It’s happened on a few occasions, and it’s always quite frustrating. You find a sister who piques your interest. Of course, what draws you in is that superficial attraction. Not to sound shallow, but no one walks into a room and sees the ugliest person in there and say: “Oh DAMN! I gotta get her number!”
You make your approach. It’s a bit like double dutch: trying to find the rhythm before you jump in. But, once you catch the vibe it’s like recess all over again.
That night is a “hit” of sorts. Not that it was “the best night in the world.” No, it doesn’t even have to be close to that good. In the superfluous nature of today’s “pop culture aficionados,” expectations have indeed been lowered. It’s a sweet pleasure to find someone who can speak in complete sentences, and knows a mere trifle of substantive information.
Wow! Did we just laugh about something that had nothing to do with a reality show? Did you just get excited about a song that wasn’t demanding that you shake your ass? Wait, you mean you don’t want to drown away your life in a torrential sea of boos? ; Word.
This might be worth an exchange. You trade numbers and part ways. You think you found one: still alive…
However long it takes to engage, you finally do. And things go smoothly. I mean, how could they not…in the beginning your conversation consists of those niceties infused with wit and playful sarcasm. But, like Alice in Wonderland, you’ve dropped down the rabbit hole and are compelled to find out just how deep it goes.
Now you’re forced to talk without the social accouterments that allow one to disguise their ignorance. You have expended the surface-level topics and in order to continue this “getting to know you” process you must dig deeper.
Surely, every hole has a bottom. But DAMN! ; Anti-intellectualism is killing us!
Yes, girl…you are fine…gorgeous actually. But, your external beauty is a transient thing that has its limits. Sooner or later, a brotha is gonna loose interest in that. I mean, I can only think of two uses for a solely external beauty. On the arm as a trophy and in the bedroom. Where do we go once that’s expended?
I’ve dated a couple of you. You think that your physical beauty is going to carry you through. All your life your head’s been “gassed up” by men – from Daddy, to first love, to all others – proclaiming your beauty. Did they lie? ; Hell naw! ; It is true…physically you are fine. But DAMN! Anti-intellectualism is killing us!
I think I’m gonna start carding women before I date them. I think I need to see library cards. I need to see your personal book catalogues! And, I’m not looking for the latest romance novels, murder mysteries, etc. I wanna see something with some substance…something that’s going to beautify your mind! Ignorance is a contagious disease and I’m fighting hard not to catch it. At first sight of the affliction, I have to run.
There’s something immensely sexy about a woman who’s well read. There’s something alluring about a woman with a book that makes you do some research before you come back to speak with her. There’s an ever-expanding beauty that belongs to the mind.
It’s such a waste of beauty when a beautiful woman does nothing to beautify her mind. It’s such a turn off. It’s, frankly, a waste of time.
So this broad approaches me in the bar and says: “what happened? Why’d you stop calling? I was so looking forward to fu*king you proper…” Another broad @replies me on twitter, “@Jah_Bread, where you been stranger?” Another broad texts me: “so, you not talking to me no more.” So it continues…
And, if you wonder why: “because the broad ain’t have no books…”