Zen and the Art of Being Curved


I got curved not too long ago by this bad bitch I saw on line in court.

Dark-skinned, phat ass, athletic tights, black Nike runners, a black turtle-neck, a piercing up high on her cheek and a perm – which I decided to overlook.

I looked for an opening.

A Spanish dude was standing between us.

But when I had to go out into the lobby, she was there.

So, I was like, “Hey, your gorgeous!” Not my best stuff but always a fair enough first attempt.

No response.

Me: “I saw you standing on line and uh…”

To my surprise, she was a bird! “Thank yooooooooooo, now bye please!

Me, nonplussed: “Oh, no worries. Nice to meet you.”

Her: “You didn’t meet me. Now just stop talking to me and get away.”

Me: “Ok, I’ll stop talking to you. You’re still gorgeous, tho.”

Which was, of course true.

The fact that she’d curved me didn’t change the way she looked. I was a little disappointed that she was such a bird. By her style, I would have guessed she had more class. But whatever; you only miss when you’ve got the balls to shoot.

Of course, I literally couldn’t shake this bitch for the rest of my court appointment. And it’s not like I was looking for her.

At first, she sat on the group of bench seats next to mine, same row.

Then, seeming to realize that she couldn’t see me as well without me seeing her, she moved a row back. From there I felt her staring at me for the entire time we were in court together, turning her head quickly those times when I did chance look in her direction.

I’ve long known that when a woman curves you, a good percentage of the time, she’s only doing it to see how you’ll respond.

I mean, there’s a lotta Charles McKinney‘s out there.

If you shout a maniacal “Well, fucc u den, bytch!” she’ll know she was right.

It’s here a little zen helps.

In the movie Claudine, Diahann Carroll as Claudine after meeting James Earl Jones’ character, initially curved him.

Then after she sees how he stands up to an arrogant white man, she decides he’s worth the pussy.

The real fairy tale is William Makepeace Thackeray’s Vanity Fair. In that great book, William Dobbin wants his dead homie’s ex-wife Amelia and suffers through years of a continued curve only to write her a letter, leave, and by making her miss him, win her.

But who’s got that kinda time?

My two best ever responses to being curved were once, Upstate, when I was pulling a “misdirection” anyway, literally hollering at a girl when my intention was her friend.

The girl I was screaming at was, thankfully, rejected me all the way, while the one I really wanted was more than amused by my standing in the street yelling, “You can’t be serious! Have you not eyes to see how sexy I’m is?”

Pussy gotten.

The other was when I chanced pushing up on a work superior, at work and in front of everybody. She shot me down like she was a Tuskegee airman – for the crowd’s sake, I’d later discover.

She called me that night.

Pussy gotten.

So there’s an art to being curved.

The art’s in how you take it.

I caught the cutie from the court staring at me again, this time outside the court.

I just shook my head before another bad bitch with an even bigger ass from the same courtroom walked by.

And I was off again.

About the Author

Dickie Bhee is a self-styled lunatic, a Renaissance showman, a Class A, Grade A buffoon, a nigga that believes in the greatness of Niggerhood a social gadfly and a genuine Man About Town. Also: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01E7NYMP4

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