Tag Archives: millennials

Today’s Word is… HOMEBODIES

So it was my 25th birthday, my first birthday being single, first grown ass birthday (and so I thought, 25 ain’t grown… Little nigglets) and so I was like fuck it, Ima throw a party. Reached out to those party promoter friends who you all have but never acknowledge until you need something and set it up. What was also notable is that my license had expired on my birthday. I probably should’ve took care of it before then, but one thing you gotta know I’ma be a nigga for life *Sisqo yell* and I didn’t want to spend my birthday at the DMV. I just wanted to chill at the crib reading tweets and wall posts from strangers and friends I’ve been promising to link up with for the past few years. So I renewed it online. Shoutout to technology. Or so I thought… While renewing a license online is convenient, you don’t get a temporary one, hell not even a sticker like a new one is on the way. But what’s a few days? Fast forward to me arriving at the party, and dude is like… Nope, expired. Never mind that he can see that a) I’m clearly over 21 b) it’s clearly my birthday and this is a complete dick move. But it was clearly c) it was me and a bunch of other black men and they almost always have some reason or another to not let one or all of us in.

That randomly crossed my mind when I saw this article about how millennials don’t really go out anymore. One of the reasons I typically avoid most spots, is stories like that birthday one where it feels like the primary incentive is to keep people like *me* out. Where dad hats are accepted but snapbacks and fitteds are not. Spencer has a polo with a wrinkled collar on but you can’t get in with a black v neck. Shorts in the middle of June not allowed, women can show up looking like who did it and why. You need a valid license or passport with a photo taken within the last 6 months meanwhile a 5’3 freshman just walked by with her sisters ID that says she’s 5’7. Then you get in the spot, the music is trash, women don’t want to dance with you, it takes 15 minutes for the bartender to acknowledge you and then on top of that the drinks are weak, and half the people there are just snapchatting the 6 people who are actually there having a good time. I rather take it to the crib. (Not really. I’m an introvert but not necessarily a homebody, I’m weird like that.) I actually don’t hate going out, I just hate everything around going out. When I do go, I have a good time. My Mint app might judge the hell out of me Monday morning but memories don’t live like people do.

But as more bars and clubs shut down (imagine if they simply tried to appeal to more diverse crowds) and the more apps that ensure you don’t have to leave your house (like every time I open Instagram there’s a new monthly service of here’s a box of stuff, food, clothes, accessories, toiletries… Like we really are lazy af, no wonder aliens won’t pull up). The game done changed; more often than not I’m talking to friends about what they been watching on Netflix than weekend adventures. People feel more left out on Monday morning having a missed Game of Thrones than they do not coming out to [Random Adjective Saturdays] at [club]. Just last week in lieu of a Super Bowl party, just watched the game home alone cracking jokes on Twitter and group chats (and given the results I ain’t wanna be around nobody no way). Clubbing has become more of an special occasion deal, basically if it’s not your birthday or your last day in town, I’m RSVPing “yeah, I’ma see” which is black for, “nah”. I’ll catch the highlights on Snapchat tomorrow morning. Turn up for what.



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Today’s Word is… FLIGHT

The “fight or flight response” is our body’s primitive, automatic, inborn response that prepares the body to “fight” or “flee” from perceived attack, harm or threat to our survival.  You could say the same applies to our overall well being, particularly in dating. Your relationship hits a snag, do you fight or flight?  I feel like the generations before fought; adversity just came with the territory.   We all know of the old married couple who damn near hate each other and now they’ve been married 50 years because who wants to start over even after 10.  Then of course there was the whole women couldn’t work, don’t want to leave the kids, cost of divorce, etc so they just rode the wave of a decision they made at 18 years old and waited for the other to just die already.   The pickings were slim and when you had one you kept it.  Abuse, affairs, aloofness, alcoholism  (alliteration for the win) you rode it out.
These days, having seen what they went through we are flightier than ever. We stay in airplane mode.  It’s easy to move on when every single person in a 30 mile radius is right there in an app.  (Or further than that; if you’re into that kinda thing) Is it an overcorrection?  Perhaps.  Dating has become fundamentally flawed because everyone has one foot out the door because they won’t be the ones looking like BooBoo the fool.  We’ve gone from slim pickings to option overload.  We’re casually moving on the next one and effectively not learning anything. Where’s the incentive to?  I learned recently some women won’t even save your number until you prove yourself.  A contact, B?  We are so dismissive about dating that it’s like why do we even bother?  Or is it we are just really careful.  We hook up, explore options and when we’ve had our fun we turn around and then settle down with no regrets.  Maybe we need a word for the stage when you are dating but are fairly certain you haven’t found your forever worth fighting for.

 My fight was the skrongest.  I fell hard and fast and turned a blind eye to things that I probably knew better to.  Now, it’s a fight to even want to fight.  I’d become a pragmatist, we probably won’t get married so this is just borrowed time anyway.  It wasn’t even that I didn’t care for these women I just couldn’t disabuse myself of the inevitable.  I’m an INFJ, I project and shit.  It wasn’t fair to them (even though I’m pretty accurate with these things), the magic 8 ball in my head told me this wasn’t going to last and I acted accordingly.  Now because of me, she is pretty much over geminis, dark skin, beards, accountants, and dudes with blogs.  So she’s cold to them and they take it our on the next girl. It’s the circle of strife.  

