“Hey, this is Pineapple*.  I was just calling to say hi.  Haven’t spoken to you in awhile…”

Ah winter.  Cold nights.  Lonely, empty beds.  The inevitable search through the contacts list to see who they would like to come warm them up.  Guess what?  We know what you’re doing.  And we’re not interested (well, I guess that’s not entirely true…guys only try things that have worked for them in the past…so some girl must be interested).

“Come ova. - Apache Chief”

But shouldn’t there be an expiration date on these type of things?  If a year has gone by since the last time I even SAW you – and a good two since the last time we were intimate with each other – can you not call me out of the blue “just to see what’s up?”  And if the last time I saw you, you were with another girl…and months have passed…can you not text me telling me to come over?  Come over though?  Really? 

What’s most irritating about these situations is the assumption that I’m still single (or maybe the most irritating part is the fact that I AM still single).  Enough time has gone by since we last talked that I could be married.  I could be pregnant.  I could have had a child!  And you text me telling me to come over?  Seriously?

“I’m not with my wife anymore and I miss you. – MG

And this one…

*names have been changed to protect the guilty

I met him.  The quintessential “just a pretty face.”

He walked into the room and my roommate and I both could not turn away.  If he’s straight – he’s mine.  If he’s gay – he’s yours.  We both agreed.  I turned to my friend, who is also his landlord, and asked her how she is able to live with that every single day without being in heat!  She says “Eh…I’m not into him.”  That should have been a sign.

Some men should just not open their mouths.  It ruins the pretty picture.

The second his mouth opened, I heard it.  A perfect male body with a brain that has trouble taking words and putting them into nice, neat, interesting sentences.  The true definition of the theory that incredibly good looking men lack any real personality, because they’ve always gotten through life on their looks.  They’ve never really had to put any effort into getting a woman, because women always come to them.  And…let’s not forget…they’re never usually any good in bed…because they’ve never had to be.

No thank you.  If I want to do all the work, I don’t need you there, now do I?

What I’m about to say might be a little controversial.  Let that be a warning.  It’s in the news almost every day.  You can’t escape it.  On my ride this morning, I heard yet another story of it being taken to the next level.  And since I’ve been thinking about this off and on lately, I think it’s about time I open it up for discussion.   Can men really be faithful?  Like…really.

Does anyone know a man who is in a relationship and has never cheated on his wife or girlfriend?  Never booked another girl’s number.  Never accidently kissed that chick.  Never got so drunk that it just happened.  Never had “just a friend.”  Never had to use the line “but, baby, you know I love you. ..she means nothing to me…”

Because I don’t.  And that really has gotten me thinking.  Is it something that’s just not in their nature?  Should we stop expecting men to be faithful?  If  women were to eliminate the time we spend wondering and worrying about and sneaking and spying on men and what they do when we’re not around, how much energy do you think we would save?  How much happier do you think we could be if we never once had the concern that if he goes out with “that friend” he might get too drunk and something might happen?  What if no woman ever had to brag about have the gift to hack into any man’s voicemail?  What if guys no longer had to put passwords on their cell phones, because their girls were no longer interested in checking their recent calls and texts?

Honestly, I might be probably am jaded.  But, there comes a time when logic wins.  And I have learned in my 26 years on this earth that you can’t make a man do anything.  If a man wants to cheat on you, he is going to.  Some are better at it than others.  Some don’t give two shits who knows.  Some have only done it once.  But they’ve all done it.

And to the woman who results to following him at night, putting spyware on his computer, checking his email – what do you get from that?  You can’t possibly feel any better.  Woman’s intuition is a motherfucker, and you already know the truth.  And now that you have proof of the truth, what are you going to do?  How many women go through all of that and then just turn the other cheek?

Essentially, I’m thinking that those rich Fifth Avenue wives might have it right.  Accept the fact that he’s going to cheat.  Hope that he loves you enough to do it in a “respectful” manner.  And live your life without that fear or concern hanging over your head.

*I know the obvious health issues.  For the purpose of this conversation, let’s put them to the side.

