Every heterosexual girl should have at least one entirely metrosexual male friend. I am fortunate to have one, who I refer to as the Conductor. His train, unfortunately for me, has chugged all the way to the Holy Land. But being that it is the 21st Century and all, we are still able to communicate on the regular.
In our latest exchange, I informed him I would be interviewing a Southern rapper for a piece I would be writing on hip hop and its role in modern day politics. And then I paused, letting him soak in the magnitude of that juicy tidbit. After that brief introduction, I changed the subject to something I really truly cared about– my perpetual bout of singledom.
His response– paraphrased– was as follows: Yaffa, do you want to be a relationship, or, is there someone specific you want to be a relationship with? It struck him that I had a meta-preference for a relationship, but no particular individual with whom to share said relationship. I was kind of like the girl at the edge of the bridge, watching her friends make the huge leap into the river below, and wondering if her friends jump off a bridge, should she join? My gut, it’s better to appear like a suicide case than to actually commit suicide. (Not that I’m comparing relationships to death, or anything).
I realized then that the Conductor had a point. Lord knows I’d been to my share of Doxy weddings over the last four years, and not once had I left thinking, “G-d, I wish I were the bride.” In fact, I tended to focus on the rather poor musical selections made for the bride and groom dance. Iyaz’s “Replay,” really? Elton John’s “Circle of Life,” seriously?
But I also knew that while I wasn’t looking for a wedding, I was searching for someone to show the slightest bit of affection towards me. However, the Conductor had an answer for that as well– a bagel analogy.