Most of you probably think this post is going to be about something wildly inappropriate. Too bad it’s not, you perverts.
This is about eating actual food in front of a woman, and how a man should go about doing such a thing. This is not a gentleman’s guide to eating a meal in front of a woman, this is my guide. Don’t get me wrong, I too am a gentleman, but when it comes to food, I am a savage.
So on this brand new edition of the Poppin’ Questions Podcast, I’m doing something a little bit different.
Since some of you can’t listen to the podcast whether it be through Podomatic or iTunes, Jermaine and I decided to make this accessible via YouTube. At the same time we recorded my responses to this week’s five questions, we also video recorded my responses. The same thing you hear in the audio is the same thing we recorded for YouTube.
A couple of programming notes to consider before tuning in to watch on YouTube:
I was reluctant to do this because I’m not comfortable with watching myself on video. Still, Jermaine and I thought this is a necessary evil.
The videos really aren’t meant to be watched. Nothing extraordinary is happening. I’m just answering these questions into the camera. I’m not dancing, I’m not cooking, I’m not even standing up, so don’t watch these with this anticipation something amazing is going to happen. The only amazing thing in these videos is what I’m saying.
I’m always going to wear a hat in these videos. I like hats, so if any of you hat designers want to send me a hat to wear on an upcoming podcast, hit me at firstname.lastname@example.org and I’ll send you the address where you can mail it. Dead serious about this.
I appreciate women co-signing my words of wisdom, but if any woman thinks for one second I don’t have some thoughts on something simple she can do to turn us men on, her species is even crazier than I thought.
Unlike the list I made for men, I have no list for the ladies. The fact is, women don’t need to do much to turn us on. Most men are such visual creatures, we get stimulated at the mere site of a shoulder, so I don’t need to write five things women need to do turn men on. I don’t even need to write three things or two things.
All ladies need to do is one thing, one simple thing, to turn men on:
Assuming you care about such a thing I’m going to explain how you can be friends with the person you’re sleeping with.
First: start off as non-friends. It’s just easier that way. Sleep with an old friend, and things can be compromised, also, if you two are already friends, why are you reading this anyway?
You have to establish you’re going to sleep with each other first. Super important, people! There can’t be any will-we-won’t-we tension built-up between the parties. The only tension should be when-will-we-how-good-will-it-be type tension.
Guys, I don’t know if you know this but the bar to impress women has been lowered. The bar is so low we don’t even need to walk underneath it anymore. We can hop right over it. I don’t know exactly when this happened nor how it happened, though I do know I can point the blame to my no-good brethren. You guys have not been about a damn thing for so long, you got guys like myself out here looking like Jordan, and I can’t even dunk!
The bad news is, it’s built up a lot of cynism from women. The bar is lowered because frankly, women are tired of holding it up so high and seeing all us guys with our pathetic hops, fall short. So now these women are holding this bar right at their waste with nothing but attitude.
The good news is, there’s hope for us yet. I truly believe because of “Basketball Wives” and “Real Housewives” women who married into their fabulous lifestyle are less desirable than ever. Don’t get me wrong, the modern woman still loves nice things, but they have a more “Sex and The City” I-can-get-it-myself type attitude. Women don’t need men to make them fancy anymore. They don’t even want us to do that sort of thing.
You know what they want?
The bare freakin’ minimum.
Allow this list of five simple things to be your guide, fellas. Trust me when I say, if you do any one of these things or even all five (which is completely doable) the women will be lining up at your doorstep asking YOU out.
I showed up at his door drunk, in heels, a trench coat, and underneath, a brand new piece of lingerie I bought. And can you believe this fool wanted to just talk? — true story from a female friend.
Dude, she had on some lingerie, but I told her she didn’t need all that, just get naked. — true story from another friend
I bought a new lingerie set, and you had the nerve to tell me you were too tired. — true story that happened to me in college
Fellas, enough is enough. The women are out there talking bad about us, putting less effort than ever in their nightwear and it’s our fault. We have no one else to blame but ourselves, because we have found some way to disrespect the lingerie.
No one ever tells you that about love. Folk say, “Protect yourself, protect your heart, be careful, don’t get hurt.” And that’s fine, necessary even, but someone needs to teach the kids how to deal with the pain they will one day cause.
This isn’t about men or women. This is about heartbreakers, and the people who are courageous enough to fill a role they never intended to play. No one signs up to get their heart broken, but no one understands, the sign-up sheet to break someone’s heart is nameless too. And it’s difficult for the victim to get that you too never saw it coming, and even when you did, you did your best to look the other way and keep pushing forward.
You said, “I love you” and you meant it, to your detriment. Because you still mean it now, but you’re about to follow those words up with some more words that will break their heart and now, your love is forever shady. Nothing is more crushing than someone you love saying you don’t. So you stay, and you say “I love you” again, and again, because “I love you” is easier to say than “I can’t love you anymore.”
Date: March 5, 2012
Time: 11:20 am
Location: Starbucks/145 Street/Harlem, New York
I frequent several Starnucks throughout the week, listening to cliché soul music while procrastinating on my debut novel. Today, I decided on the Starbucks closest to my place.
I’m here right now, minding my business, in the midst of writing a brand new post for you all, when all of a sudden this happens:
There’s a guy sitting at a table nearby, and as he gets up to walk towards the back where the restrooms are, he puts down his business card on my table, information side down. Of course this is peculiar to me, and I don’t know why he would do such a thing because I haven’t been talking to anyone, I haven’t looked in his direction. I’ve been writing. Like I said, minding my business.
I turn the business card over anyway. On the card his cell number is circled, with the following words written above an arrow pointing to the circle: