I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of opportunists trying to normalize negative behaviors. For years now we’ve been privy to all sorts of foolishness that has propagated the lie that being a rich man’s play thing is the easiest way to financial security.

I mean, if we are to believe the “Housewives,” “Basketball” (ex) “Wives,” and all manner of reality shows that depict women behaving badly, being a jump-off (or the ex of somebody famous) pays.

Only it doesn’t; at least not for most women.

If it did, these ladies wouldn’t be whoring themselves to the TV cameras in rented luxury cars and leased homes, flaunting their “wealth” to the masses. If being a jump-off truly led to financial security, we wouldn’t need to hear about it, see it, or even know they were “escorts” to some of their city’s richest and morally questionable men (peace to Marlo). And yet, they keep trying to convince us that being little more than a sexual toy is the way to go.

Enter The Real Mistresses of Atlanta, a visual monstrosity concocted by music producer and Pro Style Gel spokesman Memphitz. Apparently, he felt that our already overcrowded airways weren’t quite ratchet enough and he needed to drag us down yet another notch. Sensing that he could capitalize on our willingness to watch mind-numbing drama, Memphitz is currently trying to sell a show that gives us an inside look at some of Atlanta’s most in-demand mistresses (which, in the A, predictably includes a guy).

While the majority of the cast is black, the token white woman comes out guns blazing when she asks, “Who wants to f-ck a black p—sy?” and explains that black men love her … because she’s white. How cute.

Don’t get me wrong. I understand that the “other woman” has been profiting off her status for a while. In ideal mistress situations she may have gotten an apartment, a filled closet, and a few pieces of bling for her on-demand services, but in most cases, the scenario is much less glamorous, involving a bucket of chicken and gas money if she’s lucky.

You see, by constantly glamorizing this behavior and bringing it to the light, we are signaling to young women that it’s perfectly normal to sell yourself for a man’s attention so long as he gives you something of value in the process. We are telling them it’s OK to come second or third and jump to his every command so long as he breaks you off a little change in the end.

But it’s not OK. We all know it. And while some of these women are certainly getting over, the price they pay for losing their dignity, being treated like doormats, and giving up their self-respect to the highest bidder just doesn’t seem worth it.

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