why you treat me so bad?

well, first, i feel compelled to explain why as a grown man, i would still rent a movie pointedly written and marketed for teens and tweens. so then "lemme 'splain something to you, lucy." from time to time, i find myself absolutely fascinated with these abjectly stupid teen flicks. work with me now. i'm a little different. i have been known to find curious delight in the music of actors-turned-singers like jasmine guy and joey lawrence. and i did buy both the dvd and accompanying soundtrack to chris rock's farce non-sequitur pootie tang. anyway, these 7th-thru-12th-grade films depict an exclusive subculture that i should be acquainted with, given that i took 6 years and waded through it's viscous currents, yet somehow emerged into adulthood feeling totally disconnected from.

now that i've given you that disclaimer, the cinema highlight for the night was mean girls starring lindsay lohan. not a disney family movie by far, but it had plenty of unlikely entertaining moments. the noteworthy one that's getting my attention tonight is that piece of the movie where lindsay's character cady who has succeeded in infiltrating a popular clique has well lost her identity within it and been baptized before God, country, and student body as a [female dog]. having spied the guy of her desire, she with perfectly wrought porcelain doll makeup entices him saying:

cady: "hey. i'm having a small get-together at my house tomorrow night... it's just gonna be a few cool people, and you better be one of them, bee-yach."
aaron: "fine, i'll go."
cady: "shut up. i love that shirt on you." [devilish smile]

so this is what passes for juvenile-style seduction today? you must be kidding me. but not quite. oh how i would have given my middle name to get such a crass invitation to a soiree thrown by a member of that hormone-ridden inner circle. it's not lady like. it's not polite or congenial. still, God knows that's the same devilish smile plastered across a pretty type face on a hot type girl with a stank type attitude that learned me how to be a professional doorstop at the age of 12.

she was conceited, elitist, moody, foul-mouthed, and abusive, and i was so in love with her, she could do no wrong. the day i met her, she made her entrance down the hallway cussin', fussin', and beating dudes off her with a hard-back binder full of loose-leaf paper. she'd just moved to the neighborhood and was starting the school year late. taken by surprise, she drew back to swat me too as i tried to open the door for her. i was like "hey! i'm tryin' to help you here! why are you being such a [female dog reference again]?" she took me aback right back when she paused, apologized, and uncovered her sweet, sly, irradiant smile before me.

she was the quintessential "rose who grew from the concrete" to me, painted in the most beautiful shade of brown God ever mixed on a palette. about 5'7", maybe 5'6", fastidious and sassy stylish. shapely, but not frail. and get this. she had a unibrow. they connected ya'll. yup, she had the little whispies skippin' right across her forehead. didn't matter to me none. she coulda asked me to move her bangs and kiss her where the separation was supposed to be. i'da jumped to it like aretha franklin.

"Oh, how I wish I could hold her hand and give her a hug
She was married to the man, he was a thug
His name was Lee, he drove a Z
He'd pick her up from school promptly at three o'clock
I was on her jock, yes indeedy
I wrote graffiti on the bus
First I'd write her name then carve a plus
With my name last, on the looking glass
I seen her yesterday but still I had to let her pass"
- The Pharcyde, "Passin' Me By"

alas though, she wanted nothing to do with me. i tried being nice, i tried dressing different, i tried being a full out sycophant. still nothing. for years nothing. i got the most response out of picking fights with her over whatever i could find. i loved it. it didn't matter if she was cursing at me on a crowded playground. i was just happy to be in her presence. eventually though, i tired of chasing her to no avail and let go of the active pursuit. found out later, she only likes thugs and bad boys, a set to which i shall never belong. no, not even for her, which should tell you how much i disregard that kind of life. through the odd circumstances life brings about, we actually became very good friends not much later and have remained so over the years. i still dote on her quietly and whenever we get together and catch up on things, i still wag my tail like a terrier at breakfast time.

