Xenia placed her ink pen behind her ear.
“I say it because we aren’t treating y’all right. I wasn’t raised to act the way some of my friends and male relatives act. They just dog out our women so bad. All I want to date is Black women – don’t get me wrong – but this man is providing a service as far as I’m concerned. Black women need more men that are husband material, and we can’t foot the bill all the time. It is what it is!”
“Dr. Aknaten, would you like to weigh in on Oz’s comments?”
“Yes,” Saint said, as he removed his lightweight jacket, exposing a tight black shirt that clung to his muscles. His Rolex shone under the reflection of the studio light, and his eyes glowed as he propelled himself slightly forward, resting his elbows on the table. Xenia took notice of his shirt, watching his slim but muscular frame contort. “Thank you Oz, for your honesty. I think if more Black men were honest about this situation, they’d see that it really isn’t just a preference or choice, but a necessity. This is about survival and enjoyment of life for the Black woman. She can’t keep sacrificing herself for the greater cause all the time. It’ll destroy her. She’ll be annihilated. Holding the world on her shoulders is no longer the appropriate action to take. It’s time for someone to place her on his shoulders instead, cater to her and take her to places, emotional depths, she never knew existed.”
Xenia looked over at Saint, shaking her head as she grimaced.
Saint held his right hand up to Xenia, spreading his middle and ring fingers apart in Star Trek formation then flicked his tongue in between them.
Xenia ’s eyes bucked in shock. Saint looked at her and leaned far back in his chair, laughing so hard that his eyes watered.
“Uh, Dr. Aknaten, thank you so much for coming in today. That’s our time, Ladies and Gentlemen,” Xenia said, flustered. “Until next time, keep it crunk, and as I always say, have a Xenia-filled day.” Xenia cut off the broadcast as her producer started to spin music as the next show was scheduled to start.
“Thank you for your time, Dr. Aknaten. I’m glad we didn’t get into any arguments this time around. I suppose you’re still going to force me to go out with you tonight.” Xenia looked at her computer.
“I’m not forcing you to do anything,” Saint responded. “I offered my time with you this morning in exchange for your time with me this evening. Didn’t we already cover this? I keep a pretty hectic schedule right now, but I made it work. We traded something we both wanted. Now, if you’re trying to renege, that shows me once again that you’re afraid of me when you have no reason to be.” He stood up and rubbed his hand through his hair.
Xenia laughed. “See, you’re starting shit again. You’re trying to provoke me,” she smiled.
“I’m not starting anything. I’m just stating the facts,” Saint clarified.
“You’re one of those people who call others player haters when they have genuine complaints about you. I’m not afraid of you! What’s there to be afraid of? I mean, seriously?” Xenia laughed in annoyance.
“You’re afraid that if you go out with me, you may actually like me and have a good time. That would mean all of your Black power, Black love, and Black world would come into question. Your wall of falsehoods would come tumbling down. We both know it’s true. You use that as part of your platform. If you enjoy the romantic company of a non-Black man, a non-brotha, that would make you a sell-out. I don’t think you hate me at all, Ms. Donnellson. You protest entirely too much for it to be hatred. Matter of fact, I think this is a hunt-and-chase situation. You want me to chase you like a dog chases a pussy…cat. I think you know what this is about, and you know I’m right. I’ve been hunting for a long-ass time. I’m a pro at this shit. I just finally ran into someone who’s worth chasing, and I’m
“I say it because we aren’t treating y’all right. I wasn’t raised to act the way some of my friends and male relatives act. They just dog out our women so bad. All I want to date is Black women – don’t get me wrong – but this man is providing a service as far as I’m concerned. Black women need more men that are husband material, and we can’t foot the bill all the time. It is what it is!”
“Dr. Aknaten, would you like to weigh in on Oz’s comments?”
“Yes,” Saint said, as he removed his lightweight jacket, exposing a tight black shirt that clung to his muscles. His Rolex shone under the reflection of the studio light, and his eyes glowed as he propelled himself slightly forward, resting his elbows on the table. Xenia took notice of his shirt, watching his slim but muscular frame contort. “Thank you Oz, for your honesty. I think if more Black men were honest about this situation, they’d see that it really isn’t just a preference or choice, but a necessity. This is about survival and enjoyment of life for the Black woman. She can’t keep sacrificing herself for the greater cause all the time. It’ll destroy her. She’ll be annihilated. Holding the world on her shoulders is no longer the appropriate action to take. It’s time for someone to place her on his shoulders instead, cater to her and take her to places, emotional depths, she never knew existed.”
Xenia looked over at Saint, shaking her head as she grimaced.
Saint held his right hand up to Xenia, spreading his middle and ring fingers apart in Star Trek formation then flicked his tongue in between them.
Xenia ’s eyes bucked in shock. Saint looked at her and leaned far back in his chair, laughing so hard that his eyes watered.
“Uh, Dr. Aknaten, thank you so much for coming in today. That’s our time, Ladies and Gentlemen,” Xenia said, flustered. “Until next time, keep it crunk, and as I always say, have a Xenia-filled day.” Xenia cut off the broadcast as her producer started to spin music as the next show was scheduled to start.
“Thank you for your time, Dr. Aknaten. I’m glad we didn’t get into any arguments this time around. I suppose you’re still going to force me to go out with you tonight.” Xenia looked at her computer.
“I’m not forcing you to do anything,” Saint responded. “I offered my time with you this morning in exchange for your time with me this evening. Didn’t we already cover this? I keep a pretty hectic schedule right now, but I made it work. We traded something we both wanted. Now, if you’re trying to renege, that shows me once again that you’re afraid of me when you have no reason to be.” He stood up and rubbed his hand through his hair.
Xenia laughed. “See, you’re starting shit again. You’re trying to provoke me,” she smiled.
“I’m not starting anything. I’m just stating the facts,” Saint clarified.
“You’re one of those people who call others player haters when they have genuine complaints about you. I’m not afraid of you! What’s there to be afraid of? I mean, seriously?” Xenia laughed in annoyance.
“You’re afraid that if you go out with me, you may actually like me and have a good time. That would mean all of your Black power, Black love, and Black world would come into question. Your wall of falsehoods would come tumbling down. We both know it’s true. You use that as part of your platform. If you enjoy the romantic company of a non-Black man, a non-brotha, that would make you a sell-out. I don’t think you hate me at all, Ms. Donnellson. You protest entirely too much for it to be hatred. Matter of fact, I think this is a hunt-and-chase situation. You want me to chase you like a dog chases a pussy…cat. I think you know what this is about, and you know I’m right. I’ve been hunting for a long-ass time. I’m a pro at this shit. I just finally ran into someone who’s worth chasing, and I’m
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