I'm a Gold Digger

Yes you heard me. Big ol’ gold digger and I don’t give a rat’s a…bottom! Oh no, I’m not alone in this illustrious career. It’s well sought after and apparently, quite a lucrative hit. I belong to a gang of black African women married to or in relationships with white men. As some people would have you believe, we ALL are seasoned, hardcore gold diggers. 

The romantics (mostly white) will ask, “ ….So, how did you two (lovebirds) meet?” There’s no doubt it was love. Very close friends (black, white, etc) wont ask -- they were there as the story unfolded and were constantly furnished with up-to-date details.

The WISE people, (the kind that’s not necessarily close to you but you’ve known them for ages and they claim to know absolutely EVERYTHING) finally allow their undesirable brittle disposition to shine through the friendly facade, “…Soooooo, how did you manage to catch yourself a white man…mmm?” (Replace ‘catch’ with any word that makes that sentence sound derogatory, like, bag etc.). I picked him off the road, idiot! A sweet ‘how we met’ story, oozing chemistry and thick with passion won't count. No sir! I’ll still be the little sneaky gold digger who knew where to hit and HIT HARD. I’ll often catch an eye roll that I wasn't supposed to, or an exchanged look that was meant to be discreet or sometimes, I get that annoying conspiratorial  ‘we both know the real story’ smirk. A smirk I’ve wished (many many times) I could wipe off with a punch that would hopefully dislodge a tooth or two…hell, why am I being nice…the whole goddamned set of teeth!  

According to wise people (I’ll go out on a limb here and state; mostly my fellow countrymen - black to the bone)…

A hapless young white man sent me a skype message one day, 7 years ago, asking to practice his English with me.  Seeing a golden opportunity (pun intended), I engaged him and I proposed an exchange. My English for his insight in a course Unit I was offering at University (He was a Computer Science graduate and I was in the last year of a CSC degree course). I met him a few days later, made him forgot all about the exchange, then met with him some more and made the helpless guy drown in my devilishly enchanting brown eyes – I apparently gave it my all. The poor guy had no snowball’s chance in hell. My sisal sack gave a crazy chime in response and prepared for glad tidings.  I latched on and promised to never let go – unless my sisal sack started coming apart at the seams (nothing to do with it’s age).

Not satisfied with just his heart, I employed all means – possibly doubling in black magic – to get him to invite and then settle me in Europe.  Otherwise, what would a handsome young white man see in an almost penniless young African woman? Maybe if she’d been born abroad…

After 3 years of endless digging or mining or whatever, I got him to propose and later marry me. He had no part in this. Poor guy. Then, on realizing that the European rules were tough and that I needed more leverage, I decided to get pregnant. Dude received the news like everybody else. That photo of him holding the pregnancy test and grinning from ear to ear must be a fake. I now had him where I wanted. I could now shamelessly burst open my sack and have a blast. Possibly buy a house back home, several houses even and live it up.

Then…7 years on and nothing?

Smirk...smirk!Mmm, looks like the guy wasn’t as gullibly as she thought.”  OR  “He must’ve wizened up.”  And the winner,  “Poor unlucky girl, he probably wasn’t as rich as she thought he was.”

Sigh! One just can’t win!



10 comments:

  1. LOL Long term mine. I know exactly what you're talking about. Many are still waiting for the mansion I should be constructing back home. Oh well!

    ReplyDelete
  2. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I literally Laughed Out Loud reading this!!! You have an interestingly bold & sarcastic style of writing.
    So how many houses have you built so far ?? LOL

    Dare i dream about a world without prejudices...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you :). Mmmm...not in the near future am afraid :(. Wait and see, a few more years and rumor will have it that 'destitute and desperate to go back home' :D

      Delete
  4. what a great way of telling ur story. I love the sarcasm. I was lol reading this. I hope you don´t mind me sharing this link on our blog :-)

    afromeetseuro.com

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Sure...go ahead. I don't mind. Thank you. I am glad yo found it an entertaining read. Hopefully, I'll continue to do that for you

      Delete
  5. I laughed my lungs out..I love this. so so true!
    We are waiting for posh mansions, sleek cars, designer clothes.....lol

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. ....Hahahha. Sleek cars...now that! You know, the very first indicator they look for is designer clothes...then move up from there...sigh!

      Delete
  6. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete