A few words about “Black Ponies”
On Sunday, I went to a local hip-hop spot. Although I used to be a regular, I hadn’t been there in seven or eight months. Mostly because the commute from Detroit to downtown Ann Arbor can be brutal( especially when one is ‘ridin’ dirty’).
Well, last Sunday, my sistah-gurls and I decided to get bad as hell and go out(read “Fresh to Def” or DRESSED UP). A couple of the gurls were in from out-of-town and this venue was the only place we could see ourselves frequenting in our old age. Meaning…we didn’t want to hear the radio music or deal with the ignorance of a mainstream club.
So we go. The vibe is cool. The music is dope as always. Lots of old school hip hop, soul music…some house. We’re kickin’ it. Enjoying ourselves. And I make a startling observation.
Most of the men in the venue are young, educated black men. Attractive enough. The ones I know personally are pretty talented. Most of the women in the joint…are young white women. With the exception of a couple of other groups of sistahs ( and you KNOW what I mean by SISTAHS), the female population was mostly caucasion. And they seemed to be the girlfriends…or significant others of the various BROTHAS (and you KNOW what I mean by BROTHAS).
This observation in itself is not monumental. However, I was in the restroom, inside the stall handling my business (read: pissing out two glasses of Reisling), and two young…women came in…NOT SISTAHS, I might add. And I over heard a conversation.
“HEY Gurl….HOW ARE YOU?!!!” *insert hug here*
“I’m goooooood. How have you Been?”
“I’m good. I’m great. Soooooo..how’s your BLACK Pony?”
“My black pony?”
“Yeah…YOU KNOW! Your BLACK. PONY.!”
“OHHHH….(knowing laughter) he’s good”
At this point I come out of the bathroom. They slide me guilty looks as if to say “OH SHYT! we’re Caught!”
“You know girl, the pony with the black hair…and gray hair. YOU know” the silly, white bitch tries to clean it up. All that was missing was the wink-wink. And YES, at this point SHE’S A BITCH.
I was OUTRAGED. I was soooo pissed. My whole view of this venue changed. Once I exited the restroom, but not before mean muggin’ the hell out of BOTH the silly hoes, all I could see was all the Black Ponies and their young white girlfriends.
I couldn’t help thinking: DO these “BROTHAS” think that they are doin’ better than us? Does it bother these guys that some of the chicks see them as “Black Ponies”? And isn’t “BLACK PONY” just another name for breeding STUD? Disgusting.
I don’t really know how to think about the whole mess. I guess it doesn’t matter. Folks are gonna do who they want to do…screw who they wanna screw. And that’s their business. Who am I to be concerned with integrity, the race history in this country, or the state of black folks’ self-esteem?
Now, I’m not bashing inter-racial relationships. If there is a REAL connection. If there are REAL feelings involved. That’s fine. BUt BROTHAS, PLEASE, don’t go fuckin’ with BECKY just because her blond hair blows in the wind…or if other things “blow” …and YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN BY BLOW. Don’t believe for a minute that you are doing better than a sistah. Don’t believe for a minute that black women are “too complicated” or bring too much drama or have too many issues. Cause when it all boils down…Miss Becky may be making thing TOO simple…’Cause Miss Becky may only see you as a “BLACK PONY”.
Tell me what you think COOL WORLD.