Kickin’ it With My Homies – The Foolishness Chronicles, Part 4

So yeah, no. Not this hawk. Image via

So yeah, no. Not this hawk.
Image via

“The Hawk.”

That was my homie last week.

For those of you who don’t know, defines “The Hawk” as “What black people call the wind — especially in Chicago.”

So here’s the scene. I was in Costco looking for some seltzer water. I stopped to get a sample of chips and salsa, and that’s where the conversation with an employee ensued. She began:

“Hi, how are you today?”

“I’m fine. And you?” (After this incident, you’d think I would’ve stopped asking that question but whatevs.)

“Well, I’m okay. I get off in a few hours.”

“Oh, good. I bet you’re glad.”

“I’ve been working here for three years and I’ve never dreaded getting off work more than I do today.”

“Really? Why?”

The Hawk. The Hawk is gon’ get me.”

“Oh. Okay. The Hawk? Okay. Is the seltzer water that way or…?”

“It’s so cold outside. I don’t want to leave. The Hawk is out there and he’s gon’ get me while I walk to the bus stop. Then he’s gon’ get me while I stand at the bus stop. Then while I’m on the bus because they don’t run the heat.”

“Oh, that’s terrible. Why don’t they run the heat?”

“I don’t know, but I told my son about The Hawk. He is a police officer in D.C. And technically I live in Maryland, so he isn’t supposed to do anything but he does.”

“About The Hawk? What does he do? What can he do?”

“He calls all around to the train stations and bus stations to make sure he finds me and that I get home before dark.”

“But it gets dark early now. It’s dark outside right now!”

“I have two sons. One is younger, but this one was born in December. He has a birthday coming up soon.”

“But what does that have to do with—”

“I need to figure out what I’m going to get him for his birthday. He is a good son. I also have a daughter.”

“Ma’am, where is the seltzer wa—”

“They just need to make sure I make it to the bus before it get’s dark and that they run the heat. Or else my son will come find them. But The Hawk don’t play.”

“Have a good evening, ma’am.”

I had to get outta there. I ran through “The Hawk” to the car. With some hard bread and some moisturizer. Never did find the seltzer water.

Until next time…

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I’m sitting here with a mouthful of butter

Today is the four year anniversary of Magnet for Foolishness…get excited! I thought my 100th post would coincide with this anniversary, but something I wrote elsewhere went quasi-viral (is that a thing?) so I decided to post it here, too, last week. That turned out to be my 100th post. Who knew? But now that I think about it, if you count the handful of bad posts I deleted from the site, this is probably number 104ish so whatevs.

I thought I’d challenge myself to a new activity. The result might not be anything terribly spectacular or even different from what you’re used to reading here, but is something that may help me grow as a writer. You know, become less verbose. Less garrulous. Less loquacious. I could go on and on, but that’s part of the problem. The challenge is to finish this post, soup to nuts, during the time it would take an egg to boil (that is usually about 7 minutes for me). I read about people doing this all the time and I am fascinated by folks who possess the ability to not be long-winded. So here goes…wish me luck! I gotta log off to go to work anyway.

(Ok, so I’m cheating a little because I found the picture before the time started and I also have to say, “Like” me on Facebook: and follow me on Twitter:!/foolishmagnet now so it doesn’t count against my time. I’m dropping the mic at 7 minutes so here goes…)

Artisan bread will murder your mouth. It is delicious, but still murderous. Image via

Artisan bread will murder your mouth. It is delicious, but still murderous.
Image via

I bought some cranberry walnut bread from Costco the other day that was really good but I feel guilty for buying it. I need fewer carbs in this house. It was one of those fancy, round, hard loaves of bread. I was probably supposed to keep it crusty, but I didn’t want to break my mouth so I nuked it for a few seconds. Then I put butter on it. Probably shouldn’t have but the lady in the store who was handing out samples did, so I did. But the butter didn’t melt for some reason. It never melted. So now I’m sitting here with a mouthful of butter. That was not the plan. If you do not want to contribute to my Grill fund (if you follow me on Facebook or Twitter you know what I’m talking about), please contribute to my lotion warmer fund. That would be so clutch right now! Friends don’t let friends use cold lotion. I LIVE for Movember. I wish every month could be Movember! But then I googled Movember to make sure I understood what it was and found it was only for mustaches! They explicitly say no beards and no goatees! WTH?! I’m so over Movember. I got a flu shot yesterday that went well until I passed the mirror and saw the bandage that reminded me I got a flu shot. Now the whole right side of my entire life hurts. I mean, my whole life is throbbing. I almost wonder if it would have been better to just get the flu? I’m glad I type fast. I like when people say the word “conundrum”…it makes me giggle. My remote control broke. It somehow de-programmed itself and is no longer compatible with my TV. And I honestly can’t figure out how to work the TV without the remote, so I think I just want to move to a new house. I’m taking next week off. I hope everybody has a Happy Thanksgi

