The Rants of a Gold Digger

Dear readers, I live in New York City, and I often ride public transportation. During my 30-minute commute to work, I am privy to people’s conversations. Below is the rantings of a young woman who some people might label a Gold Digger. Why? Because she dates and has relationships with wealthy older men. On this day she was with, a friend, this is what I heard.

 

I use to be a pro at this game of pretense. I do not know what’s gotten into me. It must be time for me to throw in the towel, surrender and retire. I use to have the best pick of men. Handsome, tight bodies, well-educated, and classy. Those men are few and far apart, now all that is left is old saggy toothless, balding, horny men trying to relive their youth. Currently, the old geezer that I am with I feel nothing but bitterness, anger and regret. I am trying to convince myself to stay, he old, boring and clumpy, but Mr. $$$$$$$$$$$$ bags is loaded. I detest when he looks at me smiling with his saggy, jaundice eyes. When I look at him, I feel the rage of contempt soaring through my blood. I had hoped in my last days to be rewarded with an Adonis, instead, I have been handed an old broken, cranky, smothering, needy, clingy stooped old grumpy senior citizen; trying to pretend that he still has it, whatever it is. When I am laying next to him, it feels like I am resting next to a nasty, slimy, fishy, whale. Maybe if he cut that enormous flab from around his waist, I might feel different. When his large, sloppy, wet, ashy, lips touch my skin, I disappear in my head and go to a faraway place. I cringe at the thought of those big clumpy hands touching me; having to listen to his voice that is piecing loud, thunderous, and lacks class. I remember one night when he bumped my leg with one of his long Frankenstein feet; he scratched my silky-smooth skin with one of his toenails that resembles a claw. Oh, Well, at least I got a diamond for my pain and suffering. I took a quick peek; I have to say that it was a big diamond. By the way, this women who was ranting about being with MR. Old Saggy money bags, she was dressed to the nines, designer labels from head to toe. However, I was curious why she was riding the train? Oh well. I had to get off so I did hear the end of her tale.

 

What say you?

Gold Diggers

Dear readers,

” There is gold in them hills”

The phrase “Gold digger” used to refer to a time in history, when people rushed from all corners of the earth, to the hills of California with the hopes of discovering gold.

Nowadays, ” Gold digger” is aimed at women, mostly black women, who  go in search of men, who have acquired wealth, to either use as a “sugar daddy” or to trap these men into marriage. And in the case of divorce these “Gold diggers” can continue to live in the life style they have become accustomed.

Question? Why should women be ashamed or be shamed by public opinion because they desire to have a man who is able and willing  to support her in the manner that she desires.

Confession… I wished I’d paid attention when it came to financial security, when I said, ” I Do” to my ex-husband, who left me in $20.000.00 debt I worked two jobs to pay off. I made the decision to listen to my heart, while he went for my pockets. Next time around, I’m keeping my pockets closed, my financial business to myself, and  my eyes and ears open.  Lesson learned “Gold diggers” don’t only come in the form of a women.

What Say You?

William F. B. O’Reilly Supports ‘Baltimore Mom’s Actions’

In response to Wiiliam F.B. O’Reilly’s April 30, 2015 column, ‘Baltimore Mom’, published in AMNewYork, tells a distressing story. I can honestly say that I am taken aback by Mr. O’Reilly’s opinion and observation of the actions of Florence Thompson, the mother who was trying to, in Mr. O’Reillys words, “forcefully herd her teenage son from the riots in Baltimore.”

It’s been the practice of society to look down on single mothers, like Ms. Thompson, who are unfairly judged and labeled ‘Welfare Queens’ and ‘Gold Diggers’ or ‘Losers.’ After reading Mr. O’Reillys comments of compassion and support for single mothers, I breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, someone in this harsh and unsympathic world sees single mothers for who they are, which is overburdened, overlooked, underpaid and underappreciated. Mothers like Ms. Thompson fight against stereotypes heaped on them by a society that would prefer to forget single mothers simply because those who sit in judgment feel that they are not productive members of society.

It’s my hope that Ms. Thompson’s action will be remembered and understood for what it is, a mothers love. On behalf of all those single mothers crying out in the wilderness, I say, keep crying and holding on someone will hear you because it certainly seems that Mr. O’Reilly did.