I don’t mean to be rude! I don’t mean to intrude. But I’ve got to know your name. -Rebel Souljahz
When I was chilling poolside, catching some sun, this bouncy reggae song spoke out to me. It made me laugh and think about summers of the past. Those long hot summers standing in uniform at the grocery counter, while the boys tried to muster up any old thing to talk to me.
And distract me with personal questions, or wanting to know more than just my name on the company name tag. “Shasta”. The guy would say, like all sassy too.
But I understand now. A man who passes someone intriguing must know more about the woman. I am laughing as I write this. Some people may think I am conceited, but it happened. It happens to all women. Men don’t mean to be rude when they honk a horn, or stop you on the stairs. They cannot let a good one pass them by. He must simply know your name.