Sardonic Sistah Says

Observations… Ruminations… Ponderances… & Rants from Another Perspective

No More Drama

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For the last few weeks my job has been leaving me physically and mentally drained, so much so that by the time I get home I just want to veg out. These last few weeks have been nothing but drama, so much I’ve been humming anger songs (like this and this) to help calm my nerves. Right now they are putting up through some dumb stuff and all I can say is, if what we were going through was all planned I’d hate to see what would happen if we were winging’ it.

But anyway…

So I decide to go to the movies with my good friend Grace, who I have been cool with since high school days, although we aren’t as tight as we used to be. Sometimes I forget why we aren’t as tight as we were before and then when we get together I remember she always has some type of drama going on. She’s an intelligent, attractive, and (unfortunately) headstrong black woman but with her something is almost always going off. (Grace is the friend from this blog) In a way, she’s like a female Mouse Alexander from the movie Devil in a Blue Dress. She always has your back, although unfortunately hanging with her gets you in some sticky situations that would make her have to have your back. And she hasn’t killed anyone –which I know of.

So I ask her to go with me to the latest Tyler Perry movie “Why Did I Get Married”. If you seen one Perry movie then you know his lynchpin plot –black woman hooks up with horrible black man she just can’t shake until she finally realizes her worth and that the honey who is chasing her with the bad bod is actually the one God sent for her. The phone call soon becomes consumed with the antics of an ex-boyfriend from high school that she hasn’t taken up seeing, but has allowed to see her. And she has given him the privilege to take her to dinner. And maybe take on a vacation to Atlantic City. All on the up and up, of course. She’s not interested she just doesn’t see why she should pass up something for free if someone is offering it to her.

The problem is, his wife called.

“He’s married?!” I was shocked. I still remember him as a little boy with a skinny body and candy apple head and sometimes a teen with a tall skinny body, gangly arms and candy apple head although I know now he is this chunky dude with a couple of kids from previous relationships before his marriage. He has broken her heart a couple of times before, which I point out to her later in the relationship but she doesn’t seem to remember it.

“Yeah, but he’s separated,” as if that explains anything. I roll my eyes as she explains how the wife called her house the first time but didn’t identify herself; she just wanted to know who lived there and then the wife called two weeks later, after watching an accumulation of text messages and phone call logs on her husband’s phone. The wife accused my friend of sleeping with her husband which Grace indignantly denies and then quickly brushes the wife off the phone explaining to her that it’s a conversation she needs to be having with her husband and not involving her in.

“And I was nice to her,” Grace said. “I’m always nice when they call. But she said that he told her to call me and that he was standing there next to her and five minutes after we hung up he called me up apologizing. I don’t like getting these phone calls, man, and I told him that. I’m getting to old for this… Why would he tell her its okay to call me?”

“It sounds like he’s a Drama Queen,” I offered. “There are men who like to get some drama started, too. Actually, they are sometimes the cause of it.”

So we spend 20 minutes or so dissecting what happened, why it happened, and what it could possibly mean. She sees herself as an innocent victim in the unfolding melodrama of her ex and his wife. She didn’t choose to be in the situation, she hasn’t chosen to be in any relationship (from her standpoint); he chose her and in his choosing he’s bringing unwarranted problems into her life.

Personally, I think she needs to let it go. I don’t see why she wants to talk to him; she’s definitely attractive enough to find a man who can be with her on her own terms (as in not having a harem). And it bothers me that she has a routine ready in case the “wife” or “long-term girlfriend” should happen to call her up wondering what’s going on with her and the wayward man. I couldn’t make her see that she didn’t need to be in that situation. Every point I came up with she had a counterpoint or a deflection that it wasn’t her or her problem or her thing anyway.

The movie was okay. It was funny although the storylines predictable and characters one dimensional. I didn’t find it thought provoking although it did lead to an interesting conversation between me and Grace afterwards. I began harping on Perry’s’ consistent underlying them in all his movies (the one mentioned above –woman involved with a bad man but can’t see good man in front of her face) and began wondering if Perry was playing out some unrequited love with some woman who couldn’t see him as a good man and was stuck with a bad dude.

“Maybe that’s not it at all,” Grace said. “Maybe he just wants black women –all women– to realize their worth. To see they don’t have to put up with anything and when they let go the right man will come along. Maybe he saw these relationships play out in his family and he saw the beauty and worth in him that they couldn’t see.”

I bite my tongue. I wanted to say, what about you and your parade of dregs. I wanted to ask her why couldn’t she own up to her problem in the mess going on with her ex and why didn’t she just walk away and realize her own worth and not sell herself cheap for something that might last a month or drag out for years until it chips away at her and makes her less like the spunky chick I admired when I became friends with her and more like the women she says she’s not. The women who need a man, any piece of a man just to say that they have one or have the touch of one even if it is just for a fleeting moment before he heads back home to his long-term.

But I don’t. Instead I tell her we should go see the upcoming Christmas flick in a few weeks and I go to pick up my daughter.

My daughter was over her best friend’s house. Her best friend’s mother, Sheila, is a good friend of mine whom I don’t see enough because we live on opposite sides of the city and our paths don’t cross as often as they used to when the girls were younger. Sheila and her husband of 20+ went the day before to see the latest Tyler Perry play that is sweeping the country, “What’s Done in the Dark“.

“Let me tell you what it’s about,” Sheila says with a big broad smile on her face.”

“Don’t tell me, a black woman is with the wrong man but learns her self worth and then falls in love with the right one?”

She laughs, “That’s just one storyline.” I look at Sheila and realize that she and Grace have a similar look. Their skin is the same copper color, they have the same shoulder length hair, and about the same height. They both have this odd penchant to dress monochromatically in bright colors like orange or lime green. They both have two kids and own a big house in the suburbs. But Sheila is fit and almost always has a smile on her face. She is always looking for the bright side, even when things look their darkest. Grace is often negative and used to be thin but has developed a paunch. The stress in her life over the years has caused her to smoke. Sheila can often disagree but is rarely disagreeable. As I quickly compare and contrast them in my head I feel sad. I wonder if there was ever a chance that Grace could have been like Sheila, 20 years ago it was her aspiration; she dreamed of a house with the kids and a husband. I ponder if it’s a matter of perspective and wonder if their outlook shaped their life or if their life shaped their outlook.

Or maybe Grace just needed to leave those thug guys alone.

I’ll never know. I can only view things from the outside and conjecture what I would do if I was in such a situation. I steel myself for a new work week and go into a place where things are just as crazy as they were the week before. I already know my self worth and have decided to let it all just roll off my back.  Maybe Tyler Perry can make a play about me and he’ll call it The Belligerant Bookwoman’s Blog.  I’ve already had my epiphany and I can play myself onstage.

And Daniel Dae Kim can play J!  Hey, the show needs a star.

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Written by rentec

23 October, 2007 at 6:02 am

Posted in black women, dating, movies

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