EPIPHANY

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Pimp Wimp

I’m wondering, do I have the word “desperate” tattooed on my forehead?  Something must be tattooed up there because I swear I am a magnet for the cheesiest of pick up lines.  If you’ve been reading the blog for a while, you remember the story about the guy and the “drinking the bathwater” comment.  There was also the guy that decided to call me “Number 8” because of the Obama ’08 T-shirt.  As tragically funny as those incidents were, I’ve found that I get the cheesiest lines in response to the “I don’t eat meat” statement.

Maybe I must look like someone that eats meat.  Maybe the surplus of wing spots and chitterling selling venues in Atlanta makes it impossible to believe that anyone could voluntarily avoid meat.  Whatever the reason, I get the most cheesy commentary when I say I don’t eat meat.  A few days ago I was in the supermarket and Mayor McCheese asked which barbeque sauce I thought was best.  I told him I didn’t eat meat.  He was shocked and asked if I ate chicken, and I told him no.  He then proceeded to ask me, and I quote: DO YOU EAT SCRIMPS AND STUFF LIKE THAT.

First of all, there is no “C” in the word shrimp, and second of all shrimp is both singular and plural so there is no “S” on the end of that word.  I didn’t give him the much needed phonics lesson; I just smiled and shook my head “no” as I walked away.  I managed to contain my laughter as I asked myself:  Lord, why did the man ask me if I ate scrimps?

I thought it couldn’t get any better than that, but low and behold, I ran into someone today that really took the cake.  In Atlanta there are a plethora of soul food restaurants.  Most of them proudly proclaim they sell chitterlings year round, so that gives you an idea of the clientele.  Today, as I waited to order my veggie plate a reject from some 1979 pimp convention sidled up to me.
Pimp WimpSo I hear the ribs here are saying something.
JerzeeChick:    I wouldn’t know.  I don’t eat meat.
Pimp Wimp proceeds to look me up and down.
Pimp Wimp: What you say?  I sho woulda neva guessed that one.

Pimp Wimp then rubs his belly.  I pull out my phone and pretend to have a conversation with my imaginary friend on the other end.  There is a five-minute wait for sweet potato’s, so I place my order and step aside to wait for my food.  I wasn’t paying attention and Pimp Wimp sidles up to me again as I sip my sweet tea.  This time he brings his “A-Game”! *NOT*
Pimp Wimp: I was thinkin’ brown skin.  You should let me take you out for a steak dinner.  I guarantee if you have a steak dinner with me, you’ll love meat.

I spit my sweet tea clear across the room.  I laugh hysterically and simply say “no thank you” as I move away from him expeditiously.  Not five seconds later, a woman walks in and grabs his arm.  She is wearing a patchwork leather jacket circa 1979 and gold rings on every finger.  A definite match made in heaven!  They called my number shortly thereafter, so I grabbed my food and left.  Why did Pimp Wimp have the nerve to wink at me as I passed him?

The entire exchange reminded me of all the cheesy lines I’ve heard in my lifetime…and I wondered WHY ME?!?!?!?!?  I searched for the below video, as he was full of bad pick-up lines.  Hopefully this little blast from the past will make you laugh and inspire you to share some of the worst pick up lines you’ve ever heard or used!
JerzeeChick


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March 5, 2009 Posted by | Laughter, Relationships, Single | 4 Comments

Single In The City

Let me start by saying I am not bitter.  I believe in love, and I think when two people are on the same page relationships can be good.  Last week in my “Don’t Ask” blog I highlighted the virtues of the single life.  I had several cosigners that pretty much felt the same way.  For us, at this point in our lives the single life works well.  We are a sub-culture that I like to call “Single In The City’s”.  We embrace our singledom and we are happy.  We are single, but we are not desperate…which brings me to my next topic… The Desperately Seeking Whatever’s.  The DSW’s just want somebody.  They are not too particular, they are just tired of reading issue after issue of Bride Magazine.  They hate not having a date to bring to family functions and their heads are so full of useless wedding banter that if they don’t get to select a china pattern and reception menu soon their heads might explode *rolling eyes now*.  They look at every man as a potential husband.  You might often hear them mumbling “okay God, is he the one” as they sidle up to some dude at Fox Sports Grill. The problem with the DSW is she doesn’t know the difference between Mr. Right and Mr. Right Now! 

