Wanted: My Boo Thang, My Love

What do the lonely, and not hooked up do?

The assault – rude. The overbearing demand on my money – rude. Nothing cute about a fat baby shooting arrows at people. Shoot something this way partner and watch what happens. Okay, I may be bitter! Nothing cute about some fuzzy red or pink animal with some plastic flowers and bow stapled to it. Animal cruelty. That’s what that is. Except for the year my baby saved his allowance to buy me one. That was the cutest bear EVER.

The new year hadn’t even made a proper entrance before dollar stores were painted in red and pink and hearts and be mine candy and cards. Who develops their marketing plan? For all the ladies – and I guess some of the men who are like me – content in being single, but feeling that nudge for a boo – can you just let us get past Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa and whatever the politically correct holiday is that does not say any of that? We just smiled our way through one family meal after another listening to the chorus of, "You still not married?”, “Are you okay?”, “Are you too picky?” Um, HELLO – mind your business. I didn’t ask, “where your fourth husband in the last ten years is.” We didn’t point out the fact all your children picked the worse spouses ever conceived. And now, the invasion of love’s holiday.

I admit, one visit to pick up a few things from the dollar store should not have set me off – but it did. And there you have it. This is what I get for going the cheap route. I must look at the Valentine’s Day hoopla and fight the urge to rip them up and make confetti out of them. I would have to summon a special dose of imaginary joy to be among the love festival for sale when my niece and I returned to the store. I promised her we would buy everything she needed to make Valentine’s cups for her friends at school and church. I just wasn’t feeling it. To ease the discord in my non-existent romantic environment, I bought a box of heart-shaped chocolate Krispies.

Not delicious, but not bad either; I took down three pieces before the key turned over in the ignition. Brenda’s phone call distracted me from number four.

“How is it you always call me when I’m doing something I should not be doing?” I switched the AC on to high and lowered the temperature. Although it is February, 90-degree temperatures were the norm in South Florida; and although I only paid a buck for that box of chocolates, protecting my investment was a must.

“What are you doing?”

“I, am eating a box of chocolates from the dollar store, in protest of the fact that I ain’t got no man!” I made the statement with as much defiance and disgust as I could muster with another piece of chocolate melting in my mouth.

“Okay. I ain’t got no man? Really! English is what you speak, right?”

“Well, I don’t! And, for the record, I ain’t got no man – which I don’t – is English, perhaps not proper – but English. And I can spell the words – therefore, I can use them.” I don’t imagine she saw my tongue protruding from my mouth; but the nosy guy looking in my car as he walked past my car did and so I extended it in his direction. Secretly, I hoped those damn bears and cupids came to life and punched him the throat.

“And, how – diabetic – is eating a box of chocolates going to help you get a man?”

“Perhaps, he is hiding in one of these heart-shaped demons. Ooh, is that a foot I see?”

“You are so stupid! The candy is not demonic. There is no man hiding in the candy. And I thought you don’t have a man because you weren’t ready for that. What are you going through?”

“I don’t know. And I am very content in being single. I believe, however, that my life is positioning itself to move out of that state of contentment. Guess, I had a little anxiety attack. And now, a sugar rush.”

“Imagine that. I called to ask if you wanted to grab a bite to eat. You probably need something to balance that sugar infusion.”

“I can do that. Tell me something?”

“What’s that? You went from just a touch above zero to a really good man – was there a process?”

“Yeah. Loving me.”