Skip to main content

Remember?

Remember when you loved me? I do. When you came to Harlem to see me in my dinky little room. When you came to see me when I was sick as a dog with strep throat. When you bought me a coffee cup at the haunted house of horrors because you got tired of seeing me drink it out of a plastic cup.

Remember when you wanted to be with me? I do. When you would meet me at the job so we could take the train together. When you invited me out with you and your friends for Halloween. When we spent the day walking through Riverside Park. And all those times we'd go look for places to leave our trash.

Remember when we were friends? I do. When you let me cry on your chest. When you held me when I found out that the man I left for you died. When you held my hand.

What happened?

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Baby...

I heard from The Baby today. The Baby is a young man I met at work. Nice enough guy...he's 29...new to the radio game...and tall and lanky like I like 'em. He showed up at our studios because he was caught in the throes of his format's contract negotiations. When I saw him, I was kinda speechless. Not because he was cute -- he was -- but because I NEVER see other chocolate faces at my job. The conversation we had was one part interesting, one part amusing, but completely charming. Even though my interest in him was purely professional, we exchanged numbers. See, in addition to working as a radio engineer, he also has the inside track to this weekly show I like. For me, that was it. We exchanged a few texts, but nothing major. Then, one day he said that we should hang out. Since I'm always down for an adventure, I accepted. We ended up spending the day at the beach. We had a good time, but there were some definite red flags for me... For one, he didn't tip ...

The Five Commandments of Houseguests

It's Sunday night, and I just put one of my girlfriends on the plane. She's a great person, but this weekend wore on me like none other. In her defense, she's in mourning. Her husband just died in September, and she's learning how to live again. They had been together since high school and now he's gone. That being said...there was NO excuse for the way she acted this weekend. Please understand...I'm not perfect. Never have been. And now that I'm 40, I don't feel the need to apologize for it. But NO ONE gets to make me feel inferior in MY house. Absolutely not! My house wasn't exactly in tip-top shape. I work two jobs, sing in the church choir, and try to work out with my trainer twice a week. So my house wasn't really ready for her. Then I realized that my mind wasn't ready for her, either. Even when we were in school, she wasn't the friend I could hang out with every day. More than that, she came with the very mentality th...

To Cook or Not to Cook

I was having a discussion with a couple of friends about whether or not a woman should be required to cook for a man. My girlfriend and I pretty much agree that we have to be inspired to bust a move with the pots and pans. In this day and age where the men we've encountered feel entitled to certain privileges, we believe that he has to do more than just call us a couple of times and come over to kick it to earn a MackDiva-licious meal. On the flip side, the brother we were talking to said he didn't really want to get serious with a woman whose idea of a culinary feat was tacos. We asked him whether he'd cook for his woman. His response? "Well, if I really wanted to impress her, I'd throw it down with my jerk chicken recipe." Upon further examination, we discovered that his need to impress was in direct correlation to some form of inspiration from the woman. At the end of the day, both men and women want a lot of the same things. However, because we speak diffe...