The Omagus' Big Black Book on White Women

I'm thinking of writing a book based on the interesting experiences that Hilary and I experience anytime we go pretty much anywhere. She suggests that I title it The Omagus' Big Black Book on White Women.

We went to the Nasher Sculpture Center and we were looking at a bunch of sculptures that were made by people who are obviously far more profound than I am. At one point we were reading a description of one of the art pieces and I put my hand against the wall so that I could lean in closer to read it better. A security guard came up to me and told me that I wasn't allowed to touch the wall. I apologized and removed my hand.

But then he pulled me aside and wanted to know if he could ask me something. I thought he would ask me a pretty normal question like, "Where did you get your hat?" or "Are you Jerry Rice?" but no. He wanted to know, "Where did you meet your lady?"

Ok, so he thought that we were a couple. Perfectly rational expectation. After all, we are two extraordinarily good looking people together at an art exhibit. I thought about explaining that we weren't actually dating but that would have taken too long. Then I thought about telling him how we actually had met, but that would also take too much time. So I just said, "We met at work." Then the guard says, "Where would you recommend me finding a good woman? I just moved here and I'm having trouble finding one. I've given up on the sistas."

Now, here's my thing. I have no problem with interracial relationships. As a matter of fact, I think they're awesome and for the most part I encourage them. If two people love one another, and if they're willing to really put in the work, I don't think that they should let differences in race or culture keep them apart. And if other people give them grief for doing so, they have my permission to tell those people to "Eff off!!!"

That being said, I absolutely cannot STAND when people try to make excuses for why they only date a certain race. If someone has a preference, I guess I can grudgingly accept that. However, to tell me that you've completely disregarded an entire race (especially your own) is beyond my realm of understanding. "I've given up on the sistas." What the HELL does that mean?

Maybe I'm being too hard on the guy. After all, I don't know his history. Maybe he's dated 100 black women and there was something seriously wrong with every single one of them. But I have to make two points. One, if he's dated 100 women and there's something wrong with ALL of them, there's one common denominator and it ain't the women. It's you, bruh. Two, even if he has dated all these black women and found something wrong with all of them, that still isn't every single black woman that's in the available pool. Every black woman is a human being, meaning each one is a freaking individual. To lump them all in the same category because you've experienced trouble with a few is insulting. I wanted to ask him how he felt about his mother or his (biological) sisters; aunts, cousins, etc. Were they all worthless enough to be "given up on" as well?

And when Hilary and I have kids named Miles and Gemi this will be one of the first lessons I teach them.