One of my very favorite publications, Time Out NY, recently surveyed 5o single women about dating life in New York. Having been a single woman in New York, I can completely sympathize with these ladies, however, I understand how the amount of cynicism may be alarming to others, especially the fellas.
Take Kisha for instance:
So do you date at all?
No, not right now. I don’t have time for niggas. Ooh! ’Scuse me—I don’t have time for men! Sorry, sorry. Turn that around: I don’t have time for men. It’s not worth it anymore.
Hahahahahaha! That’s brilliant but before you guys get your Calvins all in a bunch you’ve gotta understand that Ms. Kisha was just tellin’ it like it is. And perhaps more importantly, she ain’t the only one who is done with your stank asses. Maybe it’s time you should understand why.
See guys, Kisha may be completely done with the male species all together, but this is not true of all women. Instead, most of us are forced to separate the male species into two very distinct categories: men and niggas. Kisha may have said she is done with men, but maybe a more accurate phrase would be what “I don’t have time for niggas” not “I don’t have time for men” because really, men are the only type of male worth anyone’s time in the first place.
Allow me to put this in simpler terms: men handle their business and take responsibility for their actions whereas niggas are always blaming somebody else for their problems, hangin’ perpetually out on front street. However, the line between who is a nigga and who isn’t can vary from person to person. For you blockheads out there, let’s take a real life example.
It’s a Wednesday evening in the city and I am running around Union Square like a crazy person trying to finish a few after-work errands so that I can make some silly open bar in an hour. I’m just about finished so I decide to stop at a bodega and grab some coffee before I get on the train when on my way out I hear a hiss. Actually, it was more like a psssssssst. The exact same psst I’ve heard come out of many a hoodrats mouth, so I knew to ignore it and keep on walking. Only, as I walked away I heard it again, but louder.
Pssssssssst!
What the fuck. I clearly don’t want to talk to you so leave me alone, I thought, but I foolishly turned around anyway so that I could see what creatures had crawled out after me. Turns out it was some Puerto Rican dude who was probably about 27 or 28 and was leaning against the bodega smoking an L. He was definately cute, but not at all cute enough for me to miss my open bar for. Plus, he just psst’ed at me.
I had places to go so I kept it movin’, but as I turned my head back towards the street he took it to that next level.
Heeeeeey Mami! MA! MA! Girl, you know you hear me, ma. I saw you look at me. Girl, you is so sexy. Come here! I just want to get to know you.
What? You just want to get to know me? No, you just want to know what it feels like to be up inside of me. Ain’t that what you meant to say? Ugh, and he wasn’t done yet.
Ma, you don’t know the things I would do to you.
Whatever, I thought, but right when I thought I was far enough away that he’ll just give up and harrass someone else he yells, right down mu’fuckin’ 14th street:
MA! MA!!!!!!! I wanna eat that pussy girl! Let me at that clit!
Oh hell no. Maybe I didn’t hear you correctly because I know you didn’t just yell that shit down the street at me? Not only that, but considering how loud he yelled it, two other guys thought it warranted a response from them as well- one dude outside the Dunkin Donuts whistled at me and then some business man in front of me looked back and winked as if that was gonna make me drop to the ground and spread my legs.
Now, who do you think was a nigga in this situation? The Rican, the Whistler, or the Business Man?
If you answered all of the above, you are correct. Why you might ask? Because niggas don’t know how to act right and every single one of them acted like a monkey in heat. AND just like Kisha, I ain’t got time to be fuckin’ around with guys like that e.g. niggas.
So, if you’re a real man and you knows how to talk to a woman with respect then halleluyah hollaback. I see no problem there. But, if you still think it’s cute to psst and whistle and yell at obscene things at women, then I suggest you peep the rest of the article:
http://www.timeout.com/newyork/article/613/8789/single-minded
xoxo,
Lady Half-Breed
July 3, 2007 at 4:49 am
um nobody wants to eat your pussy…stop frontin’
July 4, 2007 at 5:53 pm
nobody wants to eat yours either.
July 4, 2007 at 5:54 pm
or should I just say love your pussy, hope it wins?
July 16, 2007 at 1:51 pm
Girl it is way too real in these streets. Yesterday somebody stopped and whispered at me, “baby mother.”
no.
July 17, 2007 at 11:05 pm
oh.hell.no.
August 22, 2007 at 2:39 am
Lmao. I noticed that when I worked in NY. Funny thing is that a lot of guys keep doing that because they get successful pretty often. It was never my M.O. but cold-calling women on the street is not too easy.