Nom, Nom, Nom

Now listen, you already know this isn’t your typical blog, and at times it reads very provocatively and can be somewhat risque. Well, I like pushing the envelope; I like being a rebel; and I like talking about inappropriate things. And I probably won’t change any time soon, besides you guys like it, that’s why you read them anyway! But honestly, I talk about things that are interesting and what most folks are afraid to discuss because some of y’all stay doing the most with your judgment. LBVS


This is a touchy subject, one I know will have knee-jerk reactions, especially from men, well, from women too, but I just want to ask…

If a man says he likes getting his salad toss and having his prostate “massaged”,  does this automatically make him gay, or at a minimum, bisexual?

Nom, Nom, Nom.

Now let me say his, I am a person that is sexually free in mind and deed. I don’t have too many, if any hangups or mental blocks when it comes to sexuality and how people express themselves. I will say though, based on social programming alone, AND living in Atlanta (which you already know I believe Atlanta has a certain sexual energy on the city that is unparalleled by any comparable metropolitan city) inquiring about a man’s sexuality upfront is something I think would be a wise thing for women to do.

With having said that, I have to admit, even with all my free-thinking, I still have a teeny part of me that struggles with the idea that a man likes me back-dooring him while still considering himself completely heterosexual. Listen, I am not trying to unload this layered subject of sexuality, gender identification, same sex attraction, or sexual fluidity here. Not even. But listen, I live in Atlanta, G – A, and we all know the reputation here.

Look, I’ve looked it up, and research proves that men that like prostate stimulation, including eating their groceries or tossing their salads, or even those that like digital penetration does not mean a man is gay or even bisexual. After all I believe every part of a person’s body, male or female, can be and is meant for sexual gratification. So why are we so hung up on men that like to experience pleasure in their back door, when women do it all the time? I mean I am in groups where women admit to liking…no loving anal sex. Does not the asshole serve the same purpose for a woman as a man and if so, why is it taboo if a man likes his stimulated? Actually, men probably get more pleasure in there because their “G Spot” is actually located all up and through their back door. I mean what is wrong with women knocking on the back door for entrance?

Since moving to Atlanta, I have had some interesting experiences. One such was with a man that I have to admit, the moment he hiked his ass up, I was like “what the entire #^@%#!”



My first reaction was, he has done this before and I just met a down low brother! Shit. I mean, I thought I had the best radar and could spot these brothers a mile away. But this brother was fine, handsome, very masculine, a huge flirt, and a true ladies’ man, all the signs of a player, not a down low brother, right?  But y’all, it was a bit much for me when I saw how comfortable he was with hiking his ass up in the air, and lying on his back with his legs in the air, just like a woman. It was just uncomfortable, but a part of me was like, let this brother live…right? And then I remembered that “research” I mentioned, and I didn’t want to be presumptuous and judgmental and put this brother in a box, and you know me, I’m always giving folks the benefit of the doubt. In hindsight, I’m wondering if I was just being naive. Ultimately, I think my hang ups got the better part of me.

Here are my questions? What’s wrong with a man allowing himself to be pleasured that way orally or by penetration, especially since women do it too? Does it make him bisexual (sex is so fluid now days, does it even matter)?  If a heterosexual man likes for only his woman to penetrate him with her fingers or even a dildo, do you think that is the gateway for sexual exploration with other men? What is wrong with providing pleasure to your mate however they like it? Why can’t men be free enough to explore their bodies the way it is accepted for women to do all kinds of crazy shit? These are all questions I am asking myself, and I want answers, knowing, there is no right or wrong answer. But is there?

Brothers, what do you think? Ladies are you comfortable with pleasuring your man this way if he lets you know he likes this?

Talk to me.

Until next time,

Smooches sugas!




Single sisters, can you get down with the get down?

Let me tell you, I love this blog, a lot, but what I get a rise out of most is doing live streams on Facebook, interacting with all my friends. Well, I do status updates and live streams, all befitting of the #SOFA brand, so they actually belong here anyway, but because they are generally spontaneous and organic conversations, ain’t nobody got time to be doing a live stream and/or status update, and then turn around and do a blog! I ain’t doing it. I’ve decided to share a few of the live streams here on the blog. Mind you, they are older than the current blogs, but still relevant content.

