Updated: Apr 29
The past few days my sleep patterns have been wack. Sure ‘wack’ is an outdated term, but I can't help that I've been inadvertently influenced by a book about an infamous pimp from Chicago in the 70’s. It’s an interesting read to say the least, if you can get past the grotesque treatment of women. I recommend playing Jazz to lighten the mood because some parts are pretty dark. Undoubtedly aware of this fact, Iceberg Slim even recommends a track if you’re stumped for choice. Slim’s book ‘Pimp’ has also been insightful in determining why nice guys always seem to finish last, I've concluded that the reason being is that only assholes know how to get under your skin. It’s human nature to want what we can’t have, which would also explain the sudden surge of DM's during quarantine. Which I'm sure most agree is the isolation equivalent of a 3am text from a former flame asking if "you up?"
David Attenborough's next documentary should capture human behaviour when restrictions are lifted. Undoubtedly debauchery will be used as a convenient excuse to unleash months of sexual frustration. I can only imagine the tension on the dance floor as the male attempts to infiltrate the intoxicated female pack. Generally the creepy dudes watch from a distance as it’s easier to wait for a drunken stray. Unfortunately nice guys don't get the same amount of airtime as creepy dudes because more often than not it's the negative memories that stick. Like the time a former senior colleague attempted to kiss me after a work event while I waited outside for a taxi. Undoubtedly embarrassed after being rejected he made a seamless transition into unprofessional asshole in the sobering light of day. While I never mentioned the incident a simple apology would have made it less awkward ya big dumb baby.
Michelle Wolf in her Netflix special, ‘Joke Show’ quite rightly referred to white women’s experience with sexism as a very “air conditioned oppression.” It's subtle, unlike a coked up party boy who approaches you at a party to declare, “If I didn’t have a girlfriend, I’d have you tonight” when you’re just trying to get to the cheeseboard. It's awkward to talk about because our experience is not that bad. We walk a fine line as the same cultural narratives that oppress us are also useful in getting out of a speeding ticket. The experience of which feels conflicted, much like reading the brutal recount of a pimp while listening to jazz.