I don’t have to listen to rap music to know how to juice a dude; there are some special talents that are included in every Oakland woman. I don’t have to watch movies to know what it takes to make him love me, and I don’t have to decry men as a whole when things go wrong. You won’t find me out in the streets, bleeding open heart and bemoaning my existence to anyone who will listen because I know who the fuck I am and I know what the fuck I’m doing here. I’m sitting here, icy as they come, cold and calculated, with another man in my back pocket, and it didn’t take years of trying to understand how humanity works as a whole to figure it out. It took being a born a woman, and that’s how I learned how to be a woman: I am woman, therefore I juice dudes. A trick is a trick, a knock is a knock, and a mark is a mark. I don’t have to say these truths out loud for them to be self evident; I already know. I’ve been knowing. I’ve been knowing how to fuck someone until I get exactly what I want, which is great because all I want is to fuck some more. I will not be warning other women about the perils of men, nor will I be instructing them on the art of love as war, because every time I see another woman walking down the street, I look at her. And I know. And she knows. And we do not need to smile, we do not need to nod. She is a woman, too, just like me, and I do not need to say it out loud in order for us both to know: we are queens at our craft, because we are born this way.
Women are dangerous creatures. This is why the world hates us, but even beneath the burden of everyone else’s hatred, we still reign supreme.