For those of you who are only familiar with my writing here, you may wonder “who is this Marla chick, and what is she like?” Well, after listening to this video, you’ll no longer wonder who I am and what I’m like. Trust me on that. And listen, some things I post just to cause a little controversy, don’t think you know where I stand completely on any issue, hell I may change my mind before you draw your conclusion!

Let me set this up; I asked a question on January 13th to my Facebook family, and boy let me tell you, I started a sh&@^! storm that day, but that is nothing unusual for me. LOL  I mean, I was making a simple status update and it garnered so many comments, I lost count, but that happens a lot. I mean, can a sister just ask a simple question? *snickers*

Here is what my status update said verbatim:

Would you rather have a wealthy man that provides everything for you, you never want for anything, you travel regularly, and able to pursue your dreams because he doesn’t mind supporting them financially, but he admits and you are aware that he sleeps with other woman on occasion (with protection)?


Would you rather be involved with a man that is struggling financially, but pays his part (and that is it), but you can’t do much else in life, and you life is predictable and limited, but he is faithful.

FOR THE SAKE OF THIS QUESTION, the rich man cherishes you, and doesn’t bring drama into your home. Also, both men love you and don’t ever plan to leave you because you add value to his life. AND finally, let’s rule out STDs or your health being at risk, and assume he is very careful, never does anything without protection and is into quality more than quantity.


If you want to see the full video with me addressing their responses, follow this link below:

Poor Man or Rich Man? What’s Your Deal-breaker?

Tell me what you would do, leave your comments!

Until next time,

Smooches sugas!

I Found Love on a Two-Way Street…

…well kinda-sorta, actually it wasn’t a street at all, but Interstate 285,  in morning rush hour traffic. And honestly, it wasn’t love…wait, it could be, maybe, down the road (pun intended), but more than likely, it’s just another example of how my life is really that of tall tales and misadventure. Besides I really like that song by Stacy Lattisaw, and it came to mind this morning while driving. So I wrote a story about it, “like to hear it, here it go”.


Today started like any other morning, other than I woke up early and lied in the bed 10 minutes longer than normal, which means I was rushing to get out on time.  I’m anal, so I like to be in the same place on the interstate at the same time every day. Surprisingly, I made up for time because the traffic was really easy this morning.

The phone rings at the same time traffic all of a sudden slowed down to a crawl. It never fails, it’s the same spot every day. Anyway, I look for my phone, which is in the middle cup holder, thinking to myself, “who is calling me this early in the morning?” It was my long time friend, actually it was my “ex”, if you will, calling to check on me from last night. See, last night I hosted my first #SOFAInTheCity at one of my favorite spots. “Good morning beautiful”, he says.  I smiled and returned the pleasantry with “hey you”.  We talked I know for a good 10 minutes, then it happened.

As an aside, they, whoever they are, often say you will find love in the most unsuspecting places, when you’re least expecting, and I have always wondered what my “least expecting” place or time would be. I would think, will it be the grocery store, the park, at the gym, where? Anyhoo, let me tell y’all what just happened to me. Mind you, it’s in the middle of rush hour traffic, in Atlanta, on 285.

Y’all, I am driving, in the 2nd left lane from the highway divider, but I normally only drive in the furthest left lane. Well today, I was switching between the two, I mean, I’m just impatient like that and always trying to catch the fastest flow of traffic. Mind you, I’m still on my phone talking to my friend, and I slipped up and said “look at that guy in that Range looking at me”.  What he didn’t know was I was looking in my side mirror to see if he was looking at me too, trying to catch up. Well wouldn’t you know it, his lane starts going faster and mine slows down, so I said “oh well, there that goes”. I ended up jumping back in his lane about three cars behind him and continued my conversation with my friend. Then it happened.

I got back over in the 2nd left lane and I passed him, again. He then catches up, but as I watched him in my side mirror, I could tell he was slowing his speed so he could, hell, I don’t know, do something. This is where I get trifling (and please don’t let me friend read this blog, he will talk about me). I was a little nervous, but getting excited because I had already seen him and scoped out he was a cutie pie.

