What can I say? I get angry. I want to punch things. I want to break things. I want to take out the world with my fists and make the ground quiver in fear of me.
So what if I hit on my wife? It don't mean nothing. I's tell her it's not my fault. It's her fault. She made me angry and she got whumped on. Or I tell her it's the other woman's fault. It's the neighbor's fault, or my other baby's mama's fault, or just the woman driving her car who cut me off on the street.
It's her, and her, and her fault. Yeah, it's always the women. See, they fear me. If they don't give me the props I want, the attention I want, the fear I want, that means they be scared of me. Simple as that.
What? Don't give me that moral, psychobabble crap about I'm inferior to a woman, so I beat them down to be a man. Shi-at! No woman can compare to a man. They need to know their place. They need to know I'll go out and be with any woman I want. This ring on my finger don't mean nothing but fast cash at a pawn shop. I got my wife and I got my girls. I get what I want and they take care of the babies and collect the food stamps. They ain't getting my money. I won't even give them $20 to fill up their gas tanks.
What you nagging about now? Naw, you didn't see nothing. I wasn't sneaking past our place with no other woman. Gerl, you just be trippin. Give me lip and I'll give you a busted one. Where you going? You ain't leaving me. No, I ain't letting go of your arm. I ain't letting you drive away.
Stop bi-atching at me about getting a job. You know I can't. They won't let me get one. I go in, and they take one look at me. Yeah, they give me the look that says I'm "ghetto." And you know it's a woman manager who does that. Ain't no one else who'd give me that much disrespect.
Woman, you collect what you need to collect from the state and change the baby's diapers, and I'll do what a man does to enjoy his life. I put my wife in her proper place. I make some booty-calls with my other women, and I'll punch you out if I need be.
Don't look at me like I'm ghetto.
Ouch. . .
ReplyDeleteJust a simple story regarding how some people think their actions are part of normal society. Also, working on some storytelling skills with people who have this mentality.
ReplyDeleteI've known a few guys like this; not all of 'em speakers of Ebonic. . .
ReplyDeleteStupidity knows no color barriers ;)
ReplyDeleteI've known them, too. Lots of them, unfortunately. And, as you implied in your response to Craig, not all of them were dark-skinned, not by a longshot.
ReplyDeleteYeah, what Lime said. . .
ReplyDeleteGeez (my wife Renee says that too). That's some impressive characterization. Nice job, Michelle.
ReplyDeleteLime: Too true
ReplyDeleteCraig: Ditto
Eric: Thanks!