NOTE: I am usually a bag of hilarity and giggles. I will be again next post, I promise.
First let me get this off my chest. So my guilty pleasure is gossip blogs. I love being in people’s business who don’t know who care about me in anyway. Shrug.
But I have a gripe. I have noticed a wave of breakups in he rapper/athlete community, and the men involved in these breakups seem to have a recurring theme: You can’t turn a ho into a housewife. This really burns me. Here’s why:
- You met her at the strip club. Where she was working. Taking her clothes off for a living. This is woman who uses her body in exchange for money—in some cases, lots of money. I’m no saying this to disparage the stripping profession; it’s a living. Some of the nicest girls I ever met in my twenties were exotic dancers. My point is, if she was using her body to make money when you met; why did you all of a sudden expect her to cease and desist? She’s still stripping—you just happen to be her exclusive audience. Oh, wait, you found out she’s entertaining other men? Men with more money than you? Surprise! Being a kept stripper is like any other job, if you find a more lucrative position doing the same thing, you’re going to move on from the company you’re with. Why did you think it would change, rappers?
- It would be different had you met your significant other and she was doing ANYTHING ELSE. When you meet someone while they are naked and booty-clapping while doing the splits on top of a pile of greenbacks, are you thinking “Hmm, I bet she makes a mean meatloaf and can set a beautiful table”? No. No you are not. You are thinking exactly what you are supposed to be thinking about at the time, so at what point do the dynamics change? After you’ve fulfilled all your little fantasies? “Yeah, boo, I love when we use those furry pink handcuffs. Are you going to make eggs and pick up the dry-cleaning? Oh, and I was thinking roast chicken and fingerling potatoes for dinner.” She wasn’t doing any of that when you met. Or even after you met when you were trying to impress her and taking her out every night.
- This is what happens when you choose a person based solely on the packaging. Not that I’m suggesting you date Grungetta. I am suggesting that you look for substance. You want a woman that is smart, sexy, and confident, right? There are places that have women like that in spades—they’re called colleges and universities. New York, D.C., Atlanta, etc are chock full of them. But you went to the strip club. Not that those women aren’t smart, they’re obviously sexy and definitely confident. But there is admittedly a difference between someone who wears pasties at work and someone who is at Columbia Law School, getting their MFA in creative writing, or becoming a certified medical assistant. (And if you dare cite Player’s club to me where she strips to pay for school, I will have you escorted out by security.)
- Stop acting like she’s supposed to be eternally grateful to you for “taking her out the strip club”. Is she supposed to worship you now? That’s demeaning, and it makes it painfully clear what you think of her. Why should she become all things to you when you clearly don’t respect her and you act like your relationship is a debt she owes you? And when she, as a human being, decides that’s not good enough, that she wants to be your equal or she wants out, you want to be bitter. Stop it, professional athletes.
- To piggyback off #3—stripping is a selfish occupation. No one becomes a stripper because they want to make a difference in the world (“this to help eradicate impotence!”). They need the money. Period. Everything else—the costumes, the body parts, the pretense that you’re funny or charming–is just an illusion designed to get said coinage. So there are pretty good odds that she’s a selfish person. Get it together, rappers.
Okay, that’s enough for today. I just wanted to say that. Now back to your regularly scheduled programming.