A Return to Normalcy*

So, every year, I go up to the mountains on this woman’s prayer retreat. And you can write your prayer requests down and the might women of God pray over them. So I write down a lot of things, and being the single Black woman that I am, I be like, “God if it’s your will, I pray for a husband.”

And then since people be like you gotta be specific with God, don’t just write down a husband, then you don’t what you’ll get. So, I be getting specific. I don’t go into physical description or have mandates, like he must be taller than me. And that kinda stuff. Now when I first started going, my list was lonnnnnnnng. Characteristics like God fearing, patient, trusthworthy, hard worker, and so on. Real specific like. And then as I kept dating and met guys who seemed great until it was like boom pow surprise – I made it short and sweet last year – something like God if it’s your will, and you send me a husband, let him: Love You, love himself, love me and any kids we have. Amen.

But um, I see now I’ma have to make an addition to this year’s request and ask God for something that seems so simple, but is actually oh so elusive - ask for someone normal. Plain and simply normal. Other definitions according to www.thesaurus.com: Ordinary. Regular. Typical. Sane. Rational. Reasonable. Right-minded. Sound. Well-adjusted. Normal.

Cause clearly right now crazy keeps asking me out and taking me to dinner. And it’s not the same crazy. Oh no, it’s different kinds of crazy. And it’s not on the surface crazy. It’s the just when I think, “hey we are having good convo. This guy seems aiight. I might could…” kinda crazy that jumps off the plate in mid-conversation.

Is it too much to ask for someone to not invite me out somewhere and then not abandon me and not pick up his phone when I arrive at the location? For me to not be on my second outing with a guy and have him ask me, “would you ever go to a sex club?” Head cocked to the side, like “errrr… weren’t we just talking about how crazy this weather has been? Segue much?” And then have him tell me all about his prior sex club experiences. Yes, that’s plural on purpose. For a guy who was fake digging me, I say fake cause he only called me on occasion, to not say to me, “every time we speak, you’re always so animated. I like that and I hope you’re animated like that all the time. If you know what I mean.” Duuuuude. Really? Click.

Sigh. Just normal. He ain’t gotta be no gangsta. He ain’t gotta be no balla. © Teedra Moses He doesn’t have to have climbed Mount Kilimanjaro of the corporate ladder. Or have acquired this and that. Or have this thing called life all figured out. Or be complacent and have no motivation to have a better job, or a better community, or a better world. Can he just have some damn sense? And some manners? And like thesaurus said and the old folk say, be in his right mind? And be normal?

I mean I know we all have our own quirks and idiosyncrasies. And I’m not saying I’m perfect. Or I’m the ish. But I would like to think that I live a normal life. I go to work, go to church, out into the world on occasion, see plays and shows, go to work some more, write, travel on occasion. Not boring or unfulfilling per se. But it’s pretty basic. Do I have hopes and dreams and desires? Sure. But I’m not going to watch people have sex with donkeys and then inviting unsuspecting people along. I treat people with respect. I am conscious of things like personal space and life boundaries until you’re at a mutual comfortable space with that person. I try very hard to be a woman of my word.

Mint Julep and I have joked about this lots – but seriously like the next dude who has consistent follow through, ain’t talking that jibber jabber, and is living a life that I deem normal – cause everyone’s normal is different. Maaaaaannnn! It’s gonna be on and poppin. Like for real. With age, comes wisdom, the wisdom to recognize that normal, safe, and “boring” is where it’s at when one is interested having a companion and a family.

And so I hope the Lord reads this here blog cause I can’t take much more of this. It’s enough to make you wanna bury your head in the sand and be like I don’t want no mo’. I’ll just live off the memories. Thanks for the good times. But that's probably not the best approach. Lol. So I will take my head out the sand and continue to get my socializing on, but to quote ol' school, just a lil' cocky, not totally off his rocker, Kanyeze, "Man, man, man, if another crazy nig approach me again, I will be assaulting him..."

That’s my time y’all! Happy Rum Punch Friday!

* Word up Warren G. Harding