Preface

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Why can't I find a man with money? The first time I heard that, I was sixteen years old, dropping fries in the back of a fast food joint. The twenty-something lead cashier was leaning against the counter, cheeks puffed with bitterness moments after her mousy best friend had been chauffeured through our Drive-Thru by her Lexus pushing new boyfriend. "I look better than her! Y'all tell me I don't look better than her?" She peeped through the burger slide, flashing her baby blue eyes, waiting for me and the rest of my teenage burger flipper crew to hop on her clit with a unanimous, "you are prettier!" The truth was that she was more physically attractive than her best friend, but having seen both of them in the restaurant palling around; the difference in personality superiority was obvious. My co-worker was what the pre-ratchet world referred to as redneck white trash. She was overly loud and mannish, flirted with everyone, and had a reputation for telling her business and the business of those close to her for the sake of attention. If I had the wisdom back then, I would have chimed in, "Sure you're prettier, but those set of lips aren't worth the trouble if the other set won't shut the fuck up." It was my first experience with a woman thinking that men are completely driven by looks, and this rule that pretty gets pampered... but it wouldn't be my last.

Why can't I find a man with money? The first time I read that was a few weeks after Solving Single came out, and I was doing the first round of advice emails. This young lady listed several qualities that she possessed that made her better than the rest. She had a Master's degree, was in a supervising position at work, no kids, just bought her first new car, and was working on saving money for a home. The first half of her email was an angry response to all the black men that had used her, passed her over, or played games in the 29 years she had been alive. The second half was a tirade on "Hoes[1]" as she called them. She did everything that men say they want from a wife in the making. She held them down with home cooked meals, understood when they didn't have money, gave out loans, and sacrificed dates for in-house chilling because that's what her mother did for her dad. What set her off was her cousin's best friend. At first, she assumed that this well styled yet unemployed girl was walking around with fake handbags. When she came through with a new BMW, she assumed this girl was borrowing someone's car. Finally, when she had a New Year's Eve party at a home bigger than the one her parents owned, she realized she wasn't a fraud. This girl was winning with men on a level that she couldn't reach with her degrees, career, and nurturing love.

Why can't I find a man with money? Why do I only meet men who need me to sacrifice or be a team player? Why can't a good woman get spoiled too? That was the exact ending of this woman's email. I imagine the reason this bothered her so much was that when she went home alone after that NYE party and laid in her cold bed, she realized that playing by the rules of her mother, the rules of society, and the rules of so-called good girls had not made her "Wifey Material," it left her as "That bitch that doesn't mind going Dutch." For all of those positives she bragged about, she was nearly 30 and dating on the level of a 19-year-old college student. As I began to think about what I should write back to her, I realized that what I had to say wouldn't be short, and it wouldn't be what she would consider fair.

Unlike most men, I can freely admit that I love Hos. I believe a woman that can get a man to pay for her college education is just as smart as the 21-year-old that can go to Wall Street and convince men three times his age to line his pockets. I am whole-heartedly a capitalist, and it would be extremely misogynistic for me to not applaud her cousin's friend over her own effort. One attacked

life, the other complained. The woman writing me was an educated fool who placed all her faith in outside forces, while the alleged Ho she was slandering manifested her own destiny. As an educated woman, she should be able to win on the highest levels, but knowledge without the courage to apply it is worthless. This emailer and that cashier from years ago represent two schools of thought. The first being the extremely attractive woman who has nothing of substance inside feeling as if her Maxim looks should be enough to get the highest caliber man. The second being the career woman who feels as if her education, professional ambition, and niceness should be enough to inspire men to wife her. Both women were wrong because neither understood what truly excites men. The purpose of this book is to fully explain what drives males and how to weaponize it to your advantage.

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