Leaving An Impression

I don’t know about ya’ll, but when I get to heaven I have a few questions that Imma need to ask. Aside from the meaning of life, why is the sky blue and who shot JFK…I just really need to know why God made men and women so undeniably different! I know a billion books have been written on this subject, but I must know how the sexes are supposed to communicate with each other when we view and process this world so differently. If the question is what is a healthy side dish-I’m saying a tossed spinach salad with the dressing on the side and he’s saying doubled fried French fries. His qualifier-that vegetables are healthy and a potato is a vegetable. Is he wrong? No. But is he right? Still no. I wondered about this communication disconnect before, but since hanging out with a male on a regular basis I feel like there must be some inside joke that no one on this side of life has been privy to the punch line. Lord, you got to let me in on the joke, because I’m not understanding!

Picture this: Fight Party 2010. The couple hosting the party invited an assortment of friends. Folks from church, work and around the way all convening with the ghetto and the fabulous! The great equalizer food, drinks and half naked men hitting each other. For any single lady this was one of those golden opportunities to meet and greet a summer boo. So these chicks come in with their low cut shirts, thigh high dresses. They have on 3” heels and oodles of makeup. Just looking too fly…in someone’s townhouse!

So after the party I’m talking to my friend about the sights and sounds of the party. I’m giving him all sorts of back story about this woman named Nigeria who I feel doesn’t really like me for whatever reason and I finally had the chance to point her out to him. So I go Nigeria is the girl who had on the blue dress.

Him: Who’s Nigeria?
Me: The girl who had on the blue dress.
Him: I don’t know who you are talking about. When did she get there?
Me: Really? Cause she was there the whole time. You know that one who was dancing by herself to the music?
Him: *puzzled face*
Me: Nigeria! Blue dress!
Him: Oh the one with the big hips?
Me: Um, yes! Nigeria.
Him: Oh. I thought you were talking about the retarded looking girl.
Me: *internal dialog with self: was the retarded looking girl wearing a blue dress?! Heck no!*

I mean at that point I could have stabbed him with a plastic spoon! I understand that men are some times color blind…but a blue dress is a blue dress. And up until this conversation I thought men being visual included all things visual, but maybe it’s just the body parts that leave a mark on the minds of men folk. And in his defense Nigeria’s hips are usually one the first things people notice because they are enormous! But because folks are raised right and learn to speak through filters, I know not to comment on such things.

At any rate my friend went on to explain that men don’t really notice clothing. They notice how you carry yourself, if you are clean, etc and what you are working with. But who or what you got on-they careth not. So the light bulb came on and I was like basically women are just dressing for each other? And he was like, exactly. And maybe this is true across the board for men folk except for the Kanye’s and Fonzworth Bentleys of the world… Or maybe this is just for my friend. But I know now that if I want to point a chick out to him I better describe her face, butt or breast…otherwise he just didn’t notice, or at least has no idea what I am talking about. Ba-dump-ching.


See You In Seven