Never Satisfied: Do Men Know What They Want? (33 page)

And it is this issue of change that is at the heart of many failed relationships. The woman is looking forward to it, while the man is fighting against it. “I’ll be your husband or boyfriend,” the man thinks, “but my lifestyle isn’t going to change.” Meanwhile, the infatuated woman is presuming, “Once we get together, everything will change.” For whatever reason women are under the impression that just because a man says, “I do,” that all of his desires to be with other women will magically disappear. How ridiculous! The man who cheats before getting married will cheat afterwards. It’s that simple. And all of the good conversation, good cooking, and good pussy in the world isn’t going to stop them.

But don’t try to tell that to the hardheaded woman who’s blinded by love, or whipped, she is determined to solve every riddle, heal every wound, and right every wrong. She refuses to accept the fact that her man cannot or will not commit. Why is that? You ask. I believe it has a great deal to do with the woman’s instinctual need to nurture and pamper. Some women perceive infidelity as an emotional disease that can be remedied with a little patience and her overwhelming love. “He just hasn’t found the right woman,” she declares. However, the reality is that he has found the perfect woman, one who will stand idly by and keep her mouth shut while he does his business.

STARTING OVER!

L
ike a moth to the flame burned by the fire, 35-year-old Denise also fell in love with a cheating man who would inevitably violate her trust and break her heart. When she first met her boyfriend Kevin, the challenge of changing him seemed exciting. But as the years rolled by and his cheating persisted, the magnetic lights grew dim and the attraction faded. “My pampering and rehabilitation days are over,” she declares. “I need a real man who has made up his own mind to be faithful, not some immature jerk who needs to be watched over like a damned baby.” Clearly, she has had enough of the fixing broken men. With the support of her girlfriends, who were also fed up with the infidelity in their relationships, she finally woke up and put her foot down. Well, it’s about time!

Denise’s Story

S
ometimes I look in the mirror and ask myself, “Denise how could you have been so stupid?” For years I was in love with a man who seemed more like a spoiled child than a grown man. Instead of holding him responsible for his actions, I made excuses for everything he did wrong. When he came over with lipstick on his collar, I ignored it telling myself, “It’s nothing; don’t make a scene.” The time he accidentally called me by another woman’s name, I had a logical explanation, “That’s probably the name of one of his co-workers.” And when he couldn’t get it up in bed, I was right there with his defense. “He’s just tired from working overtime.” Boy was I right about that one.

My relationship with Kevin lasted three long and painful years. During which time he must have dumped me on at least six different occasions. He would conveniently start a fight over something stupid just to get away to spend the holiday or weekend with his whore. And just like a fool, I would be right there waiting when he was ready to patch things up. The last time this happened was about a year ago. I can’t even remember what it was about. When the argument was over, he was storming out of the door, swearing it was over between us for good. I didn’t know at the time, but he was right. However, this time it was going to be over on my terms.

There I was, on yet another Saturday afternoon, alone. As usual I was crying and totally pissed with Kevin for the one-millionth time. I decided to call my girlfriends April and Monica. If nothing else, I can curse his ass out and get an Amen, I thought. And God knows those were two women who would co-sign on anything negative to say about a no-good, two-timing dirty dog. April’s husband Tony worked for the post office, and Monica’s boyfriend Raymond was a police officer; both were fooling around on the side. And my boyfriend Kevin worked for the Transit Authority; talk about three whorish occupations. As I dialed April’s number, I tried to gain my composure, but the minute I heard her voice, the tears started pouring again.

“Hello?” April’s voice inquired.

“Hello, April, it’s me,” I sobbed.

“Denise is that you? What’s wrong girl? Don’t tell me, it’s Kevin again, isn’t it?”

“You know it. We just had another argument and he broke things off, again.”

“Well good riddance. You should be celebrating and not crying,” she said with an attitude, “Those damn Transit men are the biggest whores in town.”

“You’re right but look who’s talking,” I said trying to lighten things up. “You were crying on my shoulder like a baby last week when you found a condom in Tony’s wallet. I guess he’s been delivering more than the mail lately.”

“Awe, so now you want to crack on me, huh?” she said as we both laughed. “Hold on while I call Monica and put her on the three way.”

It never took long for me to snap out of my misery when I talked to my girls. We took turns cheering each other up when things got rough, sort of like a battered woman’s group. Lately, it seemed the support was needed more than ever. As I wiped my face with a towel, April clicked back over with Monica on the line.

“Hey baby girl, you all right?” Monica asked in a motherly tone.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I just need time to chill out.”

“Well good, now let me tell you about what Raymond tried to pull on me yesterday,” she said out of nowhere.

“Dag Monica, we haven’t even dealt with Denise’s problem yet, April said.

“No April, let her go on. Maybe listening to someone else’s drama will do me some good,” I said jokingly.

“Ok, check this out. You know Raymond was supposed to have a patrol assignment at The United Center for the Bulls game, right?”

“Right,” April and I said in unison.

