You would think someone who created a site by the name of “Single Black Male” would love being single.
One of my best friends recently re-entered the world of singledom. After a long 5 year hiatus, now he has stories of bad dates, crazy chics, and random beats. I … now in the happy relationship … listen to his stories. Initially, it brought back found memories.
Buying bottles and picking girls off the dance floor to sit with us … yeah.
The end of the night surprise when a date went well and ended in a sweaty bed and a butt naked companion … good times.
Black Bike Week … nuff said.
Watching me reminisce, my friend was quick to check me.
“These broads are illogical. Man I hate dating. All the uncertainty, wasted money and time. And damn these inconsistent beats. Motherf* the game”
Actually yeah … F* the game.
As soon as all the fun moments subsided, I remembered of all the nights of blue balls after what a good date
because f*ing Steve Harvey told you to wait. I remember the “where is this going talk” that seemed to crop up out of nowhere like a crackhead in an alley. I flashbacked to all the boring, overly demanding, “respect my degrees”, and substance lacking women I had to shift through. Sheeet … I even remembered not having fun at a bike week. Lets be real …
And this led me to this list … the top 6 reasons I’m glad I’m out the game.
I can say “I want some head”
Asking for a date … mastered that in high school. Asking for some p*ssy … college taught me that. But I could obtain nirvana and all the wisdom in the world without finding a foolproof way to ask a woman to taste my manliness and digest my machismo. Sure some will be down … but after literally getting a side eye so serious that I went limp … I gave up on taking chances with that one.
I know exactly what is happening after a date
I have always been a master of dates. For someone I was serious about, at least one of our first 3 dates would be a personalized experience that probably would never be recreated. Consider it my signature on her memory … a way to always remember SBM no matter what pale comparison of a man came after. Sadly, even something that special couldn’t ensure a coitus filled ending. Now … whether we are going on a balloon ride through the French countryside or crushing some Four Loko on the couch … I know what’s going down.
Finally some support
I didn’t realize how hard it was to do everything myself until I had someone actually help me with stuff. I’ve moved twice in the past two years (DC -> ATL -> Boston) and that sh*t was immensely easier with the help. Even the day to day is just … easier.
There is still illogical craziness … but at least it’s not a surprise
I don’t care what anyone says … every woman is crazy. But, there are immense differences in the levels of craziness between women. So after you find a level that you are comfortable with, you just have to learn that particular brand of craziness so there aren’t any surprises. Settling down will do that.
Women People are crazy
Every day brings me closer to the end of my mortality. I don’t need these chics out here bringing me any closer. Rolling by the house unannounced. Bustin windows. Breaking and entry. Creating a fake persona to talk with my friends. Yeah … I’m getting old and don’t need that anymore.
No More Inconsistent Beats.
Nuff said. What’s a dry spell?
Basically … da game been good to me. I built up a small library of stories to tell my sons. I’ve done some stuff that I should regret, but don’t. And I had fun. But after all that … f* the game.
For those in relationships, do you look back to your singleness and see Rosa Costa tempting you or Precious licking her lips? Does the call you back or remind you a “dark period”? For the SBMs and SBFs out there, do I have it wrong? Loving the game till the day you die?
– SBM aka “Oh yeah … I forgot balls can turn blue” aka Hall of Fame Inductee 2010