He was a bullfrog (love that song) and the "Weeping Prophet" in the bible, however, this is not about a frog or a bug. Many summers ago, I named a grasshopper...
It’s getting bad. I find myself staring at brothers in the grocery store. And I notice everything. The shape of his eyes, the fullness of his lips… the line of his jaw. I can’t front – if I get a chance to check out the booty I do because MAN, brothers got it goin’ on. Sometimes I have to look away because I can feel a “Dayuuummm…bruh look good..” welling up inside me. One of these days I might just say it too. I can see it now. I break into a smile and he can’t help but smile back and then…..wifey comes running down the aisle with a last-minute item – grits or something — and catches us in smiles. Hmmm.
Believe it or not, as open as I am here, I am somewhat shy in person. I mean, I look and I am looked at but… that’s all that ever happens. While I’m bold in some areas of my life, that is one place I’m not. I recently developed a crush. After smiling like a goof and saying to myself, “I liiike him,” I realized that’s all it was. Man! Aren’t I a little old for crushes? I almost told him but decided against it. It has subsided… besides, I don’t think he sees me romantically.
Meeting men on the net is different because you deal with intellect and personality first. Anyone’s who’s been on the net for a minute usually has a picture – it might be from 1982 but hey – it’s a picture. The brothers I’m physically attracted to in public are not the ones I’m attracted to in cyberspace. In the street, the brother who looks like he’s got a little thug in him gets my attention. He could have a baldy, a fade, cornrows, afro or dreds. Pretty men are generally trouble because they know they’re pretty. And a pretty thug. Oh no. Can’t have that.
Shouts to all my Thugs. And Pretty Men. And Pretty Thugs.
Who approaches me? They’re either really young or really old. When I say old, I don’t mean mature gentleman, I’m talkin’ old enough to be my grand pappy. And when I say young it’s “Psssst! Yo. Can I talk to you for a second?” No. Now get on that yellow bus and go home.
One of the things I love about NYC is the amount of eye candy. When I’m in Manhattan, it’s actually kind of overwhelming. I’ve heard it said NYC has some of the most beautiful women in the world but egad… the men. But then…. every brother you could potentially speak to or meet has a story. Some have issues, some are married, and some are not interested in women at all. Some are alcoholics, some have strange fetishes – like, he’d want to smell your shoes or something. It’s gotta be the same for men. Who’s that sister, is that her real hair, has she always been a woman, what kinds of issues does she have?
What I’m trying to figure out at this stage of the game is how do you meet normal people? When I say normal I mean people like me of course. Whether that’s normal to you depends…. have they formed an underground cult? Do they have a website? I wonder if normalblackpeople.com is available. Hmmm…