Sunday, January 11, 2009

Lessons From a Karaoke Catastrophe

 Every woman hits a point where “dating for sport” turns into “dating for discernment.” Last night, I hit mine. Consider this a public record — a Manifesto of Offenses — because silence keeps us trapped, but sharing sharpens the sisterhood.

Offense 1: Height Hustling.

If you say you’re 5’11, you best stand 5’11. Do not sell me a fantasy when the tape measure calls foul. I wore heels, stood taller, and watched his claim collapse in real time. False advertisement is not cute.

Offense 2: Wrestling with Ignorance.
I am not a sports girl, but I do love Wrestling/// I want to talk competition, energy, passion. He looked dazed, confused, and then had the audacity to tell me It's fake!. That’s too ignorant...

Offense 3: Mary J. Blige Blasphemy.
You cannot bash Mary J. to a Black woman. That’s cultural malpractice. He tried it, saying her music “fell off.” I reminded him she just sold 600K in a week — in the middle of an album leak era. He still pushed the “411 was better” argument without receipts. Case dismissed: never box Mary in. Growth is not decline.

Offense 4: Defending Criminals
He bragged about some Jamaican singer locked up for statutory rape whose music “was better in prison.” If your cultural reference point is defending jailed predators while I sip my drink… offense sustained.

Offense 5: Conversation Collapse.
Pauses longer than Lent. Nothing indulgent, nothing intriguing. He resorted to touchy-feely as filler, probing me with too many tattoo questions. Raunchy comments on a first date? Automatic dismissal.

Offense 6: Strapped & Stupid.
He was packing heat. On a date. At karaoke. With no disclosure until I almost broke my finger poking him. Sir, this is not “Bonnie & Clyde.” This is Olive Garden and Olivia Newton John! 

Offense 7: The Checkmate.
Bill: $61.69, gratuity included. He picked it up, put it down, then slid the whole thing my way with: “You got this one?” I paid it, yes. But I also mentally filed him in the “Never Again” cabinet.

Lesson Learned:
Alcohol goggles distort. Standards don’t. From this day forward, discernment over desperation. Quality over convenience. If he doesn’t meet the Manifesto, he doesn’t meet me.

 If it doesn’t feed my soul, spark my mind, or respect my worth, then it isn’t worth the price of admission.

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