It all happened so fast!  I “accidentally”, in mid-sentence, hung up on my friend!  OMG I couldn’t believe I did that, I told him to “hold o..”  and next thing I know, CLICK!  I then hit the button to let my window down, after all, this seemed the only right thing to do since he rolled his down too. On the interstate. In back to back rush hour traffic. In the morning. To flirt.


Hell, this was an emergency! What were the chances we would ever meet again? I mean, sure, we could risk just meeting up in traffic again another morning, but really, what were the chances of that happening? I mean, here we were smack dab in traffic, both us slowed down to at least 35 mph just to get his number. And me with my dumb self, couldn’t hear a word he was saying, and between him trying to hold the steering wheel, yell to me his number, and his active sign language using BOTH of his hands, I finally got the number. I mean, this was going down no matter what, he really wanted to give me his number, and I really wanted his number. I was already vibing high from the night before and expecting something good to happen. Whew child, you all should have seen us! Funny thing is, no one blew a horn or cursed us out.

I mean I think we were absolutely right to do what we did, you just have to take risks in life sometimes, right? Who knows, this could be my future husband…or maybe not.

Chile, I called him, he answered, and he had a thick accent, and I immediately knew he was from some country in Africa, more than likely Nigeria from his accent. But hey, I’m no expert on accents from the motherland, but I do know a thing or two about Nigerian men. The interesting thing is, the very first thing he asked for was my IG account and a few other things. I mean, I know I told y’all I like aggressive men, but DAYUM!!!

I bet you all want to know what happened next huh?

Until next time,

Smooches sugas

Nothing more than a mirror

Yeah, yeah, I’ve been gone a LONG time, your girl got caught up in a relationship. I was love-struck, I was finally off the market, I was one of the lucky girls, FINALLY,  who found someone that fit all my desires. I was no longer part of the singles girls club, I mean it was about time right? Don’t get me wrong, I was in the best place ever in my life, happy, truly happy, so when I met him, I figured it was just my time, besides, that’s what my astrologist told me anyway.  Here I was this summer trying to figure out ways to transition this blog about a single chick into one about, hell, about a single chick with a man, but that kind of defeated the entire purpose of the blog, so I literally stopped writing.

I did the typical things girls do when they get a new man; I hung out with him and left all my social circles. I no longer called my girlfriends on the weekends to see where we were going first because I now had constant plans and consistent, good…well you know.

Oooh wee, he was a charmer, he wined and dined me, money was never an issue, we traveled together, we got up on Saturdays on whims and did things like white water rafting, fun, exciting all-day, unplanned dates. I mean, we went to the opera together, planned holiday trips together, we were even recently planning a ski trip in February and a cruise together in April. Hell, I was living the life wasn’t I? We hit all the restaurants in Atlanta that I had never heard of, and he made me feel like a princess, and he treated me like one, well while I was with him. Aaaah, it was the best, I had never really been in a relationship like this…like this. 

We were picture-perfect, I mean, we looked good together, did we ever. Everyone told us that. The sexual chemistry between us was indescribable, I’m just going to leave it at that. So what the hell happened? I woke up one day and realized, “hey girl, you’re in a dateship, not a relationship”. 

We met in July, it was over by December.

So here it is three days before Christmas, and I finally have the desire to finally start writing again, write about being single and what it’s like to find what you think is love, at this age, and lose it all again; what it’s like to think at your age, you are wise enough to know better, but clearly you are still that hopeful, idealistic little girl searching for her prince, capable of ignoring red flags like the best of us.

What I thought had the potential to be a long-term romance, the potential to be “the one”, ended up being nothing more than a mirror. Napoleon Hill once said “life is a mirror of your consistent thoughts”, and if that is true, then I need to thank my ex and be grateful for this experience, because this relationship showed me what I actually think about myself, and frankly, I’ve had some hard pills to swallow in the last few weeks.


I know most of you all, especially if you follow me on Facebook, are waiting on me to spill the tea because I let you in on my secret about 6 weeks into the relationship and even “snuck” a pic or two of us on Facebook. But I promised myself when I created this blog, I would never write about my personal relationships, and I am going to keep that promise. But that doesn’t mean I can’t share some SHIT that I learned at my age that may give you some insight on what it feels like being single in 2016, navigating the dating scene – in Atlanta.

