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Monday, October 17, 2011

DAMAGED

There is something to be said about a beautiful black man. Not only does he command attention, his mere presence make your heart skip a beat and your body temperature rise. He makes you think of naughty things you swore to your mamma you would never do and lie to your girlfriends about doing. Not to mention he will have you saying, "where have you been all of my life?" Indeed, you will be down on your knees thanking the Lord that you have finally found him. 

But let's be real, if all it took was a beautiful black man to satisfy all of our needs, I would be laying next to one right now instead of writing this piece.  And trust me, contrary to what all the magazines will have you believe there are no shortage of black men or men in general. Because let's be honest, even though we hate to admit it a majority of them have major issues.  Specifically, baby mama drama issues, (though,I despise the term) and crazy ex-girlfriend issues.  Also unemployment issues, mama issues, lack of ambitions, and the inability to accept NO.  And this is just to name a few.  In other words, they are damaged goods. Personally, I feel they should be a warning tag  attached to the ones with issues; something in the area of, "warning: damaged goods, take home at your own risk." In the same way when clothes are defective there is a warning tag that tells you it is damaged.  

Certainly, I am not just saying that to make a point, in fact I have had first hand experience in the damage goods department.  I remember it clearly as if it was yesterday. I met him on a bitter cold February day, just a few days before valentine day.   The streets were flooded with "I Love You" balloons and every side walk was decorated with an influx of more than the usual flower carts.  And as you can imagine being single, I was feeling the bitter more than the actual cold weather.  My friend whom I have known for years, who was in a committed loving relationship thought she might try to fix me up with a guy she knew, (of course unbeknownst to me) called me on the phone right before five o'clock and asked me to come with her to get her watch fix.  Having nothing to do after work, ( as usual) accept going home to my ungrateful children, (teenagers) I agreed to meet with her.  We arrived at this dirty old building in the middle of the diamond district area, took this scary old elevator and got off on the tiniest floor where the jewelry shop was located.  I don't know, but right there the red lights should have been flashing in front of me: Warning, warning, enter at your own risks.  Despite that, all I was thinking at the time was, this is the diamond district, people make and spent money here.  

There he was, 5'8, maybe 180 lbs and build to last, and boy did he last.  Fair skinned, brown eyes and nose that fit perfectly on his face. For anonymity I'll call him "Crown Royal," because that was his favorite liquor. Right there, I think I fell in love with "Crown Royal" and it showed in the way I was shamelessly flirting with him.  After many attempts to invite him out to dinner with us indirectly, I reluctantly gave up.  Undeterred I decided I would try to contact him through my friend later.  After he finished fixing her watch we headed out to Havana restaurant, on 39th street between 5th and 6th avenue to eat.  In between Cosmos and the best rice and beans in the city he was all I talked about. Finally I made my friend call him to give him my number but not before she interrogated him on what he thought of me. It was good enough for me when he told her I was cute and that he would definitely call me. A week after valentine day, he called. That should've been warning # 2 but I did not care because his voice was a symphony to my hears and I lost all my senses. 

Soon after that, we had our first date, and I was swept off my feet by his charms and easy smiles. And our chemistry was on fire. Throwing all cautions to the wind, I fell hard. Before I knew it, we were talking about babies and moving in together.    Eventually after several weeks of dating (by dating I really mean watching T.V. on the weekends, and drinking Crown Royal) he decided he was comfortable enough to ask me for a loan.  Warning #3. Apparently, all his money went to his bitter ex-wife for child support, whom by the way, up until recently he was trying to reconciled with.  Warning #4. Of course without hesitation, I gave him the loan because after all it was for a good cause. He explained, he needed to travel to Florida to expand his jewelry business.  It turned out the first trip to Florida was not very successful, and as a result he needed to go back again. But not before he decided that things between us was moving too fast and therefore needed to slow down. Warning #5. The second trip to Florida was proving to be beneficial and as a result he needed to stay longer. By then, the phone calls were becoming less and less and my calls were being sent to voicemail more often than I care to admit. Warning #6.  To make matters worse, when I did speak to him it became painfully clear that I was not clear on when he was coming back because he was very vague when asked. Needless to say, it was not long before I realized this was a bad romance and I needed to find the nearest exit out of this damaged good department.  And as for the loan, well, let's just say I am not holding my breath.  

In spite all that, I did not give up, because I kept telling myself sooner or later one good one will rise to the occasion. Just keep an open mind and most importantly, an open heart.   

