A Single Girl’s Lament.

So I’ve pretty much realized that aside from getting back together with my ex, my chance of ending the single thing is a hell of a long shot. I always wondered why so many of my friends thought it was a miracle that I had a man all this time, and now I realize what the deal really is. There just aren’t enough guys out there who can measure up. Or more correctly, there aren’t enough who are willing to.

In the navigation of my new-somewhat-sort-of-pretty-much-single-hood, I’ve realized that though the game hasn’t changed, it’s that I don’t fit the uniform anymore (I spent 10 minutes trying to work out that metaphor…. lol) I have too many factors working against me and weighing me down to float in the average dating pool, and it’s baffling. Absolutely baffling. Lets break it down, shall we? Not to toot my own horn, but just try and rant and understand what the hell is going on here lol, and what exactly it is that makes me so unattainable/unattractive/not even worth the effort.

1. I’m intelligent. Yes, I have a college degree. No, it wasn’t from an HBCU. And no, I wasn’t lazy enough to spend 5+ years on it. Not just that I’m nerdy and booksmart, but on occasion I do things that make me more intelligent, voluntarily. Go figure. Like, read actual BOOKS from time to time. A man approached me on the train Friday and asked me what/why I was reading. First of all he couldn’t wrap his head around the premise of the book, and then he didn’t understand why I was reading for enjoyment, rather than a class assignment. So apparently the desire to expand my intellect is a strike against me, because really, what average black man wants to discuss anything more in-depth than how I managed to get my butt into my jeans?

1.5. I will call you on your bullshit. If you don’t have the decency to make an appropriate and considerable effort to win my attention, I will ignore your calls, text messages, emails, Fbook messages, at will, as I see fit. No, I’m not going to chase you. You can give me your number all you want, but I’m not going to use it. Is it so much to ask for a little effort? What is it with guys assuming that a girl is lucky to receive their attention? I mean I’ve heard that the male:female ratio is ridonkulous here in ATL, but do you really expect my standards to be that low? Can we ressurrect chivalry? No, I’m not just going to smile and acquiesce when you ask me what I’m doing at 4 o’clock in the morning. I’m SLEEPING DUMB-DUMB. Yes, I will inspect you when you pull up behind me demanding a dance. And yes, I will send your behind packing if I do not approve. Don’t stare if you don’t plan to back it up with a “Hello”. Don’t like it? Well apparently there are plenty out there aside from me. Take your pick.

2. I have high standards. And I’m not compromising them. Because damnit, I know what I deserve.
Polo? Good. Polo to your knees? Bad.
Fly sunglasses? Good. Fly Sunglasses in a dark club? Foolish, and Bad.
Nice Car? Good. Too-nice car when you’re still renting an apartment? Bad.
Texting to hang out? Good. Calling to hang out? Better. Booty Calling? BAD.
Went to College? Good. Dropped out to start your club promoting company? BAD.

Whatever happened to wanting to get to know someone? Vertically? and in broad daylight? And guys who are serious about a career that doesn’t involve “models” and 10pm-2am work shifts? I live in the “Black Mecca”, a city with like 6 HBCU’s and there are no educated upwardly-mobile men available? It’s not even like I’m looking for anything remotely serious here. Is it so much to ask that I find a worthy individual to occupy my time in the meantime? Am I reaching for the stars here? I think not.

3. Apparently dress the part, but don’t act like it. There’s a Dave Chappelle stand-up somewhere where he talks about girls getting indignant about how they’re treated based on how their dressed. Now let me be honest; I enjoy a slightly inappropriate outfit from time to time lol. Short skirt here, lil’ cleavage there, cool with me. Those things are to be seen, NOT TOUCHED. And that goes for any girl, whore or not: Don’t touch without permission, fellas. Not a difficult concept. And repeatedly sliding your hand back towards those forbidden areas after you’ve been otherwise instructed will result in one of two things: a lonely 2nd half of a song, or a shove and the boo-boo face. Neither one are fun.

4. I’m Bougie/Uppity/Stuck Up/However you want to put it. DEAL. I’m sorry but I will NEVER be the chick to respond to the “Aye Shawty’s or the Come ‘Ere Guh’s or the Pssssts or the Whistles or whatever other barbaric way guys have adopted to get a females’ attention. But nooooo. All I ask for is a simple “Hey, How are you doing?” and I’m too much to handle. I’m a big fan of manners, grammar, proper speech and syntax. I didn’t go through 16 years of private school education for nothing. I’m going to use it, and unfortunately I’m going to expect the same from you. Apparently that’s setting the bar too high. 

5. I’m mean. Yea I can be a bitch. I’m aware. Reminding me as I turn you down (for any one of the previous reasons) is soooo distasteful, is not going to get you anywhere, and will not make me change my attitude. Let it go. Find an easier girl.

(<–Which is probably what this all boils down to: I’M NOT EASY. PSA: Adjust your approach accordingly.)

So for these reasons (and probably more that I haven’t considered) being black, educated, and having some shred of self-respect seems to beget loneliness in the big bad dating world. Maybe I’ll become a lesbian.

OK, maybe not.


One Response to “A Single Girl’s Lament.”

  1. Wow! As Jenelle said above, this is an excellent summary! It's like you took the words out of my mind. lol.

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