So look out in the upcoming days for some great content, from talking about the alternative lifestyle scene in Atlanta (you don’t want to miss this one), to discussing salad tossing and back door entry, old ass sociopaths, what is too much going out,  and how single women over 40 fit into all of this, especially here in Atlanta. Boy, do I have a lot of things I want to talk about, but for now, let me just share some thoughts sitting on the top of my brain:

  • When it comes to dating, Atlanta. Be. On. That. Bull. Shit.
  • Age has absolutely nothing to do with nothing.
  • Potential will be the downfall of every woman if she isn’t careful.
  • Being an option is never an option, unless you good with being an option.
  • All this over 45, ’bout dried up D@!*&# running around Atlanta thinking they’re hot, getting all these young women, not realizing they’re being interviewed as sponsors.
  • Four months to me is a long time.
  • I’ve got to stop over-dramatizing love and romance. Shit.
  • You can’t make folks stop doing anything, they will only stop when they get tired.
  • Most single people over 40 need therapists they visit regularly, like, for real!

I’ll elaborate a later, I just wanted to let you all to know…I’M BAAAACK!

Smooches sugas

Marriage Perspectives of a Single Woman

20160718_172147There is a new challenge on Facebook called the “Love Your Spouse Challenge”, it’s cute, a little cheesy (ok, a lot) but most of y’all need to stop tripping.

I already know I am going to lose a lot of “friends” or followers on social media for this post. For some reason, people take other folks opinions personally, I get that. But I am challenging you to not allow my opinions carry that much weight. Don’t value my opinion so much it makes you not want to be my friend.


But this is not really a blog about that challenge at all, although it partially inspired it.  I am really not vested in that challenge because it has nothing to do with me. I see other singles asking “what about us” – cut that out single folk. But this challenge came at a time I had been discussing marriage with my friends, married and single. Surprisingly, in a lot of the discussion, my married friends agreed with me. I think marriage has been approached completely wrong. But what do I know, I’m single right?

*You know what, this is going to be two-parter, because I have a lot to say about marriage and how women who are not married, either by choice or “happenstsance”, are viewed as less valuable. I hear it often, how self-sufficient women with high standards and no need to compromise are reduced in value by both men and women in response to her singleness with responses like “that’s why you can’t get a man”.

I can hear it now, “you’re not married so you’re not qualified to speak on marriage”.  Be that as it may, I am going to share my thoughts anyway.  Some of you all are going to swear because I am not married, I am bitter, that’s cool; some of you will swear I am in denial and just haven’t done the work it takes to be married, that’s cool too; some of you will say it is because I can’t keep a man (which I can’t wait to address in the next blog), and that’s real cool. I can get down with all of your deflection. I also know for the most part, a lot of people won’t like this blog. Consider the fact it’s coming from me, but more importantly, consider what you know goes down behind closed doors, consider your own private thoughts. IJS

I know people who have been married for ages, I mean my parents are hitting 49 years in December, and all of my siblings have been married to their respective spouses for YEARS, and I’m the only one not married (and that can be a whole ‘nother blog in itself). But can I be honest, I still don’t want to pattern my marriage off of any of them. I want to define my own marriage. I am the one with middle child syndrome  anyway. 😆


I will, however, concede this may be because I’ve been single so long and “set in my ways”, or maybe it is because I have finally “found” myself (because I sure was lost), finally love myself, and I am actually happy with life, even enjoy being single, and frankly, I love having options. I will admit this attitude can be something of a quandary when in fact I desire to be married, but I have little patience for the process. Maybe the root of it is because I view marriage so completely different, it is hard to find someone that has let go of antiquated archetypes that limit my further evolution as a woman. I refuse to be put in a time capsule when it comes to traditional marriage and give up the identity I fought so long to find. Call me selfish, I don’t care. Those who know me well know I am not and have never been a conformist, but I can be honest and say my views on life and marriage in particular are still evolving, and there are some traditional ideas and roles I still admittedly embrace while I struggle to find the harmony with my views.  I don’t necessarily believe in the strict biblical ideology of marriage, in the sense God “himself” created marriage as a sacred institution in the Garden that is unto death. That is not to say that it doesn’t work that way. I know this is where I am going to lose most of you.


