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Sir? May I Lend You My Balls?

About 2 weeks ago, Chris Brown was scheduled to have a concert in the UK and was denied a visa entry into the country. He immediately got on Twitter and lamented over his professional woes by saying no one would give him a second chance, blah blah. He blamed his tanking career on radio stations refusing to play his music and his fans for not buying his records. Then he ended his Twitter bitch tirade on June 7th by saying “think ima go away!!!”

A’ight.

Go.

I was never a Chris Brown fan in the first place, and even less so after he beat Rhianna to a pulp. What? Because she said some hurtful things to him? Because she threw his keys out the car window? Whatever dude. Grow some balls and learn how to trash talk back when a girl is ragging on you. Or better yet, let me lend you my gonads, seeing as mine are hairier and heavier than most young men’s lurking in our society today. You get no sympathy from me because your career is in ruins and you couldn’t finish up “Man in the Mirror” at the BET awards. That’s right. Take a good long hard look at the man in the mirror and return to the music scene when that boy staring back actually becomes a man.

What has got my knickers in a knot? As usual, I am SO glad you asked.

I have spent the last month or so ferrying my daughter’s daycare teacher to and from work, as she has no car. As is to be expected, two Black women have plenty to chatter about during the morning rush hour. The other day, she recounted a story so vile, I was ready to head out and ram my car into the first thug I saw on the street. Here’s how the story went:

Girl. The other day I was walking with my son on Holcomb Bridge and saw this young couple arguing in the parking lot. The little girl couldn’t have been more than 16 or 17, and the dude was a little thug, y’know. Well, she was holding a baby, and as she opened her mouth to say something, this little punk punches her dead in her face with the baby in her arms.

“Say something else,” he said. “Say something else bitch, and I’ll f*ck you up like I did last night.”

The girl stood there sniffling and crying. Well, I didn’t have no cell phone, so I couldn’t call the police and I just had to keep walking. Like I said, I had my son with me.

Wait a minute. In a parking lot? At Taco Bell? In broad day light?? And NO ONE came to this girl’s defense? I was furious. Now, seeing as this had happened days before, these people were phantoms and there was no way I was going to be able to search out this low life myself. So when I got home, I went looking for the next best thing: Reassurance from my husband that if I ever witnessed such a thing, it was okay for me to hit the dude with my car.

“No,” he said. “You can’t do that.”

“But babe. This poor girl had a baby in her arms. What kind of a bitch n*gga hits a girl with a baby in her arms??”

He stared blankly at me.

“Ok. What if I came home and told you what I saw. Would you head over there and straighten that little punk out?”

He looked at me like it was a ridiculous question.

“No. And go to jail over some thug? Nuh uh. Our society is too quick to sue.”

“Ok. So what if it was one of our girls?” I asked.

“Well then that’s a different story. I’d lay him flat.”

“Ok. So what if he punched me?”

“Well then he’d be dead, and then I’d go to jail.”

“So what if this little girl has no father, no brothers, nobody at all to look out for her? And you’re there and can do something about it? Is she just supposed to take it on the chin??”

He sighed.

“Malaka. It’s one thing if I was there and saw the dude hitting her. It’s another for you to come home to tell me about it and then for me to head out there to hit the guy.”

“Well, it shouldn’t be.”

*********

About 2 years ago,  John Quiñones did a special on ABC concerning the very same topic. The segment was called “What would you do?” if you saw someone being bullied, discriminated against, etc.  In one scene, a couple was arguing in the park. The scores of  passers-by witnessing the scene seemed uncomfortable, but kept jogging/walking, not wanting to get involved. When the actors were instructed to escalate the intensity, the man grabbed the woman and started screaming in her face, presumably about to hit her. A middle aged White guy walked up to him, pulled him aside and said there was “a time and a place for everything” and that if he wanted to hit her to do so at home. Eventually, it was a woman that stepped in and asked the female actress if this man was bothering her and refused to leave her side, even as the man continued to spew  insults in a verbal rampage. The stranger threatened to call the cops, and that’s when the ABC team came out and revealed it was all fictional.

It took a woman to stop a man from beating up another woman in public.

So I’ll ask again: Are there any men who need me to lend them my balls? Because it takes a real pussy to beat up on a woman (if she hasn’t hit him first) and puss-cake to walk by and let it happen.