You Are Funny

On Wednesday, September 25, 2013, I met a Nigerian mother of an eleven (11) years-old and a three (3) years-old children. I thought she was connected to the French-speaking Caribbean Basin. Her tongue is light. She possesses no facial marking. One wonders, How she escaped that horror and perhaps other mutilation of her body as are the cultural phenomena of most peoples of the so-called African continent? While I was trying to figure out her heritage she said to me," you are funny"  I took exception to that expression immediately. I told  her while I was in captivity on the plantation, where a number of my known  ancestors are interred,  I perhaps won't have given her statement a second thought.  However, such a phrase spoken in the USA has a different meaning than it does when spoken in the British West Indies during the days of my youth. Gay and funny are not acceptable words to describe a macho man. She gave me her digits. She told me to call her soonest. Commands seem all to ready out of her mouth. I pointed that out thrice to  her within a few hours on Wednesday afternoon...I rang her up at 5:41 PM on Friday, September 27,2013. And shortly after she recognized this caller, she immediately questioned, “What took you so long?”  This socializing thing is just not my thing... I  hate the personal questioning and straight jacketing - control - honey do-this - honey-do-that... I don’t like that one bit...I may just try to bond with her awhile...I don’t know I am just too set in my ways...I am not very conversant ...But if she into things I like I might just make the effort and control my thin skin...I trust none other than my shadow...It has been with me ever since I was born. My shadow has never disappointed me. Humans have...
Now at about 9:43 A.M., Friday, September 27,2013 I met a pregnant east Indian from southern Trinidad. She possesses a remarkable face and a rear-end one associate with African females. Her hair was jet black and close cropped. But still,  she was very pleasant to the eyes and mind. But, alas she too told me, " you are funny”. I replied whoa I am not funny I am a breastfed baby. I love breasts and thighs and butts. I am heterosexual...I have no doubts about that - and you should too...She said I didn't mean it that way. I determined you like females the minute you walk in the door and you saw my face. I recognized you recognized my ethnicity. And when you spoke you sounded not at all bothered by my ethnicity...Even when you recognized my state of motherhood you kept running your mother with warm compliments. You are an ole tease.
I simply wished I had inherited an overwhelming amount of charm and charisma which my father seemed to possess even at an advanced age - if not all of his life. There it is...