Confessions of a Biker Chick: Finding Love in the Big City XXIV

By on December 19, 2008 @ 12:00 am

Finding Love In The Big City

I am a closeted rebel wanting to come out and reek havoc upon the masculine psyche; sensual red lips, tight leather pants, sky high
heels and a devious smile for the brave soul willing to challenge me to a race.

I have always had this fantasy of riding down an open stretch of Americana with the hum of a Silver and Black Harley Davidson Chopper as the melody pushing me forward. I thank Pulp Fiction for this strange fascination: i mean i like Bruce Willis and all, but it was his bike that gave me the shivers – all that chrome was enough to make a girl go crazy. I mean it helps that the guy riding the bike is fine, but ultimately the chrome comes first.

So I found myself on an impromptu date speeding down Flatbush Avenue at 90 mph, my eyes closed as the wind forced them shut. How I got there was courtesy of my two feet propelling me to catch a little air as decided to get some exercise in Indian Summer.

Most people underestimate walking. Walking is incredibly therapeutic and not to mention scenic, as much of a city girl I am, nature is something I don’t take for granted; small flower pots, patches of spearmint or even the occasional patch of dandelion weeds are enough to inspire the dreams of plants row by row as far as the eyes can see. As I admired the lovely flowers in bloom, my ears opened in confusion after passing three men and eavesdropping on their conversations:

Him: All Black women want are relationships and all White women want
is to fuck.

Why this peaked my fancy, I don’t know, but before I realized that my look of horror was obvious, I heard a collective groan as this outspoken woman moseyed her way into the conversations of men.

Typically I live by this rule: If a group of men are standing together talking, don’t get involved unless otherwise invited, especially in the case of Black men as those bonding moments are few and far between. It gives me a chance to study them, listen to their voices, the timber, watch the swagger that men exude only in the company of
like minded individuals. But at that moment the warrior in me was too curious for answers that nothing was sacred.

Me: Umm… Excuse me, could you do me a favor and repeat what you said.
Him: Oh shit! Here it comes…
Me: (smiling – well half smirking) What? you thought that I would let that thought pass unnoticed?

And I proceeded to walk my way back into the company of men.

Friends of mine ( yes you Urban Thought) would label me as “special” – not necessarily “short bus special” but quirky as all get out special. I mean c’mon he said it loud enough to get my attention, so he should be prepared to get a response back.

Me: okay so what do you mean by that statement?
Him: well, exactly what I said – women seem to fall into two categories
Me: you mean the interesting broads you’ve met
Him: Yo you are wild!
Me: no just honest
Him: So I’m curious which one you are?
Me: so why can’t a woman be both fuggable and relationship worthy?

Standing amongst all of that testosterone must have made my mouth reckless, but it got me question mark looks and more importantly, it got me the digits. . .

Stay tuned…

Categories: Observation | Relationships


dej December 19, 2008

i woulda had something to say too

Lavenderbay December 20, 2008

It’s interesting — almost refreshing — to hear the same old prejudicial remark uttered with the colours switched. The handy little madonna-whore dichotomy, though, that’s timeless and universal.
But enough of that; what happened next???

meleah rebeccah December 22, 2008

Him: All Black women want are relationships and all White women want is to fuck.


Ms. Q December 24, 2008

I was first with Meleah: WHAT?

Then I thunk about it.  One of my single friends is black. Actually, he’s pretty darn dark and he has that Pendergrass voice…yow! Anyway, he’s been sipping a soda in a neighborhood bar and had a hot white woman approach him and she was only interested in one thing.

He was happy to oblige. Anyway, it seems like white women (hmm…maybe it’s women in general now that I think more on it) do look at him as a bit of a sex object – the ole, “Is it true what they say about…black men?”

So maybe that’s what these men on the street were experiencing.

What is “short bus special”? I get the gist based on the context but figure it’s some local expression that I am not fully appreciating!

Based on what I’ve seen here, you are definitely special in a wonderful way.  When you’re special, it does make dating kinda tricky…takes a special guy.

The thing with the special guy…they really appreciate you, they get you, they are totally blown away.  The special guy will love that dandelion growing out of the sidewalk just as much as you.

Urban Thought December 24, 2008

LOL… The ignorance of some folk. :-)

Ms. Q: It may be a local expression. Some people say short yellow bus special. In other words, there are those kids who got on the long bus and then there are those kids who got on the short bus. The short bus was for those whom were handicap of some sort. Its a deprecating term used to refer to someone who may be retarded, slow or special.

Ms. Q January 1, 2009

UT: thanks for the explanation! I forgot about those “short buses” for the special ed or special needs children.

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