I look awesome today.
I just do. I can say this because sometimes I don’t give my all. There are no hot guys here, nuff said.
I did it on purpose. I wore my favorite gold sweater with a chunky gold necklace, green slacks and my patent black boots with gold trim around the heel.
I wore bright red lipstick, and wore my fancy ponytail hair twisted into a loose, elegant bun.
After working out, and taking my shower, this thought came to me:
“I want to stunt on these hoes today.”
Now, there weren’t any particular hoes I wanted to stunt on, it was just a phrase.
But I then thought to myself, why do I want to stunt on hoes? I mean don’t they have it bad enough as it is?
You aren’t really challenging yourself, if you’re trying to stunt on hoes.
Like, you are not to be played with EVER if you find yourself in a room with Oprah or Michelle Obama or Beyonce and you somehow manage to successfully stunt on them. Good luck with that.
Hmmm. See where my mind goes? Anyway, I decided to stunt on the general population today.
And it was a good thing. For some reason, I had to defend my department today and speak to folks sternly in meetings, and I’m glad whilst I was reading folks the riot act and getting my point across, I at least gave them something to look at.
And I guess it came in handy when I was summoned to lead a rousing rendition of “Happy Birthday” to a co-worker.
I heard my name. I thought folks just wanted me to stop working and have cake.
I oblige. Then there are about 14 sets of eyes staring at me.
“Well, we heard you can sing.”
“Start us off, so-and-so (the other person who can sing) isn’t here.”
Me looking at the crowd and the waiting birthday person: “This is embarrassing.”
Now, I realize that the Super Bowl was chalk-full of talented, black women singing all up and through, but really?
Yall want me to sing?
Ain’t nobody got time for that.
Crowd quietly looking at me. Cake candles burning…
“Oh, so yall really want me to sing? This is embarrassing.”
Crowd still looking.
Me: “Uh, alright. Everybody now.. Happpppy Birttthday, to you…”
So look fly.
You never know when you have to return your bosses’ frantic, misdirected crunkness with style, or lead the office birthday song. But when you do, no one can dispute, you looked good as hell doing it.