Considering the Fallen

He says these words to me off the cuff and during a tangent in a long conversation. “You should consider a fallen man.”

I’m intrigued. The man sitting across from me is wise and smart. I trust him and his judgment.  “Fallen? Like he tripped?”

“Fallen, like a man who is in the pen.”

I sigh. He diverts the conversation to another tangent. We never discuss this again.

But it has been rolling around in my head for months.

You should date a fallen guy, someone who is in the pen.

I get this gem of relationship advice from a friend who was interested in my own good. I know he was trying to help me expand my dating pool. He wants to push me out of my dating rut desert dilemma.

But this advice doesn’t help. It only serves to aggravate. Pushing people to get out of their comfort zones and take some risks in dating is one thing, but this hard press of finding a date using the state and federal corrections database is not cool.

Fill in the blank: If another person tells me that I should seek out my ideal mate in the local county lock-up, I will ___.

I’ll go first. I will pop a cap in their knee. My goal isn’t to kill: It’s to maim you so you remember your noxious stupidity and vapidity.

Honestly, why am I told, cajoled, and ordered to scour Prison Pen Pals or Write a Prisoner when the marriageable men of my same age, income bracket, and IQ are given a free pass? They aren’t told that Green Eyes is a good catch with some flaws (incarceration, face and neck tattoos, violent pasts). They aren’t asked why Diabla isn’t an option for a love match.

The rumors about the great Black male shortage are greatly exaggerated and exist to force women into gendered norms and ideals scare women into settling for any person with a working penis and the appropriate chromosomes. I don’t scare easy, and I’m not one to settle unless it involves settling down for a nap.

I’m quite okay with being alone. Actually, I am not. I would like a date (dinner and a movie, bowling and dinner, rock climbing and dinner — the key theme here is dinner, folks), but trying to make a love match with me a brother in the penal system isn’t going to help me achieve that goal.  

Published by tianajohnson90

I am an oil-and-water combination of humor, ambition, laziness, insecurity, certainty, procrastination, and drive. I am an aspiring romance novelist who writes by the seat of her pants. Waging and sometimes winning a daily battle with procrastination, plots, characters, and the day job.

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