Bitches on the Bus

Bitches on the Bus…

I know - I know the title is startling but I had to do it.  Why such a title you ask, I will tell you, keep reading.  Many years ago in my community it was an acceptable term to call someone you disliked a bitch, or someone you like could be greeted at “hey bitch”.  Our male counterparts (we preferred) more commonly known as a “gangster” because of his involvement with drugs, money and cars would often refer to his girl as “my bitch” and she in turn would identify her beau as “that’s my niggar”.  These terms were  often interchangeable for both males and females.   Yea so that “gangster niggar” was a phrase that made us feel like we had a real man.  We would watch him walk in the bar looking very yummy or we watch him ride in the park leaning to the right or low riding in the back and it was so appealing.  We would walk down the avenue and see him from afar hanging on the block and nearly drop to ground if he winked at us.  Don’t let me forget to mention if he’s really someone else’s “niggar” we are all the more thrilled when he acknowledged us in public as if that was a justification that he really cared about us.  I have often wondered why we as black women would accept calling ourselves “bitches” by our friends, our boyfriends and even referring to ourselves in third person as “this bitch”.  At one point the word on the street was that a “bitch” was a female dog.  Then again I ask why we would allow this term to grow and breathe as term of endearment.  Some of us gangster “bitches” loved the association of the definition of a ”dog” or what a mean dog represented.    We had good reason to bark regularly and consistently and we had good reason to bite when necessary, or did we really?  Did we really love the association of the “dog” or did we hate ourselves so much for allowing ourselves to have not one but two babies by that gangster only to watch him ride through the park with the next “bitch”.  Or did we no longer care about ourselves because we gave so much to that gangster and then he went away and left us for his one room condo at the penitentiary.  Perhaps we simply felt like our lives had less meaning because Barbara went to college and she has her own place and she came home flashing her pink and green.  Jackie married a basketball player and left the state; do remember when she was your “dog” and now she won’t even send you a lousy birthday card.  Perhaps we don’t like ourselves because we settled for someone else’s husband for 8 years and he’s still working on leaving his wife.  It could just be that in what looks like our present state no one really gives a hoot about me, my baby or my life; so we will again settle for being a damn good “bitch” and dare you knock the title off my shoulder considering it may be the only title we will own.  Doesn’t look like we will ever carry the title Mrs.  Somebody  that the world would have you believe is a mark of distinction.  Everyone wants to be somebody, if we really look in the mirror beyond our weaves and false persona’s we just might find someone that is worthy and deserving of a love from someone who really loves us.  The conductor is waiting for the “bitches” to get off the bus and transfer to the “I Do Deserve Better and I Can Get It If I Try” bus.  Ladies this is the only bus I know that runs 365 day a year and 525,949 minutes a year.  You will never miss this bus unless you don’t get off the “Bitch” bus.