Lies That Sound True

Follow up to yesterday's discussion.

Why so many sisters be lying?

Before the eyes start rolling and folks get pissed off, I don't mean that black women just lie in general. Nah, I don't say stupid shit like that anymore.

What I'm talking about is when sisters put on their "progressive, liberated, open-minded" mask in order to look good in public. It's the same mask worn by a lot of the sisters who commented on this post by The Field Negro.

Now, this doesn't have anything to do with the post Field made. His comments were on-point, and any man who has ever been in a relationship with a woman understands how you have to use trickiness to sneak peeks at random fine sisters. My pops passed along a great strategy to me once I got serious with wife, but before we were married.

Pops said that when you're out with your wife and a fine woman is approaching, you take your time and enjoy the view while the woman is a good distance off. Then, when the woman gets right up on you, you barely give her a glance as she walks past. Just a brief head turn, but no real looking. See, if you didn't look at all, your woman would be suspicious, but if you take that quick peek then she is convinced you're not really interested. And you've already gotten the extended view without your wife noticing.

Genius.

Field's post wasn't the problem. The problem was all the intelligent sisters who commented on it and started lying through their teeth about how they don't mind if their man looks at beautiful women while they are out as long as it's done in a respectful manner. They said their men don't have to use subterfuge because they would even go so far as to point out fine sisters for them to look at.

A bunch of damn liars.

There may be some sisters who truly are confident and cool enough to encourage their men to check out that stallion in a halter top and daisy dukes, but I ain't met them. Maybe some women are so secure that when another woman with a bright future behind her walks by, they are the first ones to pat their man on the arm so he can appreciate the view.

Like I said, I just ain't met them.

Nah, what I've found is a bunch of beautiful intelligent women who tell you that it's okay to check out the menu if you're fasting, but then rip you a new asshole when you start examining the daily specials. A much larger new asshole too.

Look, I don't begrudge women the right to get mad when they catch their man sneaking a peek. I'm not one of those men who is going to argue that y'all should be ok with it because we're just looking. The Good Book says that the devil loves to work with the lust of the eyes, the lust of the flesh and the pride of life. And during the summertime, Satan has a lot of material to work with when it comes to the those first two categories.

Looking too much can lead to problems at home whether it's actual infidelity, or a general loss of intimacy and confidence. I know I would never give my wife permission to start checking out diesel cats on the street, and if I catch her we gonna have beef. So, by no means am I telling women to stop policing their husbands or boyfriend's eyes. That's y'all's job.

What I'm asking is that you be upfront about it. If you're ok with a brief sideways glance, tell a brother that's all he gets. If you're ok with a longer look and a quiet "damn" then God bless you. But, if you want your man to keep his eyes on the road don't go around telling him that it's ok for him to take in the scenery. Men prefer clear directions, we don't like to figure shit out.

Let's keep it simple.

Paging Prince Charming

I've been doing this marriage thing for about two-and-a half years now.

It's been a wild ride.

Not wild like a roller coaster, but more like driving through thick fog down an unfamiliar country road. While there may be ups and downs, it's the abrupt changes in direction that are the true challenges.

My wife and I got together after knowing each other for years as friends, and that made for an interesting transition when we tried the whole romance thing. Actually, the switch wasn't as hard for me as it was for my wife because I had been crushing on her since middle school, while she previously saw me as the plump kid who liked to read. Honestly, I had been plotting on her for years before I saw my opening.

What I'm trying to say is that me and missus didn't have that magical love at first sight thing that gets played up in all those sappy movies. Nope, our relationship was more tortoise than hare. In fact, while I have been known to break out a massive romantic gesture when I really mess up, for the most part I'm a fairly pragmatic, plodding husband.

I may forget the flowers, but the rent will always be paid.

I thought about my pathway to matrimony recently when a friend of mine sent me an article on marriage and love. You can check out that article here.

The basic premise of the article, at least the way I understood it, was that women need to give up on their fantasies of Prince Charming and settle for Leroy the Plumber. Apparently, waiting around for Mr. Right makes a lot less sense than settling for Mr. Good Enough.

You know, while I understand and agree with many of the points made by the author of the column, in some ways I think my opinion is fairly irrelevant. After all, worrying about finding the perfect mate seems to be the domain of women, not men.

I actually came to this conclusion back in college at Howard University. I distinctly remember this one young lady explaining to me that most girls view college as the prime time to find a husband. She noted that in the "real world" it was going to be much more difficult to find a pool of eligible black bachelors comparable to the one available at The Mecca. She then told me that after they turn 35, women are more likely to get struck by lighting than they are to get married.

Whoa.

When she dropped that depressing factoid on me my first reaction was disbelief. Not at the idea that women rarely get married after age 35 because I could easily believe that those pickings were slim.

Nah, I was shocked that she was even thinking about this kind of crap in college. The fact that women were trying to sift through the various weedheads, misogynists and dirtbags on campus looking for a life partner put them a distinct competitive advantage. It's almost like trying to find Bill Clinton's soul.

Difficult.

For me and most of my college friends, marriage was like the economic status of Chinese peasants; the furthest thing from our minds. Any heterosexual male who has attended an HBCU, particularly those chosen few who have strolled across The Yard in spring, understands that the ratio of women to men on campus makes it damn near impossible to think of yourself as anything but a squirrel in a forest of oak trees.

It's all about getting some nuts.

See, most men and women approach marriage from two totally different perspectives. Both genders see it as a probable destination, but women see it as that perfect tropical vacation, while men view it as federal prison. I would estimate that roughly 90 percent of women have spent part of their childhood planning the details of their eventual nuptials.

The estimate for men is hovering right around zero.

As bad as it sounds, even the most fugly of men is convinced that if he really wanted to, he could find a decent woman to settle down with. And, while she might not be the fantasy girl from his solo trysts in the bathroom, she would be good enough. Most men don't obsess over settling in marriage because most of us spend very little brainpower thinking about marriage period.

This doesn't mean that men can't be picky or have impossible expectations when it comes to their potential mates. In fact, most of us are so picky we think nothing of expecting any woman we would even consider for marriage to be a combination of Claire Huxtable and Vanessa Del Rio.

However, men long ago learned that if the other person wants you more than you want them, you always win. As long as women want to get married more than men do, men will typically get to marry a little bit closer to their fantasy.

So, while the column's author thought she was dispensing some rare wisdom with her exhortation that independent, career-oriented women abandon their high standards and be practical, I actually think she's late to the party. Not only have women been settling for centuries, but even the most idealist, modern striver understands in the deepest recesses of her mind that settling is probably her eventual fate.

How else can you explain the ratio of hot women to ugly guys on sitcoms?