Ya waitin' to exhale I say "breathe, sista, breathe"/can you achieve instead of believe as you leave love bereaved/ see -- you trippin' -- my love you disrespectin' as you flippin'/ out and without a doubt, boo, just keep slippin'/ into darkness park this whip outside my house or drive on/ you only give a damn about yo flav, so go it alone/ so go on with your badness had this but I gotta let it go/ as you let one great brother walk right out yer door
          --HT, freestyle

Spring. An operative's thoughts turn to the fairer sex. Well, "fair" might not be the proper term when referring to females, but oh well. Close friends at hand, he pondered Valentine's Day Damage Control.

Commiserating romantic woes over bottles of Fruitopia, the operative reviewed Hoodlum with some of the Chosen and the Soul Review Board. The Commissioner, gentle giant that he is, spoke bitterly of an inconsiderate sister who drove him around and wouldn't stop for food nor comic books, yet had him wait while she visited dressing rooms, then dropped him off so she could go get Chinese.

Mr. Xavier was too tired to comment on topic. Mr. Singleton had no idea what his girl was thinking. This wasn't a woman-bashing session in the terms of Terry McMillan, but the closest male psyches come to openness with pain in a world that teaches not being hard leads to pine boxes.

The operative reminisced about his last paramour -- butterscotch angel, all Nordstroms' white sales and West Angeles Sunday mornings -- and took a slice of bean pie. "She wanted to change you," Mr. Xavier reminded him. "Made you drive north of Wilshire, wouldn't come see you in the Jungle," Mr. Singleton added. The operative nodded, knew she'd never see past material world into ether of pure will where Damage Control is strongest. But he missed her smile, missed her legs draped across his, laughing at King of The Hill.

"Could be worse," noted Mr. Xavier, "it could be that Leo you were with all that time." All sat back, remembering dark chocolate vision that the operative stayed with, beyond all good sense, and her 39-25-47 enticements. Through all her nagging, demanding, jealous insecurity ... she loved him as much as she could. Had tried to get past self-involvement, even helped him pay the rent once. In the end, neither his devotion or her efforts were enough.

"So what we saying here?" the Commissioner asked. "Are we sayin' we should put up with all that? Yeah we made mistakes, but we weren't the cause of what ended these relationships!"

The operative spoke quietly. "An elder sister I respect, Regina Jones, told me men know what they don't like about females and overlook it. Females know what they don't like, and think it'll change. Later, when they're the same people, just spent more time together, she changes angrily, starts in on him, why won't he change? He's confused. Why did she change? How can he get back the girl he started out with?" The operative sipped and sighed, "That's part of why we're all employed, smart, respectable, single, bitter brothers. We didn't let them change us. They made us suffer until we had to make them go."

A sad pause followed that. There was leaden silence as Vanessa Williams left Larry Fishburne.

"That's what Hoodlum taught me," the operative suddenly blurted. "Woman he loved left him. Woman he'd die for -- The Queen, his mother figure -- turned her back on him. Even his cousin stuck on stupid and fronted him. Bumpy overcame it all, white folk too. Through force of will. Brains. Didn't need none of 'em, fuck 'em."

"Didn't you say your mom dissed, what, ten good brothers by the time you were 19, and was still sayin' 'where all the good Black men' stuff?" Mr. Xavier asked.

Nods all around. The Commissioner said, "In media, all people talk about is brothers doin' wrong, deadbeat dads. They don't talk about brothers like us, good brothers who wanna do right and can't get arrested for sisters chasin' Ginuwine and whatever."

"I don't know, yo -- I'm just an operative," the operative said. "All that 'wait-and-the-right-one'll-come' junk's mad corny when you've invested months, turnin' away dips tryin' to get at you, and sis goes psycho. But we're godly men. We all pretty much wanna be a good partner for a sister. Either God is setting us up to enjoy sumpthin' phenomenal, or we wouldn't be able to handle thangs here on Earth any other way, and we gotta deal with it."

"Depressing," Mr. Xavier frowned as Bumpy Johnson walked away from all he loved, all that betrayed him, into pouring rain and unknown territory.

"Not that bad," Mr. Singleton smiled. "Not bad as Heavy D's last album."

Groans all around, the gathering broke up. They went out into chilly, starless Los Angeles night, to empty homes with damage under control ... for now ...