2 Guys, 1 Slut
When I heard that Tyrese and Rev Run were doing a relationship advice-esque show together, I knew it was going to be some bullshit. For years, Tyrese has been putting out videos that showcase his lame, outdated, terribly misogynist views. Admittedly , I was less familiar with Rev Run, however I am intimately familiar with how Black men, especially Black Christian men get when it comes to Black women in general and our sexuality specifically. (Steve Harvey, anyone?) Because of this, there was no doubt in my mind that this un-dynamic duo would do more harm than good toward advancing cis, straight female/male relationships. The clip I saw of Amber Rose’s upcoming appearance on It’s Not You, It’s Men, showed me that I guessed it, I was right.
Here’s the clip:
(I’ll give you a moment for your stunned disbelief or for your righteous anger to settle…You good? Okay, let’s continue.)
Now, Rev Run is just playing Devil’s Advocate — which in conversations with men about misogyny and rape culture, is just misogyny with more subtlety. Kinda. Meanwhile, Tyrese took the more aggressive route and likened sexually assaulting a woman to a game of basketball. (I lol’d when I typed that because it’s so goddamn preposterous.) The comparison is extremely flawed and predicated on the ridiculous, but socially conditioned belief that your completely limited perception of a person actually tells you who they are and gives you some claim to them because of it.
To be fair, Tyrese’s job has mostly been to be pretty so he’s doing as well as I expect. In the spirit of meeting folks where they are, I’m going to roll with his analogy. Ya know, as if it was a legitimate comparison that makes any kind of real sense…
Let’s say I see Derrick Rose walking down the street in his Number One jersey with a basketball in his hand, crossing over pedestrians. All of a sudden, I feel my hoop dreams bubble up inside of me and I approach him. I say, “D, we’re about to ball.” He looks me over from head to toe and says, “No.” According to Tyrese, I am somehow still owed a basketball game. D. Rose, a “well known basketball player” is presenting himself with the “energy” of a person who wants to hoop. By Tyrese’s “logic,” as the person who has picked up on this “energy,” D. Rose now owes me a goddamned basketball game! I should be allowed to force him to play, right? What about all of the other people on the street who feel this energy? He owes them a game too, right? (God, this is so dumb. So so so dumb.)
The answers is, of course, NO. He said no, he meant no. The answer is and should be respected as no. I don’t get to force the issue because really, my desires are my own to deal with and are none of D. Rose’s business, much less his problem. He’s out, feeling himself and enjoying something he loves, and I have no claim to his time or body because of any intangible “energy” he may or may not be putting out. (Which is super subjective in the first place.) Whatever I feel about it is of no consequence because ultimately, it is his choice. I chose to approach and was turned down. Now I have the choice to be an adult and accept the rejection or become a rapist. Um, basketball-game-forcer. (Guys, that is how dumb this is.)
To close out on this stupid ass basketball/sexual assault analogy, D. Rose does not owe me a basketball game. His desire to not play with me is not somehow trumped by my desire to ball with him just because he’s wearing a jersey and some jays.
This is the point that Amber Rose was making. I got dressed for me. I went out with my friends because I like having fun and shaking my ass. I came to dance. The length of my dress is not an invitation to rub your dick on me. If I accept your invitation to dance, let’s dance. The minute I’m done, we’re done. If I turn down your invitation to dance, that’s it. This extends to sex. At no point am I, or any other woman obligated to deliver on your whack ass perceptions or expectations of us. Ever.
So no, Tyrese, no matter how tight my sneakers are laced up, I don’t owe you a fucking basketball game.
