Volcano at the waterfront
Was thinking of writing something about bad purchases, but that one is 'outa' my realm.
So instead, let me tell you about the soap opera episode to which I had a live studio audience, front-row seat recently. There I was, chilling at my spot by the waterfront, taking in the tranquillity of the surroundings. And the fact that the afternoon sun was spending most of its time behind the clouds made things even better. Aah, peaceful and relaxing. So you know two idiots had to spoil it.
A man and his baby mama decided to have some somewhat serious drama, right there in front of me and other sea watchers and passers-by. I did see the fellow take a seat and call somebody, asking about their whereabouts (sue me, I'm observant). About 10 minutes later, here comes a woman, covered head to toe like how the bleachers do it (sweater, socks with slippers, the whole deal). At first, I didn't notice there was trouble in paradise. But little by little, the volume of her voice started to increase like bad debt, and before you know it, a full-fledged 'tracing' was in motion.
"So how yuh can gi yuh woman money fi buy hair, but yuh can't gi me $3,000 fi yuh own dawta?" came the incredulous question. That, of course, got heads turning. It got worse for the alleged deadbeat dad.
"Yuh own pickney mus look like old clothes?" she asked anew. There was an answer, but this bloke is apparently the more quiet type. His response, however, didn't stop the volcano.
"Mi nuh business if yuh want have two woman," she assured. "But mi have all right fi come a yuh yaad fi money fi di child." By this time, the bewildered bloke was barely getting any words in, not that it would have mattered.
"Yuh deh wid a woman who caan even tek care a harself," she chastised. That line of reasoning, plus repeated usage of the f-word (rhymes with duck), was too much for baby daddy. The fallen fellow put his feet to good use and started walking, only to be followed by Madam Miserable. God knows how that ended, wouldn't trade places with him for a second.
Keeping more than one
Of course, this whole thing is his fault. Yes, both women, by all indications, gave of themselves freely. But a nuh every lady wink har eye yuh must step towards dem. You don't do the multiple woman thing unless you can (a) afford it, (b) are the smoothest talker since Casanova, or (c) man enough to face the consequences when one or more of those women goes off like that day on the waterfront. I guarantee you most Jamaican males playing 'multiple man' don't have any, much less all of the three.
So guys, do yourselves a favour. Whether you're a one-burner or have gyal inna bungle, handle your business at home so an irate lady doesn't tell everybody in the street. Lata.
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