?

She says: Nowhere. Why? Where have YOU been? Why do you wanna know? What?! Are you saying I usually look bad? Blah blah blah….

I say: STFU!!! It’s a compliment!! Say thank you and keep it moving. As much as we’d like a perfect compliment, you chicks are so silly that no matter what he says, you’ll find a way to take offense to it. Compliments don’t always come wrapped in a pretty bow. Sometimes they come in a Target bag. It’s not how it’s packaged, it’s what was intended.

He says: Baby, the train leaves at 4 from platform 12.

She says: But the sign says it leaves at 5 from platform 16. We’re gonna miss our train then we won’t make it then we’ll be late…blah blah blah.

I say: STFU!!! This actually happened yesterday on our way to Ravinia at the Metra station. A woman INSISTED she was right, yelling at her male companion from halfway across the station. She was wrong. Really wrong. All she had to do was STFU and listen. She was looking at the wrong time. She was wrong. Very wrong. He was right. She was wrong. Word of advice: unless you’re absolutely positive, STFU or at the very least, don’t yell across the train station about how wrong your man is when you’re the one who’s wrong. Dead wrong.

He says: Honey let’s go to that hot new restaurant everyone is talking about this Friday at 8 PM.

She says: OK, make sure you make reservations.

He says: We won’t need them. My boy got a hook up and if he’s not there I’m sure we can get a seat at the bar.

She says: But I don’t wanna sit at the bar. Blah blah blah….

I say: STFU and make the damn reservation! If he insists upon just stopping by and hoping for a table, don’t follow that foolishness then waste your time sitting at the bar with an attitude. Why argue about something that is simple (and free) to do? Pick up your iPhone or BlackBerry, get the number, make a reservation – do it in his name for all I care – and go out for dinner. Some women will purposely get dressed up and go out KNOWING FULL WELL they won’t get a table just to prove a point. When you’re right, YOU’RE RIGHT!! Like my grandma always said, don’t cut off your nose to spite your face. You end looking like a fool with no nose.

He says: We can go out for brunch after the football game.

She says: But I’m hungry and it’ll be too late and I thought Sundays were for us…blah blah BLAH!!!

I say: STFU and go out for brunch with your girlfriends who don’t watch football. Even better, COOK brunch. Even MORE better, get online and order from Grub Hub. Same rules apply for playoffs of any sport. Stop pretending that your plans are more important than the game. They’re not. He does the dumb shit you wanna do so show some respect for the sanctity of athletics and get some business. Download Score Mobile, check his favorite teams’ schedules and plan things that you want to do during those times like get a pedicure or visit your mother. Chances are you’ll be glad you got some alone time without him complaining about having to hold your purse while you try on 15 little black dresses.

I don’t claim to be a relationship “guru” but experience is an excellent teacher. I’ve learned from the mistakes I’ve made as well as the many mistakes of my friends, associates, and random women I’ve watched screw up royally. I’m single, but relationship status isn’t an indicator of relationship success potential. I’d make a pretty good girlfriend, I just haven’t met anyone who’d make a pretty good boyfriend…yet…or maybe I have… ANYWAY! The point is, sometimes, the best thing to do is to STFU, you never know how much you’ll actually hear when your mouth isn’t always running.

%d bloggers like this: