DM was tall. He had caramel skin and out of his lanky gray-haired body, boomed a voice that was a mixture of Metatron - the angelic speaker for God, barber shop wisdom and feral tiger.
Not the zoo type of big cat but one that had a bad tooth and prone to wholesale slaughter.
"Boy," and that was DM's normal salutation. He would call me by name but when wisdom was coming, much like a burning bush or a divine annunciation, the word "boy" would drawl out with booming herald. "Let me tell you something, every woman in your life needs to feel like she is the most important woman in your life right then and there."
He elaborated. "If you're talking to your wife, in the room with her - all your attention is on her. If you're in the room with your sister, all your attention is on her. Your mother, your daughter, so on and so on."
I nodded. The giant's words rang out and down upon me with a layer of wisdom that, if I could survive the deafening delivery, would make me far smarter than what I was.
But a quandary popped into my small rat brain.
"But DM, what if I'm in the room with more than one woman?"
He smiled. And this old sage could revert to a young devil in a heart's beat.
"Leave the room.”