“Don’t you know you’re my everything?” Chaka Khan sings in Sweet Thing. She is singing to her lover who is being shady and trying to run away. “I wish you were my lover, but you act so undercover.” Oh shoot- now I am distracted by “Chaka Khan let me rock you, let me rock you Chaka Khan. Let me rock you.” That’s all I want to do. Rock you. I feel for you. Chaka. I really do. But I also feel for me. Waiting for you is really hard. Chaka.
The waiting is always the hardest part. Waiting in line especially. I was waiting in line in the Ladies Room of the Empire Hotel Lobby recently and a stubborn-looking older woman was in front of me when I walked in. There were a few stalls there and one looked vacant to me, even though the door was closed. I attempted to check to see if it was available and the woman cockblocked me. Well, not literally because this was the Ladies Room but she did it in her own feminine way—by standing in front of me and blocking me!
Then in a very faux helpful voice she said “there’s someone in there.” I had fully intended to let her go in first if it was free, but being the good girl that I am, I backed off, fuming. (She did have about 50 lbs on me.) As soon as she went into her stall, I breezed into the stall that was supposedly occupied and of course it was vacant. (I do know how to peek under and look for feet!) The dilemma was that there was no move for me to make that would bring me justice. Should I wait for her to come out of the bathroom just to say: “man, were you wrong, lady!”? It would defeat the purpose. But it’s still bugging me two months later.
Don’t blow my high, that’s all I’m sayin’. Chaka. (sorry it’s going to keep coming out of me like a hiccup now.) I feel for you, and if you want to wait in line in the Ladies Room, that’s your prerogative. But don’t stand in my way, please.
Now, in a love relationship, this dilemma gets even trickier. There are times when you’re waiting in line together, driving in the same car, planning timing for your future or making big purchases together and you can’t just push Betty White out of the way. I actually like Betty White. She stays relevant for her age so that’s a bad example. But I think you know what I mean. You can’t push your girlfriend out of the car just because she’s telling you to drive slower. At least not when you’re driving over 25mph. Chaka.
So here’s what I do. Or I should say what I try to do when I’m having more than my usual patience and confidence. I rock you. I wink at Betty White and make a “shhh” symbol. I tiptoe over to the door, slowly swing it open and make a grand gesture, just like a Manhattan doorman right before Christmas bonuses. Then I usher her into that stall like the queen that she believes she is. She’ll be thanking me and I’ll be in the next stall in no time. That’s on my good day.
Or I sneak past her so fast that she doesn’t even see what happened and I pee before she has a chance to stop me. In that case, I rock me. I haven’t tried that one but I may be about to try it. Either way works though, and there are a million other creative ways to self-actualize. The fun is in the figuring them out. Chaka.
The words I say they may sound funny, but whoa sweet thing, don’t you know you’re my everything?