I value highly those who stay together because they are committed for life, and will not sacrifice that commitment despite the fact they no longer desire to be married to that person, it’s their duty. Let the record show, I love to see successful marriages, power couples, people who rise together and stay together. That’s what I want, because let’s face it, when I get married, at this age, I have no plans on finding someone to partner with again. I love those couples who defy the odds, who defy stereotypes. For instance, I love that Debbie Allen and Norm Nixon genuinely seem happy after 32 years of marriage; I love how Will and Jada and Mo’Nique and Sidney Hicks give ZERO when it comes to the scrutiny of their marriages. I love that! I wholeheartedly believe there are many happy, “in love” couples that have navigated this marriage journey and have grown individually as people, and caused them to grow as a unit; there are people married for years that genuinely love being married to their spouses.  Also, I believe some people were destined for long marriages because they chose the right mate. But I also know there are many… MANY that feel stuck and want out; many that believe they wear sold a bill of goods and still haven’t reaped the advantages.

With all that said, here are some my thoughts on what marriage is/is not, remember these are just MY opinions, not truth:

  • Most of y’all wish you had a do-over and will never admit it
  • Very few marriages are to be envied. I’ll stay single if I have to do the amount of compromising some of you do
  • There is NO blueprint for marriage, what works for one doesn’t have to work for another
  • Marriage is NOT an institution established in Eden. Hell, back in the ancient bible days all a dude had to do if he raped a female child was marry her; fathers sold their daughters like property
  • Too many think marriage is about two people becoming one, I think that is part of the problem
  • Marriage is a legal institution, not religious one, if it were not so, you wouldn’t need a license
  • Love really has little to do with marriage
  • There is not just one person made for you, if that were the case we would have no divorce rate
  • It should be legally mandated to have to renew marriage licenses every 5, 10, 15 years, LBVS
  • Most people stay married out of guilt and DUTY and I think that is sad
  • The truest test of a marriage is NOT combining your finances, folks need to keep money separate and decide who is responsible for what
  • Marriage doesn’t have to be for “always and forever”, and that’s okay
  • Money SHOULD be one of the main deciding factors in your choice to marry anyone
  • It is okay to dissolve a marriage if one person grows apart, or both grow and realize they have different goals and life paths OR if they realize they made a mistake
  • It is idiotic to stay in a marriage if you are unhappy; it is not selfish to want to be happy
  • Open marriages are not just about having multiple sex partners, some of you all are in open marriages and don’t even know it
  • I like my last name, I’ve always had it, and I am not sure I want to drop it. Not taking a man’s name doesn’t mean I am not committed to him or don’t love him
  • Marriage does not mean you suddenly have ownership over another person and can control their decisions and thinking and beliefs
  • Marriage should always come with a benefit to you, always. This doesn’t make you selfish, it makes you smart. Marriage should be a partnership with mutual goals, otherwise stay single
  • Some say marriage is a covenant, I say it’s a contract (well both), with guidelines and expectations

I am pro-marriage, just anti-anything or anyone that tries to define what marriage should look like for others. This whole romanticized notion of marriage has many of us jacked up. I am not afraid of commitment either, but I refuse to be unhappy. I can’t wait to find that someone that is like-minded and doesn’t want to sacrifice individuality for the sake of being “one”; someone that makes me better and I him; someone that is not trying to rule over me, but reign with me.  A partner for life, or until…

Until next time,

Smooches sugas

Stop the Cooch Abuse!

This is about to be good. Listen, I already know I’m going to get major push back equally from men and women, but this isn’t written for men, so their opinions on this matter really don’t hold much weight. ijs

I’m about to free some of you, women and men; I am about to challenge some notions many women have held onto and taught men to accept and expect. So much wrong information is out here, I am about to school some of you. Listen, if you’re embarrassed easily or just a straight up prude, keep on reading.

