Playing Hard To Get

“Tasha, stop it!” Tamia warned.

“No, somebody needs to tell her. That sounds crazy. Non-crazy people don’t say things like ‘corrupt’ and ‘soul.’ Come on. Is this a séance? Where’s Whoopi?”

“Troy, where is all this coming from? What would make you think there’s a problem with you having sex with your husband?” Tamia asked.

“I know it’s not those women in that group!” swore Tasha.

“Well, Sister Glover says that—” Troy tried.

“Sister Glover? She’s still in the group?” Tamia looked at Troy. When the Virtuous Women was started, long before Troy joined the church, the position of president was held by the First Lady of the church. When Kyle took over and he was unmarried, Sister Glover volunteered her services. “I thought for sure she was going to leave when you took over.”

“Well, I haven’t exactly done that.”

“What?” Tasha wasn’t sure about what Tamia and Troy were talking about, but it sounded bad and she was on her third glass of wine, so she jumped right in. “Why haven’t you done that?”

“She’s helped me so much—with my Bible lessons and showing me how to lead a more Christian life,” Troy explained. “I can’t just drop her like that. And I’m not ready yet. I don’t know everything there is to know about the church. She’s helping me figure it all out.”

“Sounds like she’s also helping you mess up your marriage!” Tasha said.

“No, don’t say that,” Troy said. “Sister Glover has troubles like anyone else, but she’s a saved woman, and we should all be so lucky.”

“Snap out of it!” Tasha playfully snapped her fingers in front of Troy’s face. “Snap-out-of-it.”

“What are you talking about?” Troy asked.

“Girl, don’t you get tired of letting these chicks run they asses all over you?” Tasha asked. “I would think that being my friend for over ten years would’ve given you some backbone, but Troy, it seems like you like being a skank salad.”

“What’s a skank salad?” Tamia asked, shaking her head at Tasha’s attack.

“It’s the food that skanks eat before they enjoy the big steak—which is usually a man. Look, first Skank #1 Miata came in and took Julian, and now Sister Skank #2 is working on Kyle! And what are you doing about it? Writing some list down in a notebook.” Tasha threw the prayer pad over the bar.

“I need that.” Troy desperately reached for the notebook, but a rushing bartender mistakenly squashed it to a soggy mess.

“No, you need a clue. In fact, we all do,” Tasha said. “You want to have sex with the man one minute, then you don’t. And you, Tamia, you don’t want the man around one minute and then you do. What’s going on?” She looked from Tamia to Troy on either side of her. “We need to stop doing all of this complaining and take control of our lives. It’s not all about these men. It’s about us. We’re the 3Ts, not the three lames. And look at us. We’re out of control.”

Troy watched as another bartender stumbled over her notebook.

“You’re right, Tasha,” she said. “Help me, Jesus, but sometimes I do feel I’m out of control. I just don’t know what to do.”

“I do,” Tasha said. “We need to do a check-in, check-up, and check-out.”

“A Queen Bee Competition?” Tamia and Troy’s eyes glowed at the thought of the competitive sport the Ts played in undergrad to get through midterms and exam weeks. The Queen Bee Competition was how they kept one another in check, making sure the hard work they were supposed to be doing was actually getting done. No big talk without action. In one notebook, they’d check in by recording a list of goals and check up each week to see who had achieved at least some of those goals. At the end of the competition, they’d check out by seeing who’d done the most stuff and she’d be crowned the Queen Bee. The prize back then was a free dinner, but s

ince they’d long surpassed undergraduate budgets, they’d been trading Kate Spades instead.

“I can’t do all of that,” Tamia said, looking at her watch. “I have a new client…and I’m just swamped.”

“Great, then there’s no better time,” Tasha said. “No more complaining. We need to act.” She waved down the bartender and asked him to hand her the notebook she’d just tossed on the floor. “Now let’s see what goals we can write down. And who will be named the new Queen Bee of the 3Ts!”

Crowning the Queen Bee: A Little Competition Never Hurts

The difference between a dreamer and a doer is a magical word called “action.” The difference between a friend and a sisterfriend is a magical word called “support.” When you throw these two miraculous words together, in any situation, every sistergirl is bound to come out on top. No one can support you actively pursuing your dreams like your sisterfriends. They hug you and hold you through the process, and when they catch you slipping, they have the loving nerve to say, “Hey, sistergirl, weren’t you supposed to (ENTER YOUR DREAM HERE)?”

Put this recipe for success to the test by getting some of your sisterfriends together for a little active competition. Breathe life into your dreams by openly sharing with your sisterfriends the smaller steps to achieving them and resuscitate theirs by listening and loving. The goal of the Queen Bee Competition is accountability and bragging rights. The sisterfriend who achieves the most action is the winner, and the other sisters get to say they helped her reach her goal, and continue to work on their own.

Rules of Engagement

The Check-In: Gather your sisterfriends around to chat about the things you want to do, and discuss what small things you can do to get there. For example, if you want to become the next hot ballroom dancer, it might seem impossible, but sharing smaller goals, like finding a decent class and saving $30 a week to be able to afford the class, might seem more doable. Record all of your big and small goals on a sheet of paper, date it, and agree to meet a short while (a week or a month) later.