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DAMAGED

There is something to be said about a beautiful black man. Not only does he command attention, his mere presence make your heart skip a beat and your body temperature rise. He makes you think of naughty things you swore to your mamma you would never do and lie to your girlfriends about doing. Not to mention he will have you saying, "where have you been all of my life?" Indeed, you will be down on your knees thanking the Lord that you have finally found him. 

But let's be real, if all it took was a beautiful black man to satisfy all of our needs, I would be laying next to one right now instead of writing this piece.  And trust me, contrary to what all the magazines will have you believe there are no shortage of black men or men in general. Because let's be honest, even though we hate to admit it a majority of them have major issues.  Specifically, baby mama drama issues, (though,I despise the term) and crazy ex-girlfriend issues.  Also unemployment issues, mama issues, lack of ambitions, and the inability to accept NO.  And this is just to name a few.  In other words, they are damaged goods. Personally, I feel they should be a warning tag  attached to the ones with issues; something in the area of, "warning: damaged goods, take home at your own risk." In the same way when clothes are defective there is a warning tag that tells you it is damaged.  

Certainly, I am not just saying that to make a point, in fact I have had first hand experience in the damage goods department.  I remember it clearly as if it was yesterday. I met him on a bitter cold February day, just a few days before valentine day.   The streets were flooded with "I Love You" balloons and every side walk was decorated with an influx of more than the usual flower carts.  And as you can imagine being single, I was feeling the bitter more than the actual cold weather.  My friend whom I have known for years, who was in a committed loving relationship thought she might try to fix me up with a guy she knew, (of course unbeknownst to me) called me on the phone right before five o'clock and asked me to come with her to get her watch fix.  Having nothing to do after work, ( as usual) accept going home to my ungrateful children, (teenagers) I agreed to meet with her.  We arrived at this dirty old building in the middle of the diamond district area, took this scary old elevator and got off on the tiniest floor where the jewelry shop was located.  I don't know, but right there the red lights should have been flashing in front of me: Warning, warning, enter at your own risks.  Despite that, all I was thinking at the time was, this is the diamond district, people make and spent money here.  

There he was, 5'8, maybe 180 lbs and build to last, and boy did he last.  Fair skinned, brown eyes and nose that fit perfectly on his face. For anonymity I'll call him "Crown Royal," because that was his favorite liquor. Right there, I think I fell in love with "Crown Royal" and it showed in the way I was shamelessly flirting with him.  After many attempts to invite him out to dinner with us indirectly, I reluctantly gave up.  Undeterred I decided I would try to contact him through my friend later.  After he finished fixing her watch we headed out to Havana restaurant, on 39th street between 5th and 6th avenue to eat.  In between Cosmos and the best rice and beans in the city he was all I talked about. Finally I made my friend call him to give him my number but not before she interrogated him on what he thought of me. It was good enough for me when he told her I was cute and that he would definitely call me. A week after valentine day, he called. That should've been warning # 2 but I did not care because his voice was a symphony to my hears and I lost all my senses. 

Soon after that, we had our first date, and I was swept off my feet by his charms and easy smiles. And our chemistry was on fire. Throwing all cautions to the wind, I fell hard. Before I knew it, we were talking about babies and moving in together.    Eventually after several weeks of dating (by dating I really mean watching T.V. on the weekends, and drinking Crown Royal) he decided he was comfortable enough to ask me for a loan.  Warning #3. Apparently, all his money went to his bitter ex-wife for child support, whom by the way, up until recently he was trying to reconciled with.  Warning #4. Of course without hesitation, I gave him the loan because after all it was for a good cause. He explained, he needed to travel to Florida to expand his jewelry business.  It turned out the first trip to Florida was not very successful, and as a result he needed to go back again. But not before he decided that things between us was moving too fast and therefore needed to slow down. Warning #5. The second trip to Florida was proving to be beneficial and as a result he needed to stay longer. By then, the phone calls were becoming less and less and my calls were being sent to voicemail more often than I care to admit. Warning #6.  To make matters worse, when I did speak to him it became painfully clear that I was not clear on when he was coming back because he was very vague when asked. Needless to say, it was not long before I realized this was a bad romance and I needed to find the nearest exit out of this damaged good department.  And as for the loan, well, let's just say I am not holding my breath.  

In spite all that, I did not give up, because I kept telling myself sooner or later one good one will rise to the occasion. Just keep an open mind and most importantly, an open heart.