On Lock - Dedicated to Miss PJ and Tommie Collins :-)

So how about a little levity on this Friday?! I have to warn you - there are swear words in this one so I hope I don't offend :-) As always, enjoy and let me hear from you!

Peace and the Kindest of Blessings - A.

On Lock

            Every now and again I brave the Generation Next nightlife with my daughter‑sister-niece (DSN) and her husband. I call her my DSN because we met when she came to work for me as an intern. Now she’s all grown up with a family of her own and a Master’s degree. We started out as mentee-mentor and have now become very close friends. However, she’s 20 years my junior which makes her too old to be my daughter (kinda) but I still feel like she’s my “baby.”

Hanging out with them is always an adventure. We have so much fun. I get to see what’s going on with the young folks in a world that reminds me that there are seasons in life and this season in my life is over. Nevertheless, pretending to be a young single every now and then gives this old single a voyeuristic thrill into the life of the footloose and fancy-free.

My son-brother-nephew (SBN) is somewhat of a celebrity in this world, having worked as a promoter on this scene for quite a while. This comes in handy as all I have to do is walk anywhere remotely near his shadow and my stock automatically rises. “Oh, are you with him?” the gatekeepers ask. When I say yes, the bouncers in black move to the side and let me in. The crowd at the door parts like the Red Sea and velvet ropes are magically unhooked as many pairs of eyes bore holes into my back with both envy and jealousy. “Who is she?” I feel them asking, as they continue to wait in line outside.

 So in we go and I soon realize that while my hanging out season is over, things haven’t changed all that much. Just like dances in high school, the boys are on one side of the room trying to look cool (some even practicing synchronized moves like Guy in New Jack City) while the girls are huddled together giggling.

Of course, I am immediately reminded of how much things have changed as most of the girls are wearing outfits that maybe have a yard and a half of fabric (and that’s being generous) which gives me an unpleasant eyeful when the wallflower steppers do finally ask them to dance. She is bent over, hands touching the floor doing a hamstring stretch talking on the phone while her ass is smashed up against his pelvis.

Whatever happened to The Bump? The Hustle? The Cabbage Patch? The Smurf? The Prep? The Running Man? OK, OK, I will bring it to the 20^th century – The Electric Slide?

            Oh well, that’s hanging out in the new millennium – soft porn as an introduction to a potential suitor. I want to warn them both, however, that if they do manage to actually talk and exchange phone numbers (which these days means whipping out your cell phone and “locking them in”), I hope their phones have a camera and they take a picture of one another. After all, it is very dark in the Club and since she was looking at the floor and he was looking at the crack of her ass, I don’t know how they would recognize each other face-to-face in daylight.

Back to my VIP status…

So now I’m gliding along on my SBN’s coattails while all the brothers are glad-handing him and all the sisters are cutting through my DSN with dagger eyes.

There’s no doubt about it – my SBN is The Man.

Even the resident DJ / Hype Man walking through the crowd with a cordless mike yelling at all of us to get our motherfuckin’ asses on the dance floor (I think this is supposed to be a motivator) walks up to my SBN and yells his name over the mike while hugging him like he just got back from Iraq.

Come to think of it, I notice a lot of guys asking him where he’s been and then looking at my DSN with nods, smiles, and winks.

It appears that my SBN is not as much of a regular as he used to be and you know that means my DSN has put him “on lock.”

Now unless a brother’s ego is firmly intact, dem’s fightin’ words. Or at least grounds for a lot of crotch grabbin’ while settin’ the record straight. Can’t you see and hear it? “Sheeet, I come and go as I please….”, or, “Don’t nobody dictate what I do, know what I’m sayin’…”

But my SBN does none of this, which lets me know that my DSN has indeed made the right decision in snapping him up and I will not have to get Cousin Lem from Soul Food to open up a can of whup-ass some unsuspecting evening for breaking my baby’s heart.

No, SBN simply notes that he’s been there, done that and then some and is sure he’s not missing a thing. As a matter of fact, he does a bit of noddin’ and winkin’ himself, with a grin that says, “If you only knew…”

Trust me, in today’s world, being “on lock” may be your best bet. Yup, the more things change, the more they do stay the same. No man worth his salt wants a half-naked girl for the long haul. And the Club World does not encourage meeting and really getting to know someone, nor is it the place for anyone trying to maintain a committed love relationship – remember Miss Missy on all fours.

No, being a regular at the Club for any length of time gets old and shallow. Hopefully, we grow up, get a life, and make way for the next generation which, unfortunately, will include my daughter soon enough.

My daughter-sister-niece may have my son-brother-nephew “on lock,” as his boys say, but neither of them seems to mind at all.