“Well, I went by his house to drop off his birthday card because I couldn’t find the one I wanted soon enough to mail it on time. When I drove up, I saw him and another woman coming out the door. They were both in civilian clothes all hugged up.”

“You’ve got to be kidding girl,” April said sounding totally shocked.

“Wait, that’s not the good part. Can you believe he had the nerve to tell me she was his assigned partner, and they were working undercover?”

“They were working undercover all right,” I said. “Under the covers.”

“Then what happened?” April asked. “Did you maintain your ladylike composure?”

“Well of course I did. I politely threw the card in his face, called her a bitch and drove off.”

“It must be something in the water.” I laughed. “First April finds a condom in Tony’s wallet. Then Kevin dumps me for no reason; now you bust Raymond in the act. What a week.”

“Wait a minute April,” Monica interjected. “You went through Kevin’s wallet?”

“You damn right I did. It was lying right out in the open.”

“Out in the open?” Monica asked. Exactly what do you consider out in the open?”

“At the bottom of his dresser drawer, under some drawers.”

“Well baby, let me tell you. Once you start going through a man’s belongings, you’re already out of control and on your way to divorce court.”

“Whatever, Monica. All I know is he better get his act together, or my daughter and I will be flying the friendly skies without him.”

April is a 28-year-old flight attendant, and very attractive. I really couldn’t understand why Tony was cheating on her. Any man would kill to be in his shoes, and in his bed. Now, Monica was the mother hen of the group. She’s 37 years old, well educated with hips and a walk that could stop traffic. Again, I couldn’t understand why Raymond was tripin’. Monica was a class act who could pick and choose any man she wanted. But she loved Raymond’s dirty drawers and he probably knew it. As for me, I’ve been told I have it going on too. Although I may be slightly overweight, some men insist on having a woman with a little meat on her bones. Kevin just didn’t know how good he had it.

So why were we putting up with these three knuckleheads? You ask. The answer to that question was the topic of conversation at dinner that evening. We decided to treat ourselves to a nice meal, and then go out to the club to release some of our frustration, and burn off a few calories. April had to rush to find a babysitter; Monica was determined to get her hair done, and I wanted to go to Bally’s to work off some of my frustration.

It was 5:00 p.m. when we finally got off the phone. The plan was to meet at the restaurant downtown at 8:00 p.m., and I had every intention of being on time and dressed to kill.

The moment I returned from the gym, I pulled my sharpest outfit and four-inch pumps out of the closet. I was determined to squeeze my wide ass into that tight dress, with Crisco if necessary. Fortunately for me, twenty minutes on the Stairmaster and thirty minutes in the sauna did the trick. After taking my shower and oiling down my body, I slid into that dress with no problem at all. Next I put on my makeup and painted my nails. As I looked in the mirror at the finished product, I saw a confident, voluptuous, full figured woman who had been deprived of a good man and good lovin’ for way too long. Not once in three years had Kevin ever taken me out to a nice restaurant and then dancing. It’s like he was ashamed of being seen in public with me. “But that’s all right though,” I proudly said to myself. “Never ask a boy to do a man-sized job.”

It was 7:30 p.m. before I stopped admiring myself and decided to leave. Once in my car, I turned the rear view mirror towards myself and confessed, “April and Monica may only be going out to unwind, but I’m on the hunt tonight.” And what a night it turned out to be.

To my surprise April and Monica were waiting at the bar when I arrived at the restaurant. They were sitting with their backs towards me surrounded by men, so I couldn’t see what they were wearing. “Please God, don’t let them be dressed too conservatively,” I thought. What a waste of a prayer that was. When they stood up from their stools and turned around to greet me, I damn near fell out. April’s fast behind had on lace stockings and a strapless mini dress that barely covered her ass. Tony would have killed her if he saw her in that outfit. Monica was sharp as usual. Her 5’10” frame made her look like a fashion model. She was wearing a hot pink halter dress with a push up bra underneath that made her 32 B’s look like 36 D’s.

Needless to say, we didn’t pay for any drinks that evening. As a matter of fact, we didn’t pay for dinner either. When the waitress came over to take our order, she told us it was on the house. The manager, who was fresh on Monica, flipped the bill. All he wanted in return was a minute of her time before dinner and her phone number. I was ready to give it to him myself. Since he was a little cute and we were a lot broke, she went along with his request. But the second the food arrived, she cut him off with quickness and came over to eat.

“Well that’s that,” she nonchalantly said. “Dig in girls, it’s on me.”

“You are cold-blooded, Monica,” April said. “You have no intention of calling him do you?”

“Of course not. Hey, I didn’t ask him to spend his money. I can’t help it if men like to show off with their wallets. And beside, they throw out tons of food every night anyway. He’s just trying to impress me, but I’m not easily impressed.”

Monica always had deep words of wisdom, except when it came to explaining why she was putting up with Raymond. I had always been curious as to why women as beautiful as they were put up with men who treat them so badly. No doubt, they were probably wondering the same about me. It didn’t take long before all the free drinks began to loosen our inhibitions and our tongues, especially mine.