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5 Reasons Why Single People Don’t Want Your Unsolicited Advice About Their Lives

Edited versions of this post were published on VerySmartBrothas 11/13/14 and BlogHer 11/14/14.

If this piece strikes a nerve, it probably should. You’re the “you” I’m talking to. (In other words, a hit dog will holler.) If it doesn’t strike a nerve, good! That means you are self-aware and considerate. But I guess you won’t know either way until you make it to the end, so…keep reading.

I’m sure you’ve read all the recent think pieces, seen the comedy bits full of memes and gifs and watched the recent celebrity interviews related to the topic of being single and/or childless. We singles and marrieds with no kids (or not enough kids for your taste) are tired of the questions about why we’re still single or still childless. We’re tired of the assumptions. We’re tired of the unsolicited “advice”. Because underlying all your questions and condescending comments disguised as concern is the assumption that we want your life. The assumption that you’re the standard by which we should measure ourselves. The assumption that we don’t have a plan for our own lives or disapproval of the plans we do have. Actually, let’s rewind. Let me not speak for anyone but myself. Let me explain to you why I’m tired of it.

1) You’re not being genuine; you’re being judgmental. There is a difference between making conversation and judging. There is a difference between questions like, “Are you single?” and “Why are you still single?” Questions like, “Are you dating?”… “Looking to date?”… “Interested in getting married?” in my mind can be fairly benign if not asked in rapid succession. And they are definitely different from, “What are you doing to put yourself out there more [since you’re not married]?” With this question, you’re being presumptive and accusatory. And rude. You’re insinuating that there must be something wrong with me. Why do I have to put myself “out there” more? Am I doing something wrong by choosing to live my life the way I choose to live it? I’m not doing anything to put myself out there more. Absolutely nothing. And that’s fine with me…why can’t it be fine with you? Can I live?!

2) You’re being pushy. Some people ignore clues. For example, if you’re asking questions and folks respond with one word answers, back off! “Are you dating anyone?” “No.” “Why not?” “Because.” “Because what?” You’re skatin’ on thin ice, slim. Stop being nosy! Maybe I just got out of a relationship and I’m still raw. Maybe I’m in a relationship but just don’t want to talk to you about it. Maybe I’m too busy for your inquisition and don’t have time to engage you. Also, and here’s the most likely circumstance, maybe it’s none of your business.


3) You’re assuming that because Person X is single, they’d automatically be interested in Person Y who is also single. The assumption that all single people want not to be single and are willing to be set up blindly with someone they haven’t screened is an incorrect assumption. True story: A friend once told me (not asked me, told me) she’d planned to hook me up with one of her husband’s friends, but opted not to because her husband wasn’t on board with the plan. He was concerned that if there was a break-up later, they would be caught in the middle. The problem with her plan is that she never considered whether those who were to be hooked up (particularly me) actually wanted to be hooked up. Don’t I get a say in the matter?

4) You’re assuming that there is something enviable about your own marriage or relationship…and to me, there isn’t. This is my opinion. And when it comes to me allowing others to play matchmaker for me, my opinion is the only one that matters. You may think you have a good marriage, but I’ve observed the relationship you have with your husband/wife…and maybe I don’t want that. I’ve also seen the relationship you have with your kids…don’t really want that either. If you’d be offended by my unsolicited thoughts on your marriage, relationship, or parenting skills, then put yourself in my shoes. If I didn’t come to you and ask you for assistance, take heed. You don’t have the credentials to hook me up.

too many critics with no credentials


5) You’re diminishing my overall worth when you place so much value on me being single. True story: I have a “friend” who reaches out about once a quarter to catch up. “How have you been doing?” he always asks. “Great! Life is really good,” I usually say. “Oh? So you found a man?” For real…this is how our conversation goes every time we talk. And one would deduce that the last conversation we had was about relationships. Nope. We mostly talk about our careers. Life is good because I’m happy, healthy, my family is doing well, I just got back from a great vacation, I’m excited about my new project at work, I just got certified to teach yoga/typing/underwater basket weaving/whatever, I successfully baked my first cake without burnt edges, I successfully gave myself my first relaxer without burnt edges, etc. But none of that matters to you. All you care about is whether or not I’ve “found” a man. I might need to stop taking your calls.