but wait! there's more! among the other flicks i rented, i recently watched deliver us from eva starring gabrielle union. now, gabrielle's married in real life, which so blows the fantasy for me, but i'm now a die hard fan after watching this movie. anyone who's seen it knows it's a thinly-veiled take-off of shakespeare's the taming of the shrew. her character eva has everything a man could not want. she's a caustic, meddling, aristocratic, cantankerous, staunch misandrist and master of vituperation. translation? she mean as hell.

but my God she's so stunningly beautiful that you can't ignore it. her image stays in your mind like tomato stains on tupperware. you can purge and cleanse, but it won't ever fully go away. you can't ignore that she's winningly smart having earned her keep as a trouncer of life's adversities. she soils your pride, but engages everything else within you to move strongly. she's irrepressible, impregnable, impeccable, and thereby... absolutely irresistable. you want to hate her, you know you do! but then, she curls one corner of her lips and tells you not to. so you don't. how does she do it? that has got to be one of those things from the set of tricks my mother and sister warned me that every woman is inherently built and equipped with. see, this is partially why i'm so distrustful of women, i so know that one of them has the perfect arrow for my achille's heel and will mess me the heck up if i just give her a chance, but wait wait wait. whoa. brake. i've become overstimulated and thus, i digress.

(*having collected*) ok! back to the matter. the highlight of the film for me was in the oddest place. after the love scene in the movie (which was pleasantly tame for an R rated film), she is, i suppose, basking in the afterglow and while speaking she gives this squinty smile and for a second and a half looks just like my girl! it took me all the way back, man. i almost fell out of my chair. so it's only fitting that i refer to the real girl from back in '92 as "my eva" from now on. 'cause, wow... anyway...

so i'm thinking what is it with me? am i the male equivalent of those women who tragically can't stand to be with dudes who know how to treat them well? am i looking for the female equivalent of the ne'er-do-well bad boy thug prototype that i bashed on not too many paragraphs ago? could it be that i really want me an "eva"? ulgh. i don't know. i know i'm a control freak, so i'm so not for being ran over and run down by any woman, but i maybe possibly... eh.

my real life eva was an aberration. i had never met one like her before and haven't met one like her since. it's probably best that she never gave me much more than the time of day in the context of a platonic conversation. that girl might have turned me out and all but obliterated my destiny as an active seeker of righteousness. i highly doubt that i would have have stopped her if it was to be. control freak proclivity would have gotten heaved over one shoulder. this girl had powers. somekinda somethin' different for real. she remains the only girl in history who i would have allowed to treat me that bad... and me like it.

*sigh* i think i have a pattern going here. if you remember that character maxine on living single, i found her comparably exciting and sadly enough, i had more than a couple characteristics in common with her stuffy stock broker love interest kyle barker. i assess from my years of avid watching that the crux of their attraction was this. though they initially hated each other, above that first off-putting, they found that their curiously strong personalities challenged one-another in a productive way. as opposed to running each other into the ground, they fused together enough energy to mutually propel and fortify each other.

look now people, i'm being transparent, but don't get it twisted. i still can't have nobody just comin' through tryna run me, you know? seriously though. it would be a shame before God if some heifer none-too-bright were to find this blog, get misinformed, happen upon me in a public place and start giving me orders. hypothetically though... think about it. the repercussions could be cataclysmic. i mean, i might just start slapping her and i might not be able to stop. you know how them fingers spread out and that right hand get to twitchin' ike-style. (i'm kiddin' about the hand... but not about the heifer.)

anyway, as far as the real eva, i never got my wish of being caught up into the tempestuous currents that her short-burst romances often were (i viewed many of them from a distance). though i'm glad we turned out to be friends, i wish i knew what exactly made me grip her with my heart and not let go regardless of how it burned. i think if i maybe i can duplicate that with someone expedient and more fit to run a family with, my marriage will be indestructable. people are living way longer these days and endurance is key. really ya'll. look at ossie davis and ruby dee. look at mom and pop winans. look at bobby and whitney. ok, wait. nevermind. look at something else.