She's Gotta Have It

Sometimes, being this good-looking... can be a burden. Oh, yeah.

But I'm used to it.

Nola and I met a year ago. I saw her eyeing me.

And she wasn't even interested.

And that... was a big turn-on.

And I've been turnin' her out ever since.

As Nola likes to say, we are "fuck buddies,"

and with that comes "fuck buddy" codes.

She has her rules. We don't really hang out.

We can't say we're exclusive.

But that's about to change.

Last night, at the gallery, I saw a different side of Nola Darling.

Now, I see more than just her body. I see the woman inside.

I saw a Nola in her world, a woman in her element, self-possessed.

She is special.

Hey, it's one thing fuckin' her in her lovin' bed.

But it's another bein' in the real world together.

I know she's got those dudes she hangs with.

Their punk-asses were probably orbiting around her show last night.

But I didn't see any competition.

Except for maybe that woman, Opal.

Okay, you got me. I'm not used to workin' this hard.

But I'm up for the challenge.

People, I came out of my dear mother's womb ready.

Why wouldn't she... wanna be with me?

I am a great fuckin' catch.

That's it. Today, I'm breakin' those rules.

Okay.

Ahh! Damn.

I am bursting with excitement.

I want to howl like a wolf!

An outstanding group show curated by the talented Clorinda Bradford

opened last night at the New Medina Gallery in Dumbo.

First, of course, we have the Haitian sensation, Baptiste...

... whose meaty-textured black on black

-eliminates the need for shade, line... -Blah, blah, blah.

-by bathing the eye in the infinity... -Skip.

-Zora Kneel Hurtin' subverts pop art... -Enough already!

...re-purposing Madam C.J. Walker's hot comb,

and thus, sets fire to the items that have shackled the souls...

Lemuel Richards excretes blackness in every stroke of his pen.

-You don't get it? He doesn't give a fuck! -Ahh!

The viewer must rise to meet him in blackness.

...the problem of the show and its weakest link, Nola Darling.

And that brings me to the problem of the show and its weakest link,

Nola Darling.

You heard right the first time.

You, Nola Darling, are the weakest link.

Ms. Darling's work is almost out of place

and overshadowed by the fierce trifecta of African-American artists.

-Ahh! -Her selection of work is pedestrian

when compared to the electrifying political perspectives of her peers.

-Fast forward. -Stop fast-forwarding.

Now, I had the opportunity to talk with Ms. Darling

about her selection of works, which she has presumptively entitled,

The Free Female Black Form.

And she was decidedly unable to articulate its meaning

-in any cohesive manner. -Fuck!

And is there any surprise in that?

How can one encapsulate the free female black form?

To her credit, Ms. Darling has ample facility.

It's certainly not a question of talent or skill, not by any means.

Oh, thanks.

Perhaps, her artistic eyes were just bigger than her stomach.

Let's be frank.

Not quite working with the same intensity as her diastopian peers

and with no unifying principles,

Ms. Darling's selection of work

is disparate, disjointed, diluted, and dysfunctional.

I don't want to know who Ms. Darling is inspired by.

I want to know who she is.

Fuck you, Julius Kemper!

Shit!

- - Bonjour, Mademoiselle Nola.

C'est moi , Greer.

Chérie, félicitations.

-Call me back. -

Ladybug, this is Mommy and Daddy calling.

We are so proud of you.

Your father's making your favorite greasy breakfast,

some salmon croquettes, some grits and potatoes.

-Mm! Stop by. -

Nola, I hope my presence was a pleasant surprise.

I promise, it won't be the last.

-Hit me back. -

- Nola, chérie , call me back. -

Money is coming! Money is coming! Money is coming!

- - Yo, yo, yo!

Nola, what up? I ain't mad at you for not invitin' me.

Hope you ain't mad at the kid for standin' up for his femme fatale, a'ight?

On the sincerious tip, how about a make-up call?

-Love from the planet Mars. -

Come in.

How are you?

-Fine. You? -Fine.

Must be important for you to walk all the way down here, to my dungeon.

In fact, it's very important. Virgil wants to play us something.

-How is our son doing? -Great.

But you need to ask him yourself.

Yeah.

- Bravo! - Bravo!

Come here. Give me a kiss.

Wow!

Where did that come from?

It came from that stupid video I was in.

I thought about who I am and what this country's all about.

I did some research and found out Francis Scott Key wrote a mad racist verse

endorsing slavery.

So, all this time, we've been singing this national anthem

about our 246 years of enslavement, not to end it, but to continue it.

-Virgil, I didn't know this. -Me neither.

Google.

All right, we'll be up soon.

-That was great. -Thank you.

-Love you. -Love you too.

That's our best work.

Yeah.

Where is No-No La-La?

La-No? La-No?

- -

Ugh! Who is it?

- - You know who this is.

I can't hear you!

-It's... -

Stop ringing my bell! Go away!

Enough.

- -

- -

Are you fucking kidding me?

Go to hell!

What the fuck are you doing here, Greer?

Somebody had a long night. You gonna let me in?

No! No, I'm not gonna let you in,

and I do not appreciate you coming over here unannounced.

Well, if you would've answered my calls and texts!

Boy, bye!

Baby, could you please open the door so I can talk to you?

Did I not set the rules? And did you not agree to those rules?

-All you do is break the rules. -Whatever.

-I'm not in the mood for a booty call. -No, I'm not here for your lovin' bed.

Let's go out, celebrate your triumphant debut.

How about dinner? Go to a film. Whatever you like.

I just wanna show you a nice time. Cinema? Okay. Old or new?

-Old. Shot in black-and-white. -Okay, a film it is. I'll text you.

I did not commit to that.

Mmm.

Come on, I don't wanna miss previews.

-Give me one of those. -Yes.

What can I do for you?

Peola.

We've been lookin' everywhere for you.

Are you talking to me?

There must be some mistake. My name isn't Peola.

There ain't no mistake. Why have you got this job?

You don't have to work. I'll give you everything you want.

What are you talking about?

I'm sure you've got me confused with someone else.

Why, why, Peola, child, I'm your mammy.

Why, that's ridiculous. I never saw you before in my life.

What's the meaning of this?

This woman doesn't know what she's talking about.

Do I look like her daughter?

Do I look like I could be her daughter?

Why, she must be crazy!

You okay?

Yeah, I'm fine.

You got that...

I don't know, this...

je ne sais quoi.

In fact...

-Let me show you. -Uh, I'm really--

-Just get over here. -

-That's sweet. -Mm.

Bisou.

-Greer, lost my number? -I miss you.

-How you doin'? -Long time no see.

-Greer! -Call me back.

- -Where you been?

Salut.

Thank you.

-Problem? -Not mine.

-May I join you? -Yes, please do.