In conclusion, I don’t feel the need to live my life by your standards. You don’t know my financial situation. You don’t know my health situation. What if I have a plan and actual goals I want to achieve before I decide to get married or start a family? What if I can’t start a family?

having kids

Maybe I’m still childless because I like taking real vacations rather than just trips, because that’s what happens when you take kids. You’re not vacating your everyday life…you’re taking your life with you to a new location. Maybe I’m still childless because I’ve run the numbers and learned that I can retire a lot sooner if I don’t have kids. Maybe I’m still childless because I like to sleep until noon on Saturdays. Or maybe I’m still childless because I’m still single. And I’m still single because I’m not married…yet. And that’s it. Not always single, just single right now. Get a grip. And mind your business.


Until next time…

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My Cuffing Season Story

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, “cuffing season” is upon us once again. I know this topic is played out for many, but there are others who are just now learning about it. Stories about its meaning and origin have made the news a lot lately. No lie! They had a special segment with a “relationship expert” and everything on the D.C. morning news last week. Real talk. Did anybody see it? defines cuffing season as follows:

“During the Fall and Winter months people who would normally rather be single or promiscuous find themselves along with the rest of the world desiring to be “Cuffed” or tied down by a serious relationship. The cold weather and prolonged indoor activity causes singles to become lonely and desperate to be cuffed.”

This 'calendar' is from From 2011, but still very accurate (and funny) in 2014.

This ‘calendar’ is from From 2011, but still very accurate (and funny) in 2014.

So here is my story.

I’m used to the out-of-the-blue “Sup Lady?” or “What’s New?” texts or e-mails as soon as it gets cold. This year has been no different. I think cuffing season started a little later for the east coast this year because we’ve had a mild Fall. The first message came last week from someone I didn’t know who found me through a social networking site. It went a little something like this…


[Note: There was a four-day gap between the initial “Hey” and the follow-up “Hey” because I was waiting to see if there would be more, you know, meaningful engagement. There wasn’t.]


“How are you?”

“I’m great. And you?”

“I hope I’m not bothering you.”

“No, you’re not. Is there anything in particular I can help you with? Or are you just being friendly?”

“Well actually I just wanted to say “hello”. I hope I’m not bothering you.”

“Well “hello” back! And no, you’re not bothering me!”

“Ok. Thank you.”

“….” –> [I thought this was the end but it turned out to be another two-day gap.]

“Well honestly I saw on your profile that you work at the DMV and I wanted to talk to you about getting a license. I’m here on a Visa (B1 and B2) and nobody else has answers to my questions.”

“Ok. So. I don’t actually work at the DMV, I work and live in the DMV. DMV = D.C., Maryland, and Virginia. Not Department of Motor Vehicles.”

“Oh ok. I did not know that. I am new to this area.”

“No problem. Now that you’re here, you’ll hear that term a lot. Good luck to you!”

“Thank you. I’m really sorry that I bothered you.”

Ok. So yeah, no. Not a cuffing season story at all, actually.

Until next time…

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Kickin’ it With My Homies – The Foolishness Chronicles, Part 3

This time Jesus was my homie. Well…he’s always my homie. But allow me to explain.

It is NOT always as easy as 1-2-3… Picture from

It is NOT always as easy as 1-2-3…
Picture from

Last week while I was at church, I dropped my communion. Not the whole thing, just the cracker (i.e. the body). I was trying to open the package and pulled the plastic too hard. It seemed as if the cracker went flying across the room in slow mo, but in reality it was probably a quick tumble to the floor. It just felt like an eternity. I fumbled and tried to catch it without wasting the grape juice (i.e. the blood) on me or anyone around me. After it hit the ground, I even thought, “FIVE SECOND RULE! FIVE SECOND RULE!” I picked it up and inspected it but, of course, couldn’t bring myself to eat it. It was awkward. I didn’t know what to do. I tried to make eye contact with a couple of the ushers and even tried to wave them down a few times, but none of them were paying attention to me. The window for me to get a replacement closed.

