Don’t judge a book by its cover

I’m on my way to the mall with some of my friends. We are walking downtown and we hear some men trying to talk to us, but we just keep on walking like we don’t hear nothing. My friends and I are just talking to each other. I don’t like those men that don’t know how to cook or that don’t help you with your bags. Because when I get older I will need somebody there to help with the stuff I need. I will love a good man like that. My future man will be like a shining ring. He will be handsome. Not these bum-ugly men out here—that’s not my type. When I hear guys on the streets saying, “Hi mamas, you’re so pretty. Can I get your number? I’m trying to be with you,” that makes me feel like they harassing me. And I don’t like that. My brothers don’t even act like that. They know better than that. That’s why I love them so much.

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