Urban Thought Collective

If you had been reading my personal blog before I met the Cookie Lady, you would know that I used to have notoriously bad luck with women. The ones I liked did not like me and I always seemed to attract the wrong woman. Little did I realize that 2008 would begin a new chapter in my social life that could possibly lead to me finding the love of my life.

But before I met her, my most recent misadventure revolved around a female friend whom I had known for several years. Matter of fact, we used to work together, which is one of the many reasons why I never pursued a romantic relationship. However, we spent plenty of time outside of work talking about each others dating lives and our frustrations with trying to find a suitable mate. Physically, she was not the type that I would gravitate towards, but far from unattractive. She got too carried away with the weaves for my taste, but I am sure that works for some brothers.

From the stories, she told me, it was not a problem for her to get next to a brother if she was interested. Unfortunately, in the last several weeks it had become clear that she had set her sights on me. You may be asking, “Why would that be a problem, Vincent?” It was a problem because she is hoe!

Hold up! I know that sounds rough. I’m not in the habit of calling women out of their name or referring to them as a garden tool, but that is how she described herself. She was a self-proclaimed hoe. No, she didn’t use it as a term of endearment like some sisters do. She used it to describe her predilection for random d$#@. In our many conversations, she had given me some exquisite detail about her exploits on the hoe trail. She talked about dating married men and guys that she knew had girlfriends.

To her, I was like a confessional priest. Telling me about her actions and how it made her feel was like cleansing her of all her guilt. I was never judgmental about her deeds, just a good listener. Maybe that explains her sudden desire to make our platonic friendship into something more. This was a clear violation of the “Making a Hoe into a Housewife Rule.”

During that time, she was calling and texting me on a daily basis. Trying to come by my spot late nights and asking me to escort her to various functions. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem either, but she was the type who didn’t know how to be close to a man without getting physical. I made the mistake of letting her come over one Saturday evening. We were just going to watch some television and chill. AND THAT IS WHAT WE DID!

After a couple of movies, it was getting late and time for everybody to find their way to their own bed. She asked if I wouldn’t mind if she spent the night because she lived about an hour away and didn’t feel comfortable driving at that time of night in that condition. Being friends, I didn’t really have a problem with that, but where was she going to sleep? I only have one bed and I have a rule about folks sleeping on my couch. Nothing worse than having company sit down and start sniffing trying to figure out where that Fritos smell is coming from. So, that meant that she would have to share a bed with me.

Let’s just say that I woke up on Sunday morning with this chick wrapped around me like a boa constrictor. Nothing actually happened. She just felt the need to cuddle while I was asleep. From that point on, I was giving her the Heisman. To her credit, she has tried to change her life in the last few months and become a respectable young lady. She says that she wants to get married and be a wife. Even though I’ll miss the stories of debauchery, I am happy that she is changing her ways.

Ladies, do you tell any of your male friends about your sexual conquests?

Do you think this knowledge changes the way they look at you?

Can men and women just be platonic friends without someone catching feelings?

Let’s discuss….

Vincent Slaughter is a writer and graduate of Morehouse College. Single and living in Atlanta, Georgia, his thoughts on love and relationships are also featured on www.skoolboisplayground.blogspot.com.