What’s Your Price?

My girl called me last night sounding like she had just been hit by a truck.

“Girl, what’s wrong with you?”

“Your friend is such…a…hoe.”

“Who?” I ask curiously. This chick doesn’t gossip, so I assume she’s talking about herself.

“Your friend is such…a…hoe.” she repeats.

Yeah, she’s talking about herself.

“What did you do?”

“Remember K, the one we met that night we went out?”

“Yeah, from the….?” I laugh.

“Shuttup! Yeah, him…” she laughs.

“So?”

“So, I saw him last night. We were supposed to go play pool but we ended up at his place.”

“So?”

“So, he was just looking so good!”

“So?”

“And then he kissed me. It was soo good. I kept thinking, “no, no, no.” but all my clothes came off and..”

“Yeah, you ARE a hoe.” I laugh. “This is not like you, chick. What were you thinking?”

“He is soo damn fine!”

“Well, yeah he is…but damn.”

Now I couldn’t ride out on my girl because I had pulled that stunt too many times, but after we got off the phone I took a long look at my former actions and I thought to myself, “Damn, I was giving it up to niccas strictly based on the fact that they had nice outfits or nice sneakers or a nice haircut.”

They didn’t have to DO anything in particular. All they had to do was look good.

Look good.

These men inherit genes from their parents that they have no control over, athletic build, pretty eyes or sexy legs and that automatically warrants some free booty from women?

It is so true that when a woman meets a man, within seconds, she has assessed him and decided if she wants to hit. But why?

Why? Why do I see a fine man and I get this throbbing sensation in my…body and my head starts to feel all dizzy and I began to picture myself jumping on him and… well, you get the picture?

Why am I getting all excited just writing about this?

I don’t know. I remember feeling all good because I wasn’t the type to take gifts from a man or demand that he do something for me. “My cootie-kat doesn’t have a price.” I’d think to myself and smile with satisfaction. Then dumb as a doorknob, I’d give it away for free.

Dude didn’t have to DO anything but be cute or be funny or just be around long enough.

As I got older I began to hear from women who demanded payment for their goodies. I’m not talking about $100 on the night stand type payment. I’m talking about, “Here’s my utility bill/car note/rent.” And it seemed like the men these women dealt with knew exactly what time it was.

You get some. I get some. We got a deal.

Is this wrong? Maybe. Maybe not.

So, what should be the qualifying factor?

“I looovvve him girl, he rubs my back and washes my hair, and I sho’ll do looovve him!” BOOTY PASS- JUMP IN!

“He is soo cute. Look at them shoes! They so white, looking fresh out the box. Mmm, mmm.”

BOOTY PASS- JUMP IN!

“Damn, I know I ain’t had no business over here this late. Now he all looking at me and licking his lips. I was just bored. I don’t wanna seem like a tease. Damn…” BOOTY PASS- JUMP IN!

“My man comes here every other Friday and hands me his entire check and asks for some money so he can go out with his boys. I don’t play!” BOOTY PASS- JUMP IN!

“Ok, it’s been a month. He’s taken me out to dinner 3 times, and he got me those boots I’ve been wanting. He calls me his girlfriend…So I guess it’s okay.” BOOTY PASS- JUMP IN!

In all honesty, everytime I have had sex with a man I have felt like he has taken something from me. I never feel like I “got mine.” I feel like I gave him a piece of me. A piece he didn’t deserve or know what to do with.

We all have our rules for intimacy. Standards we set so we’ll feel justified in crossing that line. What are you waiting for? When do you think it’s time? When can you rest comfortably and say, “This is how it’s supposed to be.”