Yet Another Single Gal

Dear Fine Ass Dude From Trina’s Barbecue the Other Weekend:

Yes, we had a nice flirtation going on for about 15 or 20 minutes. When I walked in, I saw you get that, “Hey, new pussy” look that men who look like you often get when a woman who does not normally run in their social circle cruises into a party that rarely has new people. Your determination to make sure I and every other person in Trina’s backyard knew who you were was not very sexy, but those biceps and bald head made up for the slightly obnoxious behavior you displayed throughout the barbecue.

Mid way through our back and forth flirtation, you mentioned another party you were thinking about going to later on. You asked if I might be there as well. I thought for a second about saying yes although I was pretty tuckered out from Trina’s barbecue and am at a point in my life where hopping from party to party so as not to go home “too early” does not appeal to me. In case you were wondering why I never got back to you with a definitive yes or no, I want to share a perfectly harmless moment I just happened to catch in the corner of my eye.

One of the women with whom you are sleeping and who thinks she is your girlfriend walked into Trina’s living room from the kitchen. She was munching on a slice of cake when she slipped in next to you on the sofa. You chuckled as you asked, “I thought you were on a diet?” She guffawed and slapped you across the head. Both of you laughed. You laughed heartily as you poked her in the belly and noted, “You’re getting a little soft there, huh?”

Now, I could write a long diatribe about what an assholey thing that was to say to a woman. Particularly a woman who has an amazing body that could take the hit of a little “softness.” But, that would be off topic. Your comment in of itself was not what brought me to the conclusion that I would not be attending the party later on or giving you my phone number.

Fine Ass Dude, I am not the woman whom you seek. I have met men like you once or twice. I have had very candid conversations with them. You, Fine Ass Dude, strike me as a man who prefers that his woman keep it “tight and right.” While you would not “require” her to have a flat stomach that looks good in a two-piece bathing suit and arms that give Michelle Obama a run for her money, you would be severely disappointed if she did not possess these attributes. You would expect your woman to put the maintaining of a shapely, toned physique at the top of her priority list.

Hence, I am not the woman you seek.

Let’s be clear here, this is not a letter bemoaning how difficult it is to keep a body “tight and right.” Nor, is it veiled remorse that I am not toned enough to date you. It is simply an acknowledgment that had I gone out with you and pursued any type of relationship with you, our time together would have been quite brief. Because the things that are important to you are… well…Fine Ass Dude, they are simply non-issues for me.

I am well aware that I sport a slight baby bump although I am not actually carrying a baby in my bump. I am not blind to the flapping of my arms as I wave to a friend from across the street. The thing is neither of these things bother me enough to obsess over or even think about on a regular basis. If we were to date, I get the impression that at some point you would wonder why I am doing nothing more at the gym than taking a spin class or playing around on the treadmill. You would wonder why I am not aspiring to wear that two piece to the beach when we go away for the weekend. And that’s the problem Fine Ass Dude…only YOU would be concerning yourself with such worries. See, I have already figured out how my relationship with free weights works: I train with them once or twice a summer before I get bored and annoyed that they add an extra 20 minutes to my workout and never pick them up again until the following summer. I don’t fret about looking good in a two-piece bathing suit because Macy’s has a diverse selection of really cute one piece suits in which I look quite appetizing. Perhaps if Macy’s stopped carrying attractive one pieces, I would find motivation to get into that two piece.

Okay, that was an out and out lie, Fine Ass Dude. I would probably just go to Filene’s Basement.

Please do not think that this letter is a judgment. (only God can judge you, Bruh. Judgment is above my pay grade.) While this entire paragraph can be loaded with righteous indignation and a call for women to love their bodies for what they are, the thing is…it really is not that deep when I think about it. You want what you want. And there are more than a few women in this great city who can give you exactly what you want. Therefore, you should date one of them; not me.

I am a woman who exerts a lot of energy worrying about a lot of stuff.  Much of the stuff I fret over I can not control, which causes me to fret even more, actually.  I have parents who continue to age even though I repeatedly ask them to stop doing that foolishness.  I have a lump on my head that may or may not be a tumor.  I itch in the middle of the night.  I need to remodel my bathroom on a teacher’s salary.  My little brother is wasting away his youth and refuses to use his best years to actually accomplish something.  In the grand scheme of things, I really can not afford to waste perfectly good anxiety on the pursuit of a body that is “tight and right.”

So, in short…it is best that we remain really distant acquaintances who sometimes run into each other at random social events.  Again, I want for you the exact same thing I want for me.  TO GET WHAT YOU  WANT.  A woman who is not me.

I wish you well in all your future endeavors.

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