Dang, Cuz, I thought inwardly. Is that the best you can do?
I was sitting in my pickup truck @ Wal-Mart, watching people come in and out, and I observed a Black man with a scowl on his face. Nothing unusual there, for some brothers, a scowl is the default expression, kind of a Look #8, Don’t Mess With Me. What caught my attention was the woman walking behind him, too far to be really with him, but close enough to him to let anybody interested enough in them to know that they was together.
Anybody–Interested–Enough–In–Them…well, that would be…..me.
Yes, I am an Biracial Couple Inspector, or BiCI, for short, (pronounced “Bicky”). I have the lofty task of identifying and assessing BiC’s, and filing said information in the BiCDat (“Biracial Couple Database”), an important part of Black Culture.
One of the tenets of BC is the instant identification of those who purport to be a part of us.
Hey, we don’t mind you joining us, but we do have standards. Besides the idea of “keepin’ it real” has always been an important part of our heritage, and we don’t suffer perpetrators and imitators gladly. So all you trailer park Suzies with your straight-hair braids, you may sit down now. You’ve been identified and appropriately filed.
Anyway, the problem was, the heifer looked wider than the car she just stepped out of; I could hear the little Kia Soul heave a sigh of relief.
Dang! How much this heifer weigh?
A fat joke is in order here.
Oh, don’t frown up @ me, I’m a fat man, and if I’m not offended, then neither are you!
This heifer was so fat…
(only got room for one, so it’s got to be funny)
…when she joined church, she had to go to Sea World to get baptized!
Aw, that’s mean! Let me pick another.
This heifer was so fat, her nickname was “Damn!”
Oh, okay, one more…This heifer so fat, she sat down in Wal-Mart and lowered the prices!
Anyway, as they walked towards the door, he turned around with Expression # 64, Hurry Your Azz Up, but she just shook her head; her ankles were under enough strain as it was without adding speed to the mix.
“I’m comin’, I’m comin’, chill out,” she muttered.
I kept my face straight, but I always marvel at how White gals pick up the Hood Rat Accent.
“C’mon, mane, I’m walkin’ fast as I kin,” she said, evicting Expression #16, Eye Roll With Sigh.
“This week, I sweah, yo’ azz goin’ on the track,” he replied.
A brief explanation is in order here, lest you misunderstand. He has absolutely no intention of making her go on the track, changing her diet, or doing anything that will promote weight loss.
None at all.
His purpose in saying that at this point is multifold.
Black wimmen, stop crooking your neck and pay attention! You might learn something!
One, he is establishing/maintaining control over this heifer.
Heifers must be controlled, otherwise you, well, lose control over them.
Reminding White girls about their weight has been proven to be an effective means of control, better than chains, whips, or barbed-wire fences, as well as being obviously cheaper.
(To the Brother, “cheaper” is always better, unless of course he is attempting to show off his “Baller” status, but we won’t go into that here.)
Two, he is demonstrating to the Sisters the reason why he has chosen this particular White heifer, not for her looks, (unless she has some, which is always a good thing), or money (unless she has some, which is always a good thing), or family connections (unless she has some, which is always a good thing)…
See the pattern here?
Anyway, he is demonstrating to you the fact that this White gal will acquiesce to this kind of treatment, thereby demonstrating:
A–I don’t need you, and,
B–If you wanna hook up, holla @ ya boy, Blondie gonna look the other way! Sweet!
Three, he is holding out to this White girl that there is a chance, however small and minute, that there is a way to satisfy and please him, a hope, a light at the end of the tunnel, a place where somehow, someway, she can please this Black man and keep him happy and faithful….
I know, Blondie’s been hitting the pipe too often, poor thing. Crystal meth is not your friend.
What she has yet to realize, but you already know, Black Woman, is that any nigga who is so mentally/emotionally shallow as to need/want/desire a White woman to validate his Black manhood, no matter which of the several repositories for White girls (a.k.a. “trailer parks”) he has collected this particular specimen from, is no nigga you want to be involved with in the first place. Besides, some of them trailer parks got some strains of STD’s that’ll knock penicillin on its azz. You don’t want that schit in your bloodstream, trust me!
I feel you.
Let his momma, or his White heifer (a.k.a. “The Fellatio Fairy”) fool with his trifling azz.
0You got better things to do.
The last thing you need is some half-raised Negro eating all the food in the refrigerator, drinking up all the soda water, and then looking at you, talking about, “When we gonna get some grocery in this mo’ fo’? I’m hongry!”
No, you don’t need that.
Sisters, Matlock wants to encourage you.
Get your certification.
Tack on some alphabets behind your name.
Go to a museum. Learn a new skill.
Take a night course.
Buy a Rosetta Stone CD, and learn a new language.
Date a White man. There’s a whole world out there…..
Yes, I said, “Date a White Man!”
It’s okay, they passed a law!
Revised Statutes # 72947-A says, and I quote:
“African-American women, formerly known as Black women, formerly known as Afro-American women, formerly known as Negro women, formerly known as Colored women, formerly known as Nigra women, formerly known as nigger wimmen, girl, gal, etc, etc, can now have interpersonal relationships that lead to intimacy with Caucasian, Anglo-Saxon, a.k.a. White men, up to and including marriage and/or long-term commitment.”
From what I hear, they’ve been craving you for centuries.
Just make sure you get one that has the right motive in mind. Some of them want to date you because you in style right now. Enjoy it if you must, but don’t let it go to your head.
Triflin’ White boy is worse than a triflin’ nigga….