Some years back, this chick I was hitting, let’s call her ‘Anne’, told me one morning after I couldn’t find her by phone the night before, that she’d fucked her ex-boyfriend. Needless to say, this left me in a bit of a quandary. One the one hand, pride said to get rid of Anne immediately. On the other, Anne had the goods.
So I did what just about any man would have done in this situation: I hit two ex-girlfriends. The effect was… interesting. At about the height of all this sex and intrigue that was going on between me, Anne and the third, fourth and fifth parties, I’d hit an ex and got with Anne within about an hour. Of course, I had to floss to Anne the fact that I’d just hit an ex. She was noticeably disturbed by this. Then I said, “Don’t worry, I took a shower.” That sent her off the deep end.
Now, while the sex that followed was sick, what was even sicker was the troubling notion that Anne would have preferred me to have not showered.
Reading between the lines – as I always do – in the NY Daily News article about Beyonce and Jay-Z, it didn’t surprise me that J. Randy Taraborrelli, the writer of the new Beyonce Bio, Becoming Beyonce, claims that while Jay-Z might have had a few things on the side before he actually put a ring on The Queen, he shut it all down after the dearly beloved had gathered together.
This makes sense.
Just judging by the meticulous management of his career and image, Hov’s a man ruled by logic and not by passion. And logical men, once is a goal is accomplished, move on to the next goal. “Ok, I’ve got the money, let me get the woman. Ok, I’ve got the woman, let me get the kid…” And so forth.
But here’s the thing: my little Anne was a comparative nonentity and she wanted the literal funk and stench of an altogether anonymous woman involved in our thing. Can you imagine the line of women, great and small, that would Popsicle-lick Jay-Z simply for the chance of getting a taste of the funk and stench of The Queen?
Monks don’t have the kind of discipline and dedication Hov would need to remain faithful; if, in fact, that’s what he’s doing.
And what’s up with The Queen? Taraborrelli’s bio excerpt didn’t even suggest the possibility that Beyonce was cheating.
As far as karma is concerned, longtime hip hop fans have to feel that eventually, Hov’s gonna pay for the dirt he did to Nas by sleeping with that man’s baby-mom, not out of attraction, but out of spite. Never a good thing. Too many weird implications involved, some of them even homoerotic.
And of course, there’s another interesting tidbit Taraborrelli interjects: Beyonce wasn’t feeling Hov to start. It was The Queen Mother who had to put her daughter on to Hov, suggesting she go out with the kid from Marcy.
This brings to mind another slew of wild ideas, some of which are straight from the Chris Rock, “You weren’t her first choice” playbook.
Must be hell to be Jay, hitting the streets every day, ass everywhere, bizarre thoughts racing through your mind, and then to have to come home to your simple little wife and kid.
It’s easy to see why some men simply couldn’t do it.