I’m just going to put it out here, you ladies out here shaving your cooch-cooch baby butt-bottom bald, “you need to cut it”….OUT! WHO TOLD US SHAVING OUR PUBIC AREAS BALD IS HYGIENIC OR NECESSARY?  I am 44 years old, and I am going to admit, I had never, ever waxed my hair until I was probably in my late 30’s, and I’ve only had one Brazilian wax ever in my life two years ago. I mean, I never had any issues, so now I’m wondering what in thee hell is going on. Now don’t get me wrong, I’ve trimmed the bush before, and even shaved myself before, but it was never a regular thing and never something I even thought men cared about. But I’m telling you, the game has indeed changed. I have seen men in my generation sitting up here having expectations of grown ass women having bald pubic areas. Like, what the hell is going on? I mean I know of women my age and older sitting up here getting Brazilians, and y’all know your mothers and grandmas ain’t ever taught you to shave. I didn’t start shaving my legs until after high school because my daddy told me black girls didn’t shave their legs, and hairy legs were sexy, and he told me to go look at my mama’s legs. And yep, she had hairy legs. That’s the male vantage point I came from; hair just wasn’t nasty or indicative of poor hygiene and men liked that shit.

I am not going to tackle the hygiene part of why shaving isn’t necessary, I want to hip you to something I think is very important in the dating/mating game. Let me stop and say, this blog is inspired by my boy Javonne, because he said something in a video last week that made me do some Google research, and I be damn, it seems absolutely true. When he said what he said, my energy aligned with it so I received it as true, but I just had to read it for myself. And he was right.

Back in the day, we used to be drawn to people, I mean like “intoxicatingly” drawn to them. I honestly used to be so attracted and turned on by men that had a bit of a sweaty smell under his arms, not musty, sweaty, and it was weird that was a turn on for me. I love men with hairy armpits. I can’t explain it, it is just manly and sexual to me. And men, I know for a fact, there is a certain odor that turns you on, and you know what I’m talking about, but it is something you love, and every woman is different. You all want to know what that is…PHEROMONES.

Pheromones are odorous substances that we secrete and emit from our glands, and HAIR function as receptors for these secretions that we don’t see. Little magic wands! Come on now, think about this even, why do you think women are so attracted to beards now days, they think they are sexy, and they are drawn to men part of the #BeardGang?  Ladies, you ever been around a man with a beard? Tell the truth, the allure is captivating isn’t it?  Umhmmm, starting to see my point?

It seems the allure of mating is gone; true dating is a mating game, and no I’m not talking about just having sex. But like other mammals in the animal kingdom, we too can pick up on the right scent, right nature of a potential mate, it’s how we are drawn to them. The allure of forbidden sex appeal is gone, and people are just moving on the outward appearance and not drawn by that something anymore; not drawn by the personal essence of a woman, or man. It’s all a part of what we call chemistry. I hear now more than ever, people just aren’t experiencing chemistry with people any more. I am telling you, I believe I know a small reason why; keep on laughing, but hear me out. Here is the lesson I’m about to “learn” you today: We are waxing, shaving, and exfoliating all of our essence away, our pheromones away. STOP IT!!!!



Now with all that said, I am not advocating not washing the cooch or even some general “maintenance” if you must, especially if you can do a twist out down there, trim your baby (a low-cut fade will work too), and god knows, don’t nobody wanna smell no musty, sweaty, hairy balls, I’m just saying.  This is something to think about, besides, we need our hair down there, even under the arms, and our legs. Ladies, some of us have bought into this myth our vaginas are supposed to be “pretty” and smell like an oil burner with potpourri. GIRL, YOUR VAGINA LOOKS AND SMELL THE WAY IT IS SUPPOSED TO SMELL, STOP SHAVING THINKING YOU ARE GOING TO BE CLEANER. GET. IT. TOGETHER.  You don’t need to shave or wax in order to be clean, your va-jay-jay is like a self-cleaning oven. Who lied to us!? If you have an issue with odor being trapped in your hair, then you need to examine your diet and drink more water, bathe more, or go see your “lady doctor” because you have something else going on! Girl, get yo life! And to the men complaining about vaginal hair during sex. I tell you what, I bet your daddy and granddaddy weren’t complaining, and if they “doth protest” about doing a certain deed, then in the words of Beyonce, “middle fingers up, tell him ‘boy bye”!  I am going to say this, most grown men I know don’t care and do not want to see a hairless cooch.

I’m just saying, it’s time to STOP THE COOCH ABUSE! Who’s with me…or not? LOL

OAN ladies, I want to give you a suggestion that will change your life. If you want a va-jay-jay that is always balanced, fresh, and “normal”, let me suggest you slather it daily after showering with COCONUT OIL. Yes you heard me, coconut oil. I love that stuff. I swear by it. I shower, without soap, per doctor’s order, and then I dry and use a very liberal amount of coconut oil. I never go a day without it. Try it, you’ll thank me later!

