Why I'm not Carrie #17: I can't keep friends to save my life.

3:03 PM

How many of us have 'em? image credit: acclaimclipart.com
Folks still want to call me the Black Carrie Bradshaw, and I like it: Carrie was a household name in the early 2000s. She dated and eventually married a rich dude. Her shoe game was to die for. *straight face*

But one thing Carrie has mastered, which pushes me further away from her likeness, besides what I've mentioned above, is the ability to keep girlfriends around as I struggle through singlehood in the city.

And in Charlotte, it's all about being in a circle. *another straight face*

Take a recent event for example. I showed up at the Hilton in the heart of Uptown (or downtown...whatever) recently for Black Enterprise's shindig for entrepreneurs. (read: a gathering of wannabes, and a photo opp in front of a second-rate step repeat, brought in to makes folks feel good.) Apparently there were "friends" of mine in town for this but I didn't know until after the fact. Let's face it: Because I am not a part of an entourage, or don't have a book credit to my name yet, or haven't bought anyone's tickets for their events, shyt I don't see a need to be a part of, I got dissed, yo.

But it's cool, we weren't real friends and as of this morning we are no longer Facebook friends, either. Hello! Don't say you couldn't holler at me after we were released, or during the event when I got up twice to use the bathroom and warm up with tea, or before the event, which started 30 minutes late. Kneegrows!

Again, we ain't friends, but this behavior makes me antsy so I dunno how long we could have been friends. Other things annoy me, too:

Faking the funk. If you're a whore, be a whore. I'll still love you, and will smile as I say no thank you to sharing food or drinks with you. Just be a whore. Don't try to hide behind your children, your job or your boyfriend, who is an unhappily married man. Ooops.

Being okay, with being okay. Mediocrity is going to be the death of some folks. But they will just lay in a plain old black coffin with a partial smile while the typical Baptist church choir sings one of their usual funeral hymms. They all have a few tunes on standby. Yawn. Don't forget the eulogy where someone reads how much of a dedicated worker she was, at the bank. I say bank, because that's where basic chicks work making 30K or less. *waits for the comments*

Losing it. When the fun times end, I'm out. I don't care how old, married, busy you get. You need to make time for fun (ask any man).

Don't cry for me, Argentina: I do have people I laugh and cry with on a regular. They are known as la familiar. For now, I'll call them my friends.







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