Column XVII: The Nature of The Game
We all crave human connection, compassion, and companionship. Naturally, like all living things, we must work together to build life and continue the larger circle of life. However, we put most of emphasis on obtaining a romantic relationship. Why are we only focused on obtaining romance and not attempting to that love in ourselves and our chosen community?
I have been seeing Rocki for about 2 weeks now, nothing serious, just the beginning of a fling that can backfire any moment.
For a doll, we are continuously wondering when the boy we are talking to will block us or decide they want to experience a new or even decide that we are not girl enough for their romantic pursuits. The question becomes, why are we always seeking instead of simply being?
My biggest concern at this time….will Rocki go the distance? Or will he dispose of me somehow? Just how David tossed Cleo once he got off. Could that bitterness, of betrayal from a man, cause me to become miserably bitter like Cleo.
It’s a Thursday Night at this three bedroom apartment on Seneca Avenue , facing the hot sun and buzzing of the city summer streets. There’s a portrait of the Beatle looking out of place next to a vinyl of the Jackson 5 then TLC.
“She is mad at me about a boy that I don’t care about nor do I know, she doesn’t even care about him, like what the fuck.”
“Hey, that's the nature of the game. Especially when you are constantly chasing attention.” Rocki refilled my glass of Chardonnay over the glass coffee table while I laid out flat on his velvet couch. He continued, “I’m sure Cleo will get over…David not gonna change until he is 40….he said this himself. He is one of my best friends but he is just like most boys in our 20’s, shit even 30’s, just trash…actually…even beyond 30…maybe I’m not helping actually.” He flopped down next to me, rubbing my freshly painted cream toes.
“I just find it all so sad that she is mad at me. She called me a man and now she still hasn’t reached out to apologize after a week. She is such a fucking loser whore.”
“Okay love, she probably has a lot going on and might’ve been triggered..making her lash out.”
“TRIGGERED!? But Rocki, I would never say the shit she said to me, no matter how angry I am, fuck that!” I jumped to my feet, keeping the wine glass perfectly in my grip, “I would never accuse my friend of taking a man from me because a man doesn’t mean shit to me like my girlfriends. Everything is just so fucking silly and complicated since the summer started.”
Rocki unzipped his gray Ralph Lauren hoodie before he began to roll, as I paced around the table under a leopard fur rug.
“Look she was wrong but y’all are friends and girls so communicating goes so easy for y’all,” he licked the sticky part of the rolling paper, “so just talk to her.”
“What do you mean talking comes easy for us,” I questioned him, staring him down from an angle.
“It’s just is what it is,” he responded, tugging at legs and placing me on his lap, “you know girls talk better, feel better, see better, understand better than any boy ever will,” he sparked up the joint, “I’ve had so many talks with Daivd or my other friends about their trash behavior…They don’t care and they are boys. And we have to be all tough, strong, and players to get anywhere in this world.” t.
He finished his statement with an inhale of the joint, passing it to me. I took a hit, watching the amber tip glow in the dim light of his living room.
It was the classic male saying: boys will be boys.
Men build a funny brotherhood around mutual silence. They watch each other treat women like disposable bags, call it 'trash behavior' over beers, and then pass the next girl without ever holding each other accountable. They enable the culture that turns dolls into rivals. David gets to move through NYC completely free while sleeping with all the dolls on the east coast, while Cleo and I are left picking up the broken glass of a cocky freak.