Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Sugar Babies versus Sugar Daddy

Sugar Babies versus Sugar Daddy


Imari Jade

It is seven o’clock and we’ve lost power twice to a severe rainstorm. I barely made it into the house this evening before it came down. If the bus driver had procrastinated five more minutes at the terminal I would have gotten drenched. I hope the power stays on long enough for me to complete this blog. The severe weather alert I have downloaded to my computer keeps chirping every time there is an important weather bulletin. Let’s see, we’re under tornado watch, flood watch, severe weather watch, and god knows what else. It’s kind of spooking being home alone. I’ve taken my bath and was trying to put some music on my MP3 player but so far I’ve been unsuccessful. I just got the Original Theme Songs to “You’re Beautiful,” and I want to hear it on the way to way to work tomorrow. Darn, the storm just wiped out my television. Okay I got it back on. I need to watch the Weather Channel, or at least listen to it. It’s starting to hail. I have 100 mile an hour wind resistant windows installed. I hope I don’t have to test them, and I hope their hail resistant. I hope I don’t have to get into my walk-in closet because it’s too cluttered to walk in.

Today’s blog title is Sugar Babies versus Sugar Daddy. True I can say that this blog is about candy…eye candy, that is. I had a doctor’s appointment this morning. I got out about 8:30 but I missed the bus and had to wait another hour for another bus so I could go to work. Five minutes after I arrived at the bus stop a man came up and started a conversation. He started off by discussing the bus schedule and telling me that he used to be a bus driver for the city of Los Angeles before he retired. He was a nice enough gentlemen and before I knew it we were deep in conversation about the state of the city post Katrina, our kids, the kids of this generation and fishing on Lake Ponchatrain.

So in an hour I found out that he was retired, was a widower, had six kids, and was an army vet. He asked me what I did for a living and I told him. I handed him one of my business cards and told him to check out my site.

By the time the bus finally arrived there were about five of six of us waiting. I got on first and then he got on and came sat next to me. We continued our conversation. I was really flattered that he thought I was younger than I am. He is sixty-eight and living in a retirement home. He told me that he was on his way to VA but would be moving in another retirement home soon on the other side of the Mississippi River. He told me that he thought I was a nice young woman, complemented me on my manners and for not being stuck up like most women he’s met, told me I had a beautiful smile and asked if he can take me to lunch one day. I told him sure. I’ll probably never see him again, since my business card does not contain my real name, or my phone number. I don’t expect to see him again or go out with lunch with him. And it’s not because I didn’t find him charming, or intelligent and well-mannered. Okay, you know what’s coming…he’s sixty-eight and I don’t date anyone older than 40. What can I do with a sixty eight year old sugar daddy, except take his money? That’s not me. I’m strictly into sugar babies.

So what exactly is a sugar baby? My definition of a sugar baby is a young man between the ages of 25 and 40, tall, Asian, lithe and more beautiful than handsome. He has to have fashion sense, good manners, and great personal hygiene and can financially support himself, preferably a Korean music idol. Yah’ll know I was going there. Fine black guys around my age don’t fit into that category, (they’re more like Hershey candy bars, delicious to look at but bad for my blood pressure) so this blog is not about them. It’s about my current personal choice.

I really should pen a book on forming relationships on buses. I’ve heard women say that they can’t meet a man or a good man no matter how hard they look. Honey, you should get your butt out the car and ride the bus. Not a day goes by when a guy doesn’t strike up a conversation with me. It is not bragging, but the honest truth. Half the time I don’t want to be bothered, have my face buried in a book or writing, but for some reason they just start a conversation. I won’t say that’s a bad thing because I’ve gathered a lot of character information just by talking to people. It’s one of the basic rules of writing, listen to the people around them, talk to them and pick out the little quirks and differences you can use when you develop a character for a short story or a novel. So far it’s been working.

Okay I’m starving so I have to make my way to the kitchen to get me something to eat before this power goes out. I better save this before I step away and take the flash light with me. It took me five minutes. I had to run past my patio door in case the wind decided to blow it out. I threw some salad fixing on a plate, added salad dressing and dinner is done. Son number 3 will have to fend for himself tonight. I fixed steak and baked potatoes yesterday and he didn’t even touch it. See what I mean about black men? This one is gorgeous but he stresses me out with his poor eating habits. P. S. I pretended I didn’t see those two boxes of Krispy Kreme donuts on the table that he brought home. I had to reset the time and the alarm again on the clock.

