Dear Kenyan Men,
Please, do not think you’re slick. You’re not.
I’ve already warned you about these ladies these days. I told you that they are the players we wish we could’ve been a decade or so ago. What I forgot to mention is the insurmountable level of vindictiveness with which they effect this role. So much so that they aren’t just a new generation of player, they changed the rules of the game.
Let me explain. Last night at about 2am, my phone chirped to life as a message came in. Fortunately, I was awake so I quickly read it. Wasn’t much to read frankly. Just two four letter words.
Now, I could’ve been bothered by the lack of punctuation because I’m a grammar Nazi; or the absence of the proverbial magic word ‘please'(or abracadabra, either works) as I’m weird about courtesy. But I was entirely too distracted by the fact I hadn’t spoken a word to said lass in months. So I immediately assumed it was a typo of some sort and the message was meant for her man – my boy – and replied ‘Hello to you too.’
She quickly replied clarifying that she knew who it was and had seen I was awake on Twitter and wanted me to go over to her house for…. wait for it ….a booty call.
I have standards and ascribe religiously to the Bro-Code so I didn’t hesitate to turn down the offer arguing that I was transportless, cashless and had work in the morning – all of which were true. The reality was that a) I wasn’t interested b) She had a man c) That man was my boy.
Her reply: “So I call a cab?”
At this point, I figured I’d just call her as the texting was getting mundane. As we talked, I came to learn what I had heard many times before: her man wasn’t taking care of business the way he should and so she need supplementary…ehem…room service. Not so much because of heat in the oven or whatever; she was just tired of feeling neglected.
Once upon a time, I would have answered that call. During my self-destructive post-breakup stupor, I admit that I provide support services for many a girl in need. It was a way of not only feeling like I was being a good Samaritan, but also getting some twisted redemption of knowing that I had actually been a good man in my past relationship. In most cases, it was just capricious flirting and teasing; in between time reminding them that they were worth more than they were getting, in other cases it was actually just a refresher course on what it feels like to have someone pay attention again; a jump-start to a stalled heart, if you will. In none of the cases was it sexual, per se.
Which led me to start thinking ‘You dudes are really f***in’ up out here.’ I mean, really, after some of the things I’ve been told, I have to wonder whether you men just become comfortable after bagging a good woman or if there’s some logic in letting a good thing go. Last I checked, it’s not fly fishing; you don’t catch, reel it in and then release and laze in the boat. You need to be on your A-game 24-7. I guarantee you that with the shortage of good women out there, you may want to start holding on to what you have at home. And don’t take comfort in knowing women are looking desperately too. Instead, go find that one single guy you know who perpetually strikes out. That guy who hasn’t been laid since 10 Cent coins were in circulation – and even then, he probably paid for it. Then imagine you were him. Imagine your life without that person who texts you in the morning as you brush your teeth and at night while you kick your pants off. Or better the one you wake up next to and go to sleep with. And what you need to realize is that every phonecall you don’t get or SMS you don’t receive or conversation you don’t have…is probably being given to someone else.
And that someone else could very well be me. So while you sleep tight, dreaming about work in the morning with your back turned to her, she’s sending me messages, asking me I’m awake. And while you’re out with your boys and she hasn’t seen you in days, she’s telling me to come over.
Or maybe it’s not me. Maybe it’s someone who actually will open his doors to her, and take that cab to your crib and then helping your woman twist your sheets. Or worse still, giving her a shoulder and chest to cry on. Maybe if you were a little more thankful for what you had, she wouldn’t be saying ‘Thank you’ to someone else.
Things to consider when the innumerable SMSes get annoying.
Either way, the odds are against you, sir. Like I said, there is bile in that venom and if you slip up, you will suffer in the worst way.
Be a good man, keep your good woman.
Random thought for a Thursday morning.