The male DSW’s are just as bad.  They want a Boo/Wife/Baby Mama/Jump Off so bad that most of them come to the club every weekend prepared to seal the deal.  You know the type.  Very over zealous about handing you his business card when you didn’t even ask him his name!  Starts calling you Sweetie three seconds into the conversation and whispers something dumb like I can’t believe I found you. He’s also very touchy feely. *shaking head in utter disgust*. The DSW’s deserve to be together. If this were a perfect world it would work out that way, but alas I live in Atlanta which means some fool with his hot breath and his cheesy pick up lines is always going to be trying to get in my face! 

I am not waiting to exhale.  I never lost my groove, so I don’t need to get it back.  I’m just single in the city.  I try not to mix too much with the DSW’s because those chicks can wear me out.  I prefer to hang out with my fellow Single in the City homies because at least I know we are all on the same page.  We all agree that the dating game in Atlanta is like a bad Lifetime movie.  We can people watch in the club for hours because it is by far more entertaining than anything playing at Regal Cinemas. 

On any given night at any club/bar/lounge/social gathering you’ll find the usual suspects.  There will usually be four types of men in attendance: Cheesy, Corny, Cocky, and Contrived.  Not to be outdone, you’ll also find four types of women: Lame, Corny, Whatever, and Pressed.  You’ve seen them.  You can spot the corny chick from clear across the room. She wears mini-dresses and pant-suits from the 80’s.  Her weave ponytail is okay, but her edges are always a hot mess!  We all also recognize the corny guy quick.  He’s the guy that wears a bow tie and suspenders a little too often.  He may wear a t-shirt and argyle sweater vest to the club.  If you get peek at his socks, more times than not they are argyle as well.   All things being equal, you can work with corny!  A corny guy/girl is not always a lost cause.

Next we have the Contrived man and the Pressed woman.  They would both be a part of that DSW crowd.  A contrived man is the guy in the club wearing wide leg linen pants a la Aaron Hall and a tight t-shirt to show off his pecks *rolling eyes again* .  He’s a little over zealous with his business card too, and if he has a luxury vehicle he’ll be walking around with his key prominently displayed.  Every time you see a contrived man he is going to have on a tight shirt so that you can be impressed by his physique (he is probably trying to get into some sort of bootleg fitness magazine).  Not to be outdone, the Pressed woman is always going to have on too tight ill fitting jeans, or a low cut top, or a short skirt and stiletto’s.  They both try too hard!  They are desperate and they want you to want them.  Please don’t fall for it.  They are totally self absorbed and deserve to be saddled with EACH OTHER only. They can feed into each other’s narcissistic personalities quite nicely, while leaving the rest of us alone. 

The contrived guy has delusions of grandeur.  He will tell you he is staying in one of his rental properties. Translation: He is renting a house from his homeboy.  He will offer to buy you a drink, pay in cash with a hundred dollar bill, then count his change and not leave a tip *rolling eyes so hard I think they got stuck*.….oh yeah did I mention the Contrived guys are cheap too!  More than anything I hate a cheap man.  Once you see hints of his tight wad-ness you need to run in the other direction because it’s only a matter of time before he starts asking you to fill up his gas tank when he picks you up for a date.

The pressed woman also has delusions of grandeur.  She’s the type to wear her sunglasses inside the gym.  She will re-touch her make-up and perfume before she hits the treadmill, and then she’ll start to smell like a French whore five minutes into her run because that perfume is too strong.  I hate the pressed woman with her Diana Ross weave that she tries to pass off as her own, and her fake Hermes bag and scarf that are in heavy rotation (I’m no hater, but If I see you wearing runned over Payless shoes, I have a hard time believing that you can afford to spend 5G’s on a purse….and put that stupid scarf away.  It’s 90 degrees outside)!  Men do not be fooled by the Pressed woman.  She may look good on the outside (if you like that tacky over-processed look), but it’s all smoke and mirrors!

So just to recap, you want to avoid the Pressed and Contrived men and women.  Trust me, they are always way more trouble than they’re worth.  Us “Single In The City’s” know how to navigate through the masses of foolishness, but I wanted to put those of you with an untrained eye up on the game. When you are out this weekend, scope them out from a distance.  You’ll see the Contrived guys posted up at the bar trying to hold their stomachs in. He might hit you with a weak pick-up line like “Your husband let you come out by yourself.*gag gag vomit faint*.  You’ll see the Pressed women trying sidle up to any man that looks like he might be buying drinks. She’ll be very touch feely too, and probably giggling like a six year old because someone told her it made her look cute. *slitting wrists with a letter opener now*. I will pick up next week with more of my Single in the City misadventures. And to all you Contrived and Pressed DSW’s that might be reading this blog….watch your backs because I just dropped a major dime! J 

JerzeeChick       

 

  

September 13, 2007 Posted by | Girlfriends, Relationships, Single, Society | 2 Comments

DON’T ASK!