Woah, you really turn me on
So, I, I really hope I’m wrong
Woah, woah

It would break my world
If you ain’t true to me, yeah
But I’m not the silly girl I use to be
No, y’all know how it goes, yeah

Dudes out here think they slick
Got a lot of girls on they
Di-di-di-di-dick
(And they can’t say no)
Steady tellin’ me they ain’t you
I’m a wait to see what you gon’ do
(Hope you know you got a good thing, yeah)

I got this crazy feelin’
I’m gon’ be single again
I know it, I can feel it
I know you gonna mess up
(Ahh, ahh)
I got this crazy feelin’
I’m gon’ be single lookin’
I know it, it’s gone happen (happen)
I know you gonna mess up

I, love the way that we vibe
So, I hope this under mine
Baby don’t you know

It would break my world
If you ain’t true to me, yeah
But I’m not the silly girl I use to be
See I know how it goes, yeah

Dudes out here think they slick
Got a lot of girls on they
Di-di-di-di-dick
(But they don’t say no)
Steady tellin’ me they ain’t you
I’m a wait to see what you gon’ do
(Hope you know you got a good thing, cause I)

I got this crazy feelin’
I’m gon’ be single lookin’
I know it, I can feel it
I know you gonna mess up
I got this crazy feelin’
I’m gon’ be single lookin’
I know it, it’s gone happen
I know you gonna mess up

You’re gonna get too comfortable
(You gon’ mess up)
Gonna want something new, babe
(You gon’ mess up)
You’re gonna be just like the rest
(You gon’ mess up)
It’s gonna be you, babe

I trust my heart
Put down my guard
I work so hard to take good care of you

I trust my heart
Put down my guard
I work so hard
I hope it ain’t true

I hope it’s in my mind

 

-Keri Hilson

Ever since the tender age of 17, I’ve had a pretty strong stance on the married men issue.

And then one day, I up and forgot that stance.  And I didn’t like the way it felt.  So, I rebounded and a conversation in which I told him that I just couldn’t do it…but, if he wanted, we could be friends.  He responded by telling me it was best that we didn’t communicate.   That’s fine.

But, you could imagine my surprise when he texts me a month later telling me that he misses me.  I told him I didn’t blame him…but, we’re not friends, so there’s no reason for us to communicate.  And then there was the Saturday night he started texting me around 12:30 am.  Now, if you know me, you know that 9 times out of 10, I’m under the influence of something by 12:30 am on Saturday nights, so my responses to him were far from friendly and more of the mocking type.  At some point, he confused me for one of “those girls” and told me he had fallen in love with me.  No.  You didn’t.  What do I look like?  Leave me alone and go to sleep.

The last straw was when he texted me after that, saying he thought we should go to dinner.  And when I told him that since I offered him my friendship, and he turned me down, I just don’t understand why he kept texting me – he called me mean.  Is it really mean of me to not want to be someone’s mistress?  Is it mean of me to tell you not to cheat on your wife?

And when did it become so common place for married men to openly hit on me?  Aren’t they supposed to lie at first, and then later on, once they have convinced themselves that they’ve won me over, let me in on their little secret?  The last two guys I met (I am, admittedly, going through a dry spell) have been married.  One of them told me that it was okay – his wife respected his pimpin’, and if I met someone new, he might even be willing to let me go!

Now, that’s so romantical.

So, I met a boy.  Wait…they don’t like that, do they?  Ok, so, I met a man.  And in meeting this “man” (take a guess why I put that in quotes) I have learned a few things about women (unfortunately, myself included).

So, this “man” has a job.  And a night job.  And lives alone.  Owns his own car.  Goes to church on Sundays.

And I don’t trust him.

Is that sad?  Yea, it is.  I can say it myself.  But, I keep looking around for clues that it’s all an act.  I mean, no real “man” works two jobs without court orders from a judge to pay back child support.  And do men go to Church without their wife and kids? 

And what I’ve learned is that women all think this way.  Not one female that I have mentioned this to has disagreed.  I have gotten comments regarding his behavior as to what signs mean he’s probably not married.  But, we’re all thinking the same.

Why do we do this?  Why is it impossible for women to trust that a man can actually just be responsible on his own?  Is it just because we’re all damaged?  Because we all have been/have a friend who has been/have a friend who knows someone who has been played hard by a man with serious game?  A married man who always forgot his wedding ring and had a secret apartment where he would bring his girlfriends?  A man with a girlfriend who he can’t see during the day, so he tells the other chicks that he works nights?

