If only Britney would make the right choice - Once she goes black...

Readers of this column should know by now that the main reason I came to L.A. was I’m convinced that Britney Spears and I were destined to be together. Sure, I’m crazy about her (who isn’t?), but I really think she would like me. And I could see our relationship progressing to a place where we become one of those couples that everybody hates because they’re so obviously in love with each other.

Recently, however, I’ve been a little upset with her. I understood the Justin thing (they were just kids in love), and I was willing to overlook her chaotic Federline period (because it gave us Small Fry and Tater Tot). But her fling with Adnan Ghalib, the married British photographer, was tougher to forgive. I get that he was a familiar face because he spent two years following her around; and I get that by holding doors and pumping gas for her, he became the nicest wolf in the pack of paparazzi wolves surrounding her all day and night. I just don’t get how he could be so stupid that he would get caught shopping bad semi-nude shots of her (that no magazine outside of Australia even wanted). First of all, how do you take a bad semi-nude photo when Britney is the subject? Secondly, when an international pop star who takes home over $750k per month trusts you enough to let you (ahem) inside, why would you betray her for money? This question and others (like why would a Muslim wear two crucifixes?) will dog him for a long time, I’m sure.

My original, post-Federline plan was to be the man who took care of all of her needs so that she could concentrate on recording and performing her music. I’d arrange her schedule, hire the drivers, gardeners, and nannies, and make sure she didn’t have a care in the world. As arm candy, I would escort her anywhere she wanted to go. As a caring partner, I would listen to her complain about her problems at work and offer her my opinions over intimate dinners or gentle foot massages. Then we would turn in, make the beast with two backs, and do it all over again the next day.

In the past few months, however, I’ve come to realize she doesn’t need me for all that - she has Sam Lutfi. I don’t know where he came from or how he got the job, but he’s the one who takes care of her day-to-day requirements in terms of travel, logistics, and planning. And, as Adnan Ghalib recently discovered when he found out that there may or may not be a restraining order preventing him from coming within 500 feet of her, Sam also approves or disapproves private time with my Britney. I’m a little jealous of Sam, but I ain’t mad at him. Somebody has to look out for her, and it might as well be him. Sam also understands that there is another side to our girl that comes out when she puts on that pink wig - and pink wig Britney has needs. He also knows his limitations in terms of meeting those needs. He’s not the best-looking guy in the world and he probably can’t dance; and we all know that pink wig Britney’s weaknesses are good-looking guys, guys who can dance, and especially good-looking guys who can dance.

That’s where I come in. A few days ago, Sam and Britney were at her car in a Ralph’s parking lot or something and someone off-camera said something to my Britney in public that I’ve been saying in private for a long time, “you need a black dude.” When I look back at what happened next, I think it could end up being the defining moment in my romantic life. My Britney repeated the statement in the form of a question, “I need a black dude?” But she did it with the kind of laugh that said, “that’s not a bad idea.” More importantly, Sam Lutfi doesn’t immediately disapprove. In fact, he smiles at her and laughs – which makes me think he might actually go for it. Then she says the words I’ve been longing to hear since I got to L.A., “shit, I like black dudes. You guys are cool.”

So here we are. She’s single and I’m single. She likes good-looking guys who can dance and I am a good-looking guy who can dance. She thinks black dudes like me are cool and I think white girls like her are hot. She’s got that pink wig and a body built for sin and I have a talent for keeping secrets and no plans for the weekend. It’s just crazy enough to work.