I couldn’t help but think the Lord was trying to exact revenge on me from when I may or may not have grabbed three communions a few months back.  I mean, I reached in to grab one and my hand may have accidentally grabbed more than one. I may or may not have shared with my neighbor. But that’s neither here nor there. Besides, the Lord is not in the business of “exacting revenge”. But I did wonder for a minute…

I panicked. Then pouted. Then prayed. Then partook. In the blood, but not the body.

Have you been in this situation before? What did you do? WWJD?

Until next time…

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Kickin’ it With My Homies – The Foolishness Chronicles, Part 2

I am walking down the street one day, minding my own business as I usually do. I notice a pie company that has opened a store front and I’m intrigued…I’d previously only known this company to operate food trucks. Anyway, though I’m not in the mood for pie at the moment, I stop in to grab a menu for future reference.

The person on staff is very engaging….a bit too engaging. My friend and I try to ask questions but he pretty much takes over the conversation. As we ask about business hours and pie offerings, dude proceeds to tell us that he is a “groom-zilla” and that he will temporarily release the other two men in the shop for an hour long break. But they are to hurry back; wedding planning can’t wait. Not sure why we need to know this, but whatevs.

Once these poor men escape, he goes on to tell us about how his father is a veteran, an ex-con, and a racist. At this point it is official. Dude is cray.

We try to redirect the conversation to pie but he goes on and on about how awful his family is. He can’t understand why his father has so much hate…and self-hate at that. What the heck…he put the bait out there, we may as well bite. The following conversation between dude and my friend ensues:

“It’s crazy because we’re 1/3 Japanese. So I don’t understand why he could have an issue with any race since we’re mixed with so many things.”

“But how can you be 1/3 Japanese, though? I mean, you only have two parents. So wouldn’t you have to be 1/2 or 1/4 or 1/8…?”

“Because I’m part Japanese. But only 1/3.”

“Yeah, you said that before. But how can someone be 1/3 of something? Do you mean you’re 3rd generation or…?”

“No, I meant I’m only 1/3. Like we have Japanese mixed in our family. Along with Black and Island and other stuff.”

“But how can you be precisely 1/3 of anything though?”

“Because my grandma and all dem are part Japanese. And my grandma is SUUPPPER lazy! She never helps me cook Thanksgiving dinner. She just sits around and watches TV. Which is all she ever really does whether it’s a holiday or not. She just complains and barks orders while I do all the work.”

My friend grabs me and drags me out of the pie shop. And to think…I just wanted a menu. This is what I felt like after I left the shop.

NOT my picture. Found via Google images from

NOT my picture. Found via Google images from

Until next time…

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Kickin’ it With My Homies – The Foolishness Chronicles, Part 1

Silly me. I sat down to write a post chronicling some of the foolishness I’ve experienced while hanging out with friends. I thought I was going to be able to write one post about all the foolishness. That didn’t work. The post was never-ending! So I’ll give you one story at a time.

I was at a park. Looking at a statue. Trying to figure out the point of the statue. If there was something obvious I was missing. Something deep I didn’t get. I was about to give up on figuring it out.

Then suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a plaque. A plaque that named the sculptor (sculptors make statues, right? Or is there another name for a statue-maker?) and that I thought was going to explain the meaning of this statue.

I called my friend over to look at the plaque with me. As we’re reading it silently, contemplating the meaning of life, out of nowhere comes a man. An unassuming man. A weird man.

A conversation between the man and my friend ensues.

“How are you ladies doing today?”

“Fine, thanks.”

“Good. Good. Well…I was just wondering….do you know Jesus?”

“Yup. We know him. Thanks.”

“Okay. I just wanted to make sure y’all were saved.”

“Yup. We’re good. Thanks.”

“Okay, good. I just wanted to make sure y’all didn’t go to Hell.”

“You know what? I think we’re good, sir. But thanks.”



“Okay. Wanna go out to eat sometime?”

“No, I don’t. I’m good.”

“Aw, okay.”

We promptly left that park. Still don’t know what that statue was all about.


Until next time…


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