If one more person asks me why I’m single I think I’m going to scream!  For some reason this has been the topic of conversation too many times over the past week.  I am not one of those women fasting and praying that God send me a husband.  I don’t carry around pictures of wedding dresses in my organizer.  I have no desire to know the going rate for wedding receptions at this point in my life. I don’t hit the club every weekend trying to find a new Boo.  As a matter of fact I go to Atlantic Station to laugh at the desperate women in their too tight man catching outfits, and the cheesy men with their horrible pick up lines.  Anyone that knows me knows this.  

Why are you single? Why don’t you have a boyfriend/husband?  A better question is: Why are you all in my business??? 

During the regular “catching up” conversation with friends, the “are you dating” question is bound to come up.  That, I get.  It’s that sad disappointed look you get from strangers when they try to get up in your business. It’s the way they sigh right before they say: I can’t believe you’re still single.  I am so over them with their nosey disapproving glances *rolling eyes now*. 

And don’t get me started on the older relatives that you see about once a year.  Baby ain’t you found yourself no husband yet?  Hmh, maybe if you didn’t work so much you might be able to keep a man. You know Miss So-and-So has a handsome grandson.  He plays the tambourine in the choir.   *rolling eyes as I stab myself with a rusty fork* .  I’ll take a case of TB with a dose of poison before I date any man known for playing the tambourine in the choir….thanks, but no thanks!

Majority of the single men and women with sense are single for the same two reasons: We want to be, and we refuse to settle. I don’t want a man in a red suit and matching gators.  I don’t want a man that spends more time looking at himself in the mirror than I do.  I am all for a guy being in shape, but I once dated a guy who was constantly asking me if he looked fat.  I also don’t want a “work in progress”.  I need him to come fully assembled with a couple of references.  It might sound rude, but I did the longsuffering bit already.  I am so over that now. 

I am sure single men feel the same way.  By this point in your life, you’ve been working for a while, started saving for retirement, you’re not on drugs, you aren’t on parole *fingers crossed*, and you don’t have baby mama drama *fingers still crossed*.  Why should you have to settle for Boomquisha and her four kids.  You do not need them coming over and tearing up your nice leather furniture.  You put a lot of effort into laying out your bachelor pad!  Don’t let her bring those Be-Be’s over there with their Now-A-Later wrappers and French fry crumbs J!

To all those women who are always asking “when are you gonna have a baby”…I need y’all to cease and desist with that foolishness too!  Why are you more concerned about my biological clock than I am?  And please stop sending out pictures of your little bundle of joy with every email.  News Flash:  Lil Mama looks the same to me today as she looked in the pictorial you sent me last week.  Stop inundating my inbox with that mess!  

Those that feel obligated to always inquire about a persons status…STOP THE MADNESS.  He/She is single just because!  Because he wants to be.  Because she didn’t find a good man yet.  Then again, maybe it’s actually a lie.  Maybe he/she has a rack of boo’s at the house but doesn’t want you all up in their business.  Maybe you are being too intrusive with your questions.  When he/she feels sufficiently boo’d up, and wants to tell you he/she will *sucking teeth and rolling eyes*.

To all the single men and women…there is nothing wrong with us.  Let’s keep it real; majority of the people trying to push us down the aisle are doing so because misery loves company.  I don’t know why our being single is such a big deal to everyone else.  Is their a deadline that no one told us about?  The way they say still single as if the statute of limitations is about to expire, and I’m going to get deported or something!  If there is some type of Boo Bonus out there that I’m not aware of please let me know.  If the government is giving out tax breaks I’ll be sure to get boo’d up post haste!  Otherwise please don’t ask me again!

JerzeeChick

 

September 6, 2007 Posted by | Life, Relationships, Single, Society | 6 Comments

People Watching 101

This past weekend I had a fabulous time at a friends birthday party (Happy Birthday Hilton)!  His party was the only event at this particular venue, so there wasn’t the normal over crowding that you find in Atlanta on a Saturday night.  There was plenty of food, and the DJ was excellent.  For a moment I felt like I was back at a club in NYC or Jersey….but I digress.  We pretty much danced the night away, but I also had the unique opportunity to do a lot of “people watching” at this party.  Between the time I spent on the dance floor, at the bar, at my table and at the valet, I noticed several important things that we should be mindful of when are at the club.