Maybe one day we’ll reach that middle ground where you aren’t hanging on to a dead end relationship but also aren’t blocking numbers because you haven’t spoke in a few days.  Where real feelings aren’t being hidden by passive aggressive memes and being yasssssed by the same home girls who are eyeball emoji’ng his pictures.  I used to be patient, I used to be persistent and even I have to catch myself from sinking the whole island when I’m peeved.  I’ve stayed too long in situations and probably gave up too easily on others. The former likely the cause of the latter.  You fight and get your ass whooped your instinct is probably flight the next time.  And flight is the safest way to go if you never want to be hurt, but it’s also means you’ll never win either.  


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Filed under Dating, Relationships, Simply Stan

Today’s Word is… CALLS


So I’m not a phone person; I’m a writer…I need cogitation, rumination in this dancery.  Tequila was the exception, she would call anyway, I would answer and suddenly it’s like 2 am and I’m counting how many hours of sleep I will have if I go to sleep at that instant and would I have time to grab coffee I will desperately need.  We could talk about everything and nothing at the same time, like how many times the WB tried to make fetch happen with Holly Robinson Peete, the Panama papers, how petty Prince is being in heaven or how neo soul songs be so smooth you don’t realize how much of a fuckboy they’re being.  I enjoyed our calls, it became my new normal.  After it was over I thought maybe she finally had broke my long cold war with the phone call…she didn’t.  Even from people I like, I can’t hide my lack of enthusiasm for this call.  After I say what needs to be said its like, I need to throw this napkin away, lemme call you right back.  (Don’t expect a call back).  Then there’s someone like my father, who wants everything he needs to know in that one call, efficiently.  Then he runs out of gas, it becomes “so…..you’re still a manager at that place, huh?”  

If only there was a way to say something when you have something to say and just not when you don’t…oh yeah, like a text message. But instead of being too much like right, we hold on to this romantic notion of the phone call.   We think back to the days of R&B song voicemails, 3 way calling, and eagerly anticipating calls from people you already seen today. Meh. Perchance it’s introversion, millennialism, or whatever but don’t call me, B. 

1. It’s intrusive –  The first time my office phone rang I was legit startled, like why is this paper weight making noise. I cringe when my cell screen lights up with an incoming call as I wait for it to go away because EVERYONE knows when it goes to voicemail after a ring and a half you’ve been rejected (why isn’t there an app for this, let freedom ring).  At least text first, you don’t know what I’m up to or who I’m with for that matter.

2. What you want – I assume most out the blue calls are pocket dials, at which point I will text to confirm.  Unlike a text where your actual thought is there to be read and interpreted…I don’t know why you called, and unless there’s a voicemail or an elucidating text I’m gonna assume it’s nothing which brings…

3. Public phone calls – I’m tickled by other people having private ass conversations out in public, myself I hate it.  I refuse to be the one having the wildly inappropriate convo…like the other day this girl was leaving the gentleman’s home, apparently he didn’t make a move, she wondered to her friend does he like women or maybe he has a disease. (if this conversation was any indication I can see why he passed, but I’m sleep).  I couldn’t not hear this conversation, and so I was 

a) waiting to see if someone on the train was going to cuss her out

b) astounded how comfortable she was having this conversation in public…like that was a group text topic if there ever was one

Lost are the days of private conversations in the kitchen, fiddling with the cord, speaking of…

4. Cell service is trash – I can barely hear you, or you can’t hear me…I would get a landline but then Comcast gives your number to telemarketers  (stay woke).  Doesn’t matter if you’re Android or iPhone, Verizon or T mobile..it’s all shaky. It’s 2016 and technology has gotten worse in this regard…or maybe they realize no one wants to talk on the phone.  

5. I said what I said –   I don’t like calling customer service, I will read that ass in a DM tho.  I’ve made it a practice to email my boss when I’m calling out because she loves to make a quick call out a business call full of updates and all the adulting shit I’ve already made a decision not to do today.  It’s simply more convenient to have what I need to say, right there in black and white and undebateable. “I’m not feeling well, I won’t make it in ok thanks bye.” So much easier than picking up the phone trying to sound like Jeezy and sell this cold. 

Most people who are strongly pro phone call are anti text because of the implied dismissal that comes with it.  Convenient means effortless, effortless means uninvested, and uninvested means a 10 year situationship. Crack, crevice, deviance.  Being called versus texted has become a line in the sand; I need your undivided attention, for reasons.    Why not up the ante, is a facetime more intimate than a phone call now? Are we not allowed to multitask anymore?  Or is this all just…silly.  Communication is communication, whether it’s read or heard and frankly, most of what you have to say can be said in about 300 characters.  If not, we can discuss over lunch instead.  


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