Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Exhibitions of a Video Vixen

Video...um...vixenPssst, they can see you!!

Lately I have begun to concede that I'm somewhat attractive. I say concede because I believe it's not for me to decide. Just yesterday I was hit on twice in the span of three seconds; meaning one pair of girlfriends had to interrupt another pair of girlfriends. Never seen that happen before. I thought I was merely 'alright' (or 'enough to get by') but again I guess that's not my call to make. Anyway, I say this because these approaches occur in spurts and sure enough as I walked the subway platform ('cause parking downtown is a mutha) text-messaging my homegirl, I noticed two girls sitting on the bench at which I usually wait. Happens. Plus, I was in the middle of a conversation so I was sure the time until the next train would fly by.

"Cellphone..." a boisterous call soared into the air. "Um... ok, " I thought "I guess you have one too, congrats". She was unsatisfied. "Cellphone..." in a definitive 'pay attention to me, I want to talk to you' tone. But as always, I assumed they were (literally) hollering at some other guy; maybe the one across the way. I briefly took my eyes off my ::sigh:: cellphone to realize they were talking to me. And they were not cute and (had I actually looked at them -beyond my split second aversion- I would have noticed they) were too young to be hitting on me. R. Kelly, I am not. Tip of the iceberg though, ladies and gents.

Saved by the train. I texted my homegirl the gist of the situation and she was rolling. And these two* sure enough got on the same d*mn train that I did. Thus to the empty seats near the opposite end of the car I went. Far enough away so they knew further attempts at my attention were futile. A rather calming quiet fell over the train as the doors close and we pulled off. I've always enjoyed the paradox of silence on the subway; the peaceful ambiance of strangers briefly sharing life soundtracked as wheels meet rails.

I would have enjoyed that yet again were it not for T-Pain. "I'M IN LOVE WITH A STRIPPER..." squawked the fearless leader of the duo with one of those annoyingly high and nasal voices. You know, the kind of voice that no matter how cool the person was, you couldn't be friends with that voice because you would eventually snap on them like "Ahhhh, shut up!! Seriously, write it down!! You and the words with the sounds you disgorge; not cool. I'm sorry, but gone somewhere with that!" Imagine a female Chris Tucker. Excessively loud in public; stereotype #1 fulfilled. Good job. Though that, my friends, would merely fall into the category of 'a shame', let's go Emeril on this here.

The friend... oh the friend... why I thought she would just sit there entertained by her accomplice's nearly boastful ignorance was my optimism at its best. No, the friend decided to make the nearest vertical bar her personal stripper pole. 'This ... one*!!' I thought. The swaying train could not hide the fact that her short-lived aspirations of being a video "vixen" were increasingly ambitious. But like a true girlfriend, the T-Pain-a-be was there to wrap the bane of Juilliard in a blanket of teases.
"Man I wish these white folks couldn't see this," I thought as I watched them spectate these two*. However, the added sting was that as (almost) the only brotha on the train they looked to me next. As if this sh*t was the discovery channel and I'm supposed to be reacting to a mating display; or looked to me as if I were supposed to narrate and explain what they were witnessing; or maybe "Pay no attention to these two*," and briskly curtain them off Wizard of Oz style - that's what they wanted. Oh no-o-o, at best, these people would discern a dismissive look of disapproval before I continued to ignore the two. My eyes fell upon the man directly across from me. Dressed like a professor recently finished lecturing (and given the plethora of institutions in the vicinity he very likely was) the man looked at me like "Well?!" My eyes responded "Just ignore them" seconded by a brief shake of my head. I then tried to lead his eyes away by looking out the window behind me. Mission accomplished.

Until the commander-in-beef (yes, 'fearless leader' was roundest) decided to shift this evenings unwelcome entertainment to the much-anticipated "Stomp The Yard" sequel (don't actually wait for one). Continuing to belt her side of their conversation well beyond the noise of the train supporting d*mn near every stereotype with content and volume, she kicked off a step exhibition. Nope, try again. Her stepping was on par with her partner's pole-dancing. Thus, in turn, kicking off the passengers' questions (in their minds of course): "What are you doing? What are you talking? What are your goals? Why are you?" Apparently these folks don't know about the contest. (See And The Winner is Flava Flav...)

Above everything (in offense and volume) was their gossip. I'll spare you details of their conversation. Ok, I'm lying... I really didn't care to retain their words. Though no one should waste their brain space on that trivia. Remarkably, so many of us are more wrapped up in the lives of celebrities than our own that we miss our time to shine. But trust me, were you to watch BET for 14mins, soon enough you'd be privy on their dialogue. And soon enough for us meant their destination, our salvation, and my new Zoolander look called 'Dammit quit looking at me! I'm as removed as you are. Would you like a disclaimer?'
"The views and actions expressed here were solely those of their speakers and do not necessarily represent Black or African-American people here and in perpetuity. Please disregard the interruption. In the event of an emergency, please remember that the other minorities in the vicinity have no obligation nor desire to assist your detrimentally inquisitive ass and will more than likely bear witness to your inevitable demise provided the aforementioned danger is isolated to you only."

I share this all-too-frequent experience at all to serve as a reminder that -as unfair as it is and whether you want to or not- you represent all of us when you are in public. You never know whose ignorance you are influencing when joking around. Thus your good time may be at the expense of another brotha or sista. Again, not saying it's right, but it's true. Now I'm hearing the "A Different World" theme playing.

*- So you've probably noticed by now that I had asterisks abound when referring to these two. Well, regardless of the emotion at the time -trying to be the exact opposite of the pair so folks wouldn't walk away going "I knew it!! Just like on BET..."- I refused and still refuse to call them out of their name. Even though these embarrassments were working my last nerve.

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