I have just discovered that I am a member of the League of Unextraordinary Women. I must say that it comes as a great shock because I had always rather thought I was an extraordinary woman, but apparently I was deluding myself.
I like to read through random blogs in the morning, and I was reading a girlfriend’s blog today on Unextraordinary Gentlemen (if they can even be described as such). It was just a simple list of useless men that can be found in the DC metro area. Having met several of these types of men, I found the article to be quite hilarious. As I was going through the comments, I came across someone else’s blog. This man, a Mr. Slim Jackson, had written about unextraordinary women. This is classic battle of the sexes, a game I almost never become involved. I see it as a complete waste of energy to even contemplate our widening difference because we’ll never see eye to eye. Indeed, we’ve been clashing since Adam and Eve. Eve, the nosy little tart, ruined everything by succumbing to the Serpent’s lies, but Adam, this unsuspecting, dimwitted moron, also fell into the trap. Whose fault is it? Who even knows? Who even cares?
So, these Unextraordinary Women are the Unhollerable Heffa, the Do Her Do Gooder, the Crippling Criticizer aka The Judge, the Prodigal Promiscuist, the Pseudo Celeb, the Leech Lady and the Gumby Gal AKA the Hypocritical Heffa. All of these women have rather disagreeable qualities including promiscuity, hater-ism, gold-diggerishness and hypercriticism, just to name a few. For the most part I quite agree with the man who wrote it. These women are the very scourge of society and make decent women the target of some poor abused man’s ire when he cannot decipher the difference between these Unextraordinary Women and a Phenomenal Woman.
I am the Unhollerable Heffa, I learned. According to the description:
“This woman lurks in the streets of NYC and other major urban areas throughout the United States. You may find her in Chicago, Boston, Los Angeles, Miami, and the list goes on. She’s also commonly found at colleges and universities as well as night clubs. She is the chick that always assumes everyone is tryin’ to holler at her and mean mugs her way through life in an effort to ward off those who could honestly give 2 sh*ts about her existence. Her appearance is usually smedium at best. This pseudo-villain often misconstrues friendliness with holler attempts. Her obvious weapon is her face, which also happens to be her tragic flaw.” -Slim Jackson
I do not understand what is wrong with this type of woman. I purposely walk the streets with an unfriendly expression. I don’t necessarily believe that everybody is trying to “holla” at me, to use such a classless and urban word, but I don’t want anybody to talk to me at all. I don’t want you to ask me the time, or say good morning. I don’t want to have a conversation in passing while we wait for the bus. It’s annoying and I’d rather be left to my own thoughts. If I’m unfriendly, well, that is my own business, is it not?
Another commenter said the same thing, “how does this type of woman hurt anybody?” Someone replied that no woman was above talking to someone.
Why not? What if I don’t want to talk to you? I have every right to look at you like scum of the earth. If you think I’m only smedium (another crass urban word), then so be it. Since I think so poorly of you that I wouldn’t even give you directions to hell, what do I care that you think I’m only a 6 on the “I’d Do Her Scale?” Do you understand your twisted logic?
Slim Jackson states this woman goes out of her way to ward off those “who honestly could give two shits about her existence,” but then he says this “pseudo-villain misconstrues friendliness with holler attempts.” Well, which is it, Mr. Slim Jackson? Do you not give two shits about my existence or are you trying to be friendly? If you don’t care about my existence, why are you trying to be friendly? If I’m so smedium why even bother speaking to me in the first place, or do you randomly speak to every woman you pass in the streets? While you’re at it, do you shout out a friendly good morning to the gay dude buying his morning coffee? What about the 6′4 refrigerator with a head in a black biker jacket with Brotherhood tattoos?
Or do you just want to be friendly to me because I’m some smedium woman minding her own damn business?
Okay, yeah, sure, some guys just want to be friendly, but I’ve found that if you give them an inch, they take a mile. If a random guy smiles at me and says, “Good morning,” and I return the greeting, then he thinks it’s okay to start up a conversation. No, I don’t want to talk; I was just trying to be polite so you won’t label me an Unhollerable Heffa. But if I give him the Look of Death and spit venom at him, then I am an Unhollerable Heffa. See how I just cannot win in this convoluted one-sided game?
Slim Jackson’s description that a large number of these women lurk in major cities and on college campuses throughout the United States is very accurate, but did he ever really take the time to understand precisely why there is such a large concentration in these areas? Well, look at the crime rates in the urban centers. Look at the rape statistics on college campuses. How can I know if you’re just some polite dude calling out the greeting of the day, or some lunatic stalking the streets?
Case in point, this past Saturday night I was leaving the club on K Street when some man tried to speak to me. I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt and say that he was trying to be friendly. Unfortunately, I’d rather you keep your friendly comments to yourself as I leave the club alone at 3 o’clock in the morning. Does that sound like a reasonable time to strike up a conversation with a woman on the streets? He said, “Why so mean-looking?” Because I’m out here by myself and I need to be vigilante in case you want to jump on me, not holla at me. He kept trying to walk towards me, so I crossed the street and he shouted at me, “Nobody wanted to talk to your ugly ass anyway, stank booty bitch. You ain’t even all that.” Or what about the moron I had to Mace at the ATM? I was trying to get money at an ATM when some jackass approached me. Since I had no idea what he was about, I Maced him and ran away. As I was fleeing down the street he screams, “I was just trying to be nice, you bitch.”
Perhaps Slim Jackson will argue the difference is that the women he’s categorised think everyone is trying to holla (my God, I hate that word) at her. They are not the same as the wary woman going about her business in a crime-infested city. I find this to be a rather disagreeable statement and a cover up for the truth. Slim Jackson is miffed that some smedium woman rebuffed him. How dare this 6.3 on the “I’d Do her Scale” look at me like I’m some perv. Is that it? Has your pride been dented just a little because a woman of passable looks wasn’t interested?
I noticed that in his diatribe on Unextraordinary Women, he had very little to say about very beautiful women, with the exception of the Pseudo Celeb. Most of his harranguing comments were directed at what he refers to as “marginal women.” If I may psychoanalyse, I wonder if this has to do with the fact that these marginal women are not often interested in him. Perhaps Mr. Slim Jackson is a very attractive man, but his personality and other traits are so lacking that even marginal women do not take the bait.
Why is it that guys think that women who are only mediums on the dime scale will just fall on their backs for any guy that winks at them? Why do they assume these women are desperate? Sure, nickles have to compete with the divas of the world, but some nickles are quite confident of themselves and very pleased with the way they are. Not every woman is insecure and suffering some sort of image malaise because she got skimped in the looks department. Guys seem to think that average girls are all hopelessly desperate, undersexed females clinging to their vibrators at night in the hopes that some Lothario will sweep them off their feet.
Average women have standards too, and if she doesn’t want to speak to you, then she doesn’t have to. Perhaps she thinks you’re only smedium.
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