Until next time,

Smooches sugas!



I Don’t Owe You *%$?!

This blog is not an indictment on all men. This blog is not something that normally happens to me, matter of fact it has never happened. This blog is not the angry black woman’s response, but it is my very passionate response. This blog is long, VERY long.

Let me say, I started this blog at 1:47 am this morning after a very eventful evening. You all know this blog is about my misadventures as a single woman over 40 in Atlanta, and I think it is clear by now that this dating game has indeed changed. And let me offer this tidbit, if you are married reading this, halfway love your husband and can see yourself working that shit out…WORK. THAT. SHIT. OUT. Don’t come back out here in these dating streets, with everything I love, I am warning you.

It is a good thing i decided to go to bed and wait until I had some rest before I wrote this blog. I mean, I had warnings written for you because I was fuming. But now cooler heads prevail, so let me set this story up for you.

I went out last night, Friday night with my girlfriends, and after a very uneventful evening, we cut it short and I came home. But honestly I wasn’t feeling ending my evening just yet, and I was starving so I decided to head back out and find me something to eat.


I went to a local eatery that is opened until 3:00 or 4:00 am, full kitchen and full bar, the only place I know of in metro Atlanta opened that late besides Krystal or Waffle House. The drinks are cheap, but potent, so I made my way to the patio because the temperature was perfect and the inside is always, always super smokey. I get to the patio and found a very small two-top and sat down.  There was a man alone to the right of me, couples and groups of people dispersed throughout the patio. One group was really loud, with an inebriated woman and some man trying to get her to drink water. My server finally comes to my table, she was quite “honky tonkish”, but very nice. I ordered my Ketel One chocolate martini and picked up my smart phone to see what was going on on Facebook and Snapchat. I really was enjoying being alone, chuckling from time to time as I heard the live band playing a slightly country version of “Little Red Corvette”, but just enjoying being out. I was not in the mood to talk to any strangers on this night, I wasn’t on the prowl. I really did not want company or to entertain conversation.

In walked three men, I didn’t even look up because I didn’t want to give anyone eye contact, because they could possible interpret that as permission to interrupt my solitude.

Well just damn.

You’ve probably figured it out, that didn’t work. So here I am, feeling obligated not to come off rude, because I know dudes really cannot take rejection well. As a woman, we have all experienced a rejection “clap-back” from men, and it can sometines be very threatening. It’s a damn shame women have been programmed to make sure we don’t come off the wrong way when it comes to men, making sure we don’t piss them off, as if we are responsible for their behavior. But I digress, back to the story. Now here is where it gets good. I had one of those “don’t come for me unless I send for you” moments.

The men sit down to the left of me while I’m drinking my chocolate martini. Immediately the man who is more front facing me says, “what are you drinking”. In my head I let out the biggest sigh, because as I already shared, I did not feel like being bothered on this night. I spoke to him, but I deliberately didn’t look at him so maybe, just maybe he wouldn’t feel confident enough, or awkward to continue the conversation. DAMMIT, it didn’t work. So I obliged him and had a small conversation, playing nice and smiling, talking about how I make my martinis. Fine. I can now get back to my smart phone and my uncomplicated night out, right?  I sensed he could maybe tell I wasn’t interested in talking, so the men started a conversation among themselves. The really funny part is they were deliberately talking at me so I could hear the conversation. The wing man was sitting to the back side of me, so I wasn’t able to see his face and I would have had to turn around just to acknowledge him. For some reason he felt the need to mention during their conversation to the man talking to me that he needed someone “like her“. I am thinking to myself “this guy can’t be serious”, but he got a course of amen’s from the other two. SIGH. So the conversation you could tell was being held so loudly they wanted me to hear; the initial guy wants me to know, I could just tell, he makes a lot of money now, he is not like he used to be, he is working now so his son doesn’t have to work, he takes care of his son, blah blah blah blah blah……blah blah blah.

