I was reading an eloquently worded post on the homie GEM’s blog titled I Believe in Romance Movies. You can probably guess what it was about since GEM is a woman. I mean…chicks like romance movies even though they’re typically unrealistic. She understands this, but isn’t gonna let that stop her from waiting for a man to stand outside her window with a Mexican quartet and a value pack from Taco Bell. She didn’t actually say this. I just thought it was a “romantic” and comedic image.
The reason I mention her post is because it got me thinkin’ about the concept of romance. If I had a dollar for every time a woman asked me if I considered myself romantic, I’d probably have like…well, $20. Without a discount code, that wouldn’t even get me 2 movie tickets on Fandango. My hot date is already off to a bad start. Womps.
I usually answer the question about romance with more questions to get clarity. Romance is blurry to me. This isn’t to say that I just sit on my ass waiting to get fed and f*cked while doing little more in return than thrust-n-groan. It just means I never thought to attach the word to anything I’ve done for a woman. My dad taught me about respecting the fairer sex and what’s likely to cause the draws to drop. He didn’t teach me how to be romantic. I think we can all agree on what the deceased (chivalry) should look like, but romance is relative to the person you ask. And since it’s relative, I kinda just go with the flow and do whatever causes yay’s and aww’s.
Listening to a woman tell me what she likes and then taking action is a logical sequence for me. Buying flowers, sending non-generic cards, and going out to dinner are no-brainers. For some women, that’s enough to keep them happy. For others, they expect more because they’re used to getting more. Ask any regular Joe that’s dating a chick that had only dated celebrities and mildly talented R&B singers.
What one man may think is a romantic gesture (Stopping at McDonald’s to get her a large fry then stopping at CVS to get condoms because his last girl, Bombqueesha, liked it) may come across as basic and expected. She’ll appreciate the salty goodness at the moment, but she may then find herself yapping with her girls about how he never does anything romantic and that she only stays with him because of his pump prowess.
So am I romantic? I don’t know. What happens in the movies doesn’t really happen in my life. As long as she’s smiling and reciprocating in and outside of the bedroom, I’ll just assume I’m getting it done and that she’s happy. If she wants to call it romantic, then great. I’ll just continue to call it being me.