Don’t Ask Dumb Questions:  FYI there is no good reason to wear dark sunglasses in a nightclub.  Ladies if you see a man with shades on in the club, please do not ask him why he’s wearing those dark sunglasses.  You already know the answer…HE’S BEING EXTRA!  You’re asking him will only make you look desperate.  Don’t further feed his delusions of celebrity by acting like a groupie.

Grammar, Phonics, and Pronunciation:  Was “what cho name is” ever a suitable pick up line?  I was standing at the valet and a guy came up to me and told me I was “bootaful”.  Please note he said “bootaful”, not “beautiful”.  While I get where he was going with the statement, I am generally going to pass on any guy that obviously failed phonics.

Look the Part:  On my way home I stopped at a light and a shiny new model Lexus Sedan pulled up next to me.  The windows were tinted, so I couldn’t see inside the car.  My first instinct was to check the security of my door locks and then to make sure I wasn’t “boxed in” in case I had to flee a potential car jacker.  That fool lowered his window and he was wearing one of those paper hair net things. He tried to get my attention, but I sped off as soon as the light turned green.  Unless you are serving up mashed potatoes in the cafeteria line, a hair net on a man is NEVER appropriate! 

Body Language:  Why do men think they need to let a woman know she’s not smiling?  FYI guys, unless we recently had a stroke, we know when we’re smiling.  So if you see a woman in the club, at the gas station, or at the express line in Publix do not feel compelled to interrupt her thoughts by telling her to smile.  It should also be noted that a woman standing with her arms folded and not giving eye contact is not the universal signal for “come hither cornball”.  If you must to engage her in conversation please do not start with “why do you look so mean”.  This is like the mother of all oxymoron’s!  You think she looks mean, yet you approach her anyway….how desperate are you?   If she is in fact mean, and packing a taser it would serve you right.  We don’t have to be walking around with a painted on grin.  Some of us prefer to smile on the inside.  If a woman is giving you that “I don’t want to be bothered” vibe, take the hint!

Dancing Shoes:  Under no circumstances is it ever acceptable to put your bare feet on that nasty club floor! Ladies, I know we do a lot for the sake of beauty.  At times we may have to wear those shoes that are a bit too narrow, because we know they are the only ones to make our outfit POP!  Having said that, when wearing the too small shoes to the club, unless you plan on surgically removing your pinky toe in the restroom, you just can’t dance to every song.  Find yourself a seat, and stay in it until YOUR SONG comes on.  Dance for a minute, and then sit your tail back down. You in your seat getting your chair dance on is a much better look than limping to your car looking like Aunt Esther at the end of the night because your feet are killing you.

Recognizing Limitations:  Every hairstyle has its limits.  Before you hit the dance floor, be mindful of yours.  If you know you need a touch up, you can’t dance song after song after song.  The longer you dance the more you’ll sweat and we know the roots are always the first too go. Lest you want to leave the club looking like the Lady of Rage (rock rough and stuff with your afro puffs), I suggest you not dance too hard and frequently check your edges for signs of swelling and frizz.    

Guy is NOT the Future:  Unless your name is Aaron Hall or Charles Oakley, please cease and desist with the wide leg super long crooked cuff pants!  For some reason thick thighed guys seem to think these pants camouflage something.  NOPE!  The pants hide nothing, and probably do more harm than good, so please stop wearing them.   And if you are pairing them with a too tight “dress” wife beater, discontinue that nonsense as well. (Sidebar:  the “dress wife beater” is not the Fruit of the Loom/Hanes one that you find in the men’s underwear section.  The dress wife beater is purchased as a shirt from “Structure” or some other Metro-Sexual clothing store.  The neck band is usually very thick and it comes in assorted colors).  For those that don’t know the “dress” wife beater is probably the most lame thing a man can wear.  It screams “Look at me, I go to the gym.”  When women see that shirt we scream “YUCK, what kind of loser wears a wife beater to the club”.  The only person that should have on a wife beater in the club is DMX.  Men I beg of you…..no more wife beaters in the club!  Please do not wear them as part of an “outfit” when you go on a date.  Believe me when I tell you the dress wife beater is never a good look.

In closing I would just like to say we all (women and men) notice things in our social comings and goings.  I guess you would say this list represents the things that annoy me, but I’m sure someone out there is willing to cosign…

JerzeeChick

August 23, 2007 Posted by | Fun, Girlfriends, Laughter, Life, Single | 5 Comments