Archive for December, 2009

Happy New Year!

Posted: December 31, 2009 in Uncategorized

Here’s to 2010 beating the shit out of 2009. Better Luck Tomorrow. And the next 364 days!

Had a good weekend this weekend. Very good weekend actually. And I chalk that all up to the fact that I’m a man. Yep, a dude. Hombre. El Vato Loco. Big Bwana. And as a man, nothing is better than being around a bunch of pretty lookin’ women. Especially when you have a chance at a lot of these pretty lookin’ women. I mean, that’s a good weekend. Simple and plain.

I bring all this up because there’s been a lot of yackery over the past few days about how hard it is to be a black woman in the dating game, especially as it relates to more educated, upwardly mobile (read bougie) sisters. The dam broke with the Helena Andrews Wapo article about her new book, “Bitch is the New Black.” This was emailed around, forwarded, tweeted about, and ended up on VSB’s Blog and The Beautiful Struggler. As predicatably as crime returning to a newly gentrified neighborhood in a recession, the conversation split into either people telling women what they’re doing wrong and why their oafish behavior is the reason they don’t have a man or men explaining why women don’t have the monopoly on difficulty in dating. Same story, different blog.

Update: A Belle in Brooklyn has also gotten in on the Bitch is the New Black Game

But see, here’s the thing. I actually try to put myself in the shoes of my female counterparts (if you saw my halloween costume, you’ll of course get the irony of this statement). And Frankly, I would hate to be a chick in these DC streets.

Let’s take Friday: I started off at a friend’s networking event/toy drive. When I got there, there were about 10-15 women sitting in small groups, eating hors d’ouevres and drinking sassy cocktails. There might have ben three guys there, and two of them were clearly with their woman or on a date. So I was essentially the only single dude there mingling. And I did mingle. I sat at all the tables and talked to pretty much everyone. And they all asked for the male opinion on what their situations were. Thing is, their situations were all universally fucked up. One girl had a string of dates where the guys were in relationships, knew they were on a pedestal, and one was even straight up married. One was trying to figure out how to snare a guy that she essentially threw a house party so she could spend more time with him, made out with him, and hadn’t heard from in a couple weeks, and another one who just admitted she didn’t even ask questions anymore that she didn’t want the answers to.

But let’s turn this on its head. Let’s say I go to an event and there are 15 dudes there and three women. And only one of those women is single.  She can basically peruse the lot, kick the tires, ask the salesman questions, and test drive all of us all she likes. She doesn’t have to make a decision. Choose? Who the hell are we to ask her to choose when there’s so little competition. And would we even want her to choose just one? Wouldn’t it be better if she spread herself around a little so maybe two or three of us could get some time with her as opposed to just one. And what if you weren’t really the best model on the lot. You were a little older, maybe didn’t have any options or were a minivan shape in a sports car world. Then, what can you really expect? Do you really have any choices at all? What do you have to compromise not just in terms of who you’ll date, but what you have to compromise of yourself just to get a date? What if I had to spend Ruth Chris first date money to go out with someone who in any rational dating economy would only warrant a Starbucks/Barnes & Noble meet-up? I might get a little bitter.

If I were a chick, I’d be infuriated by this. I mean, I get infuriated when a top notch best of the best woman doesn’t want me. If I go out on the town and I don’t receive interest from several women, I wonder what the hell is going wrong. Imagine if I had to lower my standards to deal with women who were substantially flawed. I’m six feet tall, weigh 180 lbs. and have next to no body fat. What if I had people everyday telling me that I’d better get used to the idea that my mate should be 5’3″ and weigh above 200? Do you know how livid I would be? I would literally slap someone if they told me something that ridiculous. Not because I was angry with them, but because I wanted to knock the early dementia out of them with love.

I have degrees from some pretty decent institutions of higher learning. I enjoyed my academic time and am proud of my alma maters. What if someone told me I HAD to date a woman who didn’t go to college? Or worse, if it was constantly implicated that because of my looks, I wasn’t up to the level of standard of what college educated women would want? What if women all of a sudden stopped valuing education, despite the fact that I’d been told basically since birth that the right thing to do was to load myself up with degrees like a Ghanaian immigrant fresh off the boat. I’d be jive pissed.

And the reality out there is that as much as we can tell women in the micro things that they can do to increase their chances or ways to stop scaring off men, the reality is when the music stops, there just aren’t enough chairs for everyone. Someone’s going to be left high an dry.

I can’t really fathom a situation in which I would have to deal with that as a reality. I mean my worst case scenario is basically, if I get a certain amount of old, I can basically pick out a woman who’s looking to get family life on and say “look, this is who I am and what I got, let’s get married and have some kids.” Now, this might not work the first time I ask it. But I doubt I’d have to ask it more than three or four times before I found  a taker. And this is the WORST case. The failsafe. Even in that situation, I still have probably at least a fairly attractive wife and some kids. The best case is that I basically get to have free rein in trying out every type of woman under the sun. I don’t have to worry abotu making a bad choice,  because there’s always the potential for another choice if the one I make doesn’t work out. And I don’t take that for granted as a luxury.

So Women, just from me, Brandon St. Randy feels for you.