And sadly, the whole day job/night job thing is something I think about enough to have mentioned it to him.  But, to prevent me from seeming as crazy as I’m sure it could seem, I also asked him if he was a prostitute, stripper, murderer or secret drug dealer.

So, I made it.  “Ha!  You’re alone!” Valentine’s day has come and gone and I am still alive.  Barely.  Allow me to tell you a little tale. 

I found myself a little needy…a little down in the dumps the week preceding the 14th of February.  And the fact that all the guys who are in my contacts list…even the ones who call/text me constantly and I don’t answer….deleted my number on the 12th and didn’t remember it again until the 16th.  But I’m not even going to touch that.

And I went to sleep bright and early the evening of the 13th.  Which nicely led to me being awake at 9 am Saturday morning (now, those who know me know that I don’t really do “am” on the weekends),  So I stayed in bed the entire morning, trying to make myself fall asleep.  And finally, I got up, got dressed and went to run an errand.  And do you know where that got me?

I nicely returned to my building and got on an elevator with two gentlemen delivering roses.  Beautiful roses.  And as I pressed the button for my floor, and looked towards these two men, I asked them if either of them were going to the 16th floor (please?  secret admirer maybe?).

No.

One of them tried to calm my nerves with a “Maybe next time” response.

No.

But, I made it.  The 14th came and went and I lived through it.  And I had a date.  His name was vodka.  And he was VERY nice to me.

I have of late become overwhelmed by the number of guys who apparenly have a new found interest in my vagina.  I am not delusioned.  I know they are not interested in my mind.  Or my words.  Or my laugh.  Just my vagina.  Maybe my booty too.  But…I’m really over it.  I don’t know what happened.  2009 came in and I just couldn’t take it anymore.

It’s actually quite funny because I remember waking up at about 2 pm on January 1, 2009 and deciding that this was going to be the year all about me and I was going to be as carefree (read: loose) as I wanted to be!  And then my phone starts ringing.

And it’s bullshit.

There’s nothing like having a guy you haven’t spoken to in 9 months call you out the blue and invite himself over to your house.  And then tell you off when you say no.  And then to have another guy you haven’t spoken to in 7 months call you over and over again…to come “chill”.  And then to have a guy you haven’t spoken to in a month call you at 3:05 on a Monday morning.  And to have someone you haven’t spoken to since Thanksgiving send you weekly texts that just say “Hey”…as he tries to wear you down and get you to respond.

It all makes you think.  As my darling, loving best friend said to me…maybe this is just how they ALL see me.  And I don’t like it.  It’s kind of funny actually.  Because I really thought that’s all I wanted.  But when it’s thrown in your face with too many different guys…all at the same time…all with the same lines…it becomes too much.  Way too much.  And, I’d rather not deal with it at all.

So my 2009 goals have changed.  Stay tuned.

Ok, I remember when I first heard of these things.  I always thought they were supposed to be for the…well endowed shall we say?  But as I have grown older, I have discovered this not to be true.  In fact, one of the LEAST endowed men I’ve ever seen was a user of said condoms. 

How did this happen?  Is it that all men know the connotation, and think they should have them, no matter what?  Do they not know how misleading that is?  Like, if I go in your medicine cabinet or nightstand, and that’s what I find, I’m going to have certain expectations.  And when you can’t meet them…it’s more of a let down than you could imagine…

I have debates with my friends on who is more “on fire” amongst us.  As in most debates I have, I’m usually right.  The debate I had last night was not as easy to settle.

I define one’s fire-ness by using simple numbers.  If we’re out, and 15 guys try to get with you and 3 guys try to get with her, then you were more on fire than she was.  Simple math.  15 is greater than 3.

But my friend has decided that one’s fire-osity should depend on the quality of guys that are coming at you.  So, if 15 guys try to get with you, but they’re all 2s and 3s, and the 3 guys that try to get with her are all 7s and 8s, then she is more on fire than you are.  Because her guys, while fewer, were of a much better quality.

I think my reasoning is better.  Mostly because I think we all would rate guys differently.  There are plenty of guys that my friends have dated that I would consider a 3 and they would consider an 8.  And vice versa.   Therefore, I do believe I won that debate too.

Thanks.