All this time I’m in my phone, and they mention how I am in my phone not taking the opportunity to talk to folks or meet people. I guess they thought I was going to respond, but I kept on ignoring them. Finally, lord, my spinach dip arrives. But damn, I couldn’t even eat that in peace. Remember this was the only thing I’d eaten since lunch. I hear the man in front of me ask the middle man, “what kind of cheese is that she is eating”, and once he said he didn’t know, this was another opportunity to ask me “what type of cheese is that”. GIIIIIIIIIIIDAMN, all I want to do was eat in peace, is that too much to ask for? I looked at him clearly bothered, and told him “it’s spinach dip”.

It all goes down hill fast now.

He looks at me and says, “you look annoyed, am I annoying you?”. *CRICKETS*

Being the terribly honest person I am, and seeing how I really just wanted this all to end, I looked at him, I paused, turned my head and looked him square in his eyes and said “actually, yes you are”. As I sit here now, I can’t believe I said that (talk about living in your truth). But yes, I was annoyed, had been for the 20 minutes. But then it happened,”Mr. Wingman”, who really should have just stayed out of this conversation, says “you are just rude”.


All I heard was “is it that deep”, “oh you going there?”, “just chill out”, “you’re out, you’re supposed to speak to people, that’s what you do”, and here is the one that set the next chain of events in motion, “that’s why you are here by yourself”. WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY F%^#!BOY?

Y’all, I snapped, I literally snapped. I don’t think this blog will begin to describe to you the exchange that took place. I have never in my life done anything like this, but the lashing I gave that table was well-deserved. And let me tell you, I have never felt so empowered. I had the attention of everyone on that patio, and it was loud, really loud. Here I was all alone, defending myself and my right for personal space antd time, so in response to the unwarranted insult hurled at me by this complete stranger, I said: “I  came here alone because I wanted to; I didn’t ask you to come and sit beside me and force me into a conversation; clearly you don’t have any sense of discernment because had you, you would have known I didn’t want you bothering me. I was trying to be nice when you were flirting with me, and yes you were flirting, but no, you couldn’t catch a hint when I kept my head in my phone; I was trying not to be rude so I engaged you in conversation, but you insisted on forcing my attention. I am sitting here trying to enjoy my evening and enjoy my food, now my spinach dip is cold wasting time trying to explain to you. Shut up talking to me now. If you would just be quiet we could be done with this. Whew. I cursed…a lot. He was shocked that I responded that way, he was trying to get me to calm down, I told him I didn’t want to calm down, leave me alone, leave me the @^$*!? alone. Finally I looked him in his eyes again and told him “you’re so busy trying to diffuse this situation that could have been avoided had your boy shut his damn mouth, but while you’re sitting here trying to handle me, a complete stranger, you should instead check your boy for being so rude and insulting to me” He looked like a deer in headlights. I could say so much more, but the point I needed him and his cronies to know…

I don’t owe you shit.

This idea women are responsible for making sure men don’t feel threatened or challenged by rejection has got to stop. Do I look desperate? Who taught men they have the right to expect a response, a “hello”, a wink, smile or anything? I was told last night I should have been willing to be nice and talk to them, that was my purpose for going out. Actually sir, I went out alone on purpose, to eat. The only expectation was for me to sit there and pay for my drink and food.  I am not here to coax the male ego; I am not here to make sure he knows he still got it; I don’t owe my conversation or time simply because someone is attracted to me. I have a right to choose. Now don’t get me wrong, I welcome and love the attention of men, and I am the first to say I am the biggest flirt and enjoy a good conquest. But I draw the line when I am expected to accept unwelcome and unsolicited advances.

Oh, I forgot to mention, while this was going on, I heard in the background “Marla…Marla Pruitte, is that you?” Who in the world was there that I knew. Over walked saw my son’s ex “friend’s” mother and she came over to let me know she’d know my voice anywhere. Hell everyone on that patio knows my voice now.

Rejection is a mutha, but we all have to learn to accept it gracefully and not take it personally. Both men and women have to understand no one owes us anything, not one single thing. I am teaching my sons to be graceful and mindful, and trying to help them understand women aren’t simple conquests obligated to respond the way you want them to; every response should reflect character and respect.

As I look back over last night, I don’t regret one single thing. I know, there will be those PC folks reading this trying to tell me I could have handled it differently and I didn’t have to go off like that, and to that I say, yes I did, and I’d do it all over again.

The dating game has definitely changed.

Until next time,

Smooches sugas!