Now back to the blog. Let’s compare a sugar baby to a sugar daddy. I’m talking about other people’s sugar babies but not mine. He fits into another category and there’s not enough room on his blog today.

A sugar daddy is an older man who likes to go out with a much younger woman, take her to dinner and then dancing. He shows off in front of his friends because he’s with a younger more attractive woman and his friends are in the bar with much older women…possibly their wives. He dances all the dances from his generations, drinks Jack Daniels and Coke most of the night and falls asleep at the table when the young woman goes off to the ladies’ room.

A sugar baby is a young man who likes to go out with a much older woman, takes her to McDonalds or Pizza Hut to show her off to his friends, takes her dancing at a club versus a bar, knows all the current singers and their songs, can dance their ass off on the dance floor, drinks Hennessey or Patron most of the night. He may get drunk, but not if he has other plans for the evening. He watches you as you walk to the ladies room and is standing outside of it waiting for you when you get out so you won’t go off with some other sugar baby on the way back to the table.

A sugar daddy will call you every day to see how you are doing, tell you that he had a good time on your date, and wants to get with you again. He tells you when his retirement check is coming and wants to spend it on you in return for you going to bed with him. He’ll pay your bills, buy you pretty little baubles and let you drive his car. Then if you’re foolish enough to fall for this he’ll probably fall asleep or have a heart attack while you’re getting busy and you’ll be scared for life because you think you’ve kill him with your feminine whiles.

A sugar baby will call you when he’s not playing on his X-Box or he doesn’t have any of his friends around to play basketball with. The subject of money won’t ever come up in conversation unless you’re peeping over his shoulder at the ATM machine, but he’ll tell you that he want to go to bed with you because he likes a mature woman who is more experience than girls his age. If you’re foolish enough to fall for his line he won’t be the one having the heart attack because men that age can go on and on like the Energizer Bunny. You’ll be the one scared to get him with again until you recuperate or at least have your heart checked by a doctor.

A sugar daddy wants to introduce you to his kids and his mama and take you to church to show you off to the pastor and the deacons. He wants to see if he can make the women his age drag your name through the gutter for dating an older guy and probably won’t invite you to their home to dinner for fear you’ll either steal their husbands or make their husbands think they can be sugar daddies even though their married. A sugar daddy will even put money in the collection plate for you to show the rest of the congregation that he still know how to take care of a lady.

A sugar baby won’t try to introduce you to his kids because he’s trying to hide the fact that maybe he has a baby mama somewhere in the picture. And he also won’t take you to meet his mama because you and she are the same age and he doesn’t want the two of you to get into a fist fight. He certainly won’t take you to church because he’s afraid he’ll be struck by lightning since he hasn’t been inside one since he attended Sunday school. If he does manage to take you he’ll live in the confessional confessing to all the things you and him have been doing to get your freak on.

A sugar daddy is more affectionate that a sugar baby. He wants to hug on you and kiss you and touch your stuff in public and he definitely have it in his mind that he can still perform in bed now as he could when he was in this twenties.

A sugar baby might hug you if no one’s looking, but kiss you passionately when you’re alone. And he’ll never touch you stuff in public, but will check out your butt if you’re walking ahead of him. And he’ll definitely perform better in bed than a sugar daddy, even if he’s a virgin. And since Sugar Mama’s are more experience in love-making than sugar babies she is willing to teach him what it takes to please here, which is easier than trying to teach an old dog a new trick.

Lastly a sugar daddy will respect you in the morning if he survived the night of passion, while a sugar baby will thank you every morning for just surviving and probably treat you to breakfast at Denny’s to show you off to his friends and his employer.

Okay enough being silly. I have to read over a synopsis and submit a manuscript to my publisher. It’s still raining cats and dogs.

Imari Jade

1 comment:

  1. If you are already retired, don't ever do as sugar daddy for young ladies. Your money will take away from you.

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