Like everyone else, you were excited to see Black Panther. You’ve been waiting for it for years, got excited for the trailers and even read all of the newer Ta-Nehisi Coates- and Roxane Gay- and Yona Harvey-penned comic books. And while you didn’t go full Wakandan cosplay for the premiere, you did wear all black. Even copped a beret from the beret-copping store. And of course, you loved the film. Couldn’t stop raving about it. Even plan to see it again next weekend.

Your girlfriend, whom you saw it with, loved it, too. And she’s also planning to see it again. Not with you, though—with her girlfriends. They planned an entire evening, actually. The movie and then group massages. Which is great, you guess, that women are also very interested in Black Panther. And understandable, with the strong female characters and feminist themes throughout the film. It’s just kinda odd to you that on that type of girls’ night out, they’d get the massages after the movie. Like the viewing experience is so intense that they needed some deep-tissue care afterward.


Your suspicions grew yesterday when you saw her making Wakandan doodles in a notebook. You had no idea she knew Wakandan. Shit, you didn’t even know she had notebooks! And then you checked the Twitter profile of her friend Keisha. And saw that she changed her screen name from “Keesh the Scientist” to “Wakandan Mouth Party.” And her timeline is filled with retweets of college photos of Winston Duke.

Unfortunately, your girlfriend and her friends—like many others—have caught Wakandan fever. It’s not your fault, really, that you’re spending your days replying to emails, ordering from Uber Eats and playing in coed dodgeball leagues while these Wakandan niggas are wrestling topless on cliffs, living on mountaintop thrones, riding rhinoceroses, wearing skintight panther suits, flying spaceships and saying things like “Hey, Auntie.” You’d wrestle a nigga on a cliff, too, if cliffs were available in your neighborhood.

Sadly, the clifflessness of your life just isn’t exciting anymore. Also, although you had muscles in college, telling your girl you “had muscles in college” only goes so far when diesel Wakandans are on Imax screens.


Fortunately, this Wakandan fever isn’t the end of the world for you, as there are a couple things to keep in mind, including:

1. All of the Wakandan men with speaking parts were taken.

T’Challa only has eyes for Nakia. We didn’t see M’Baku’s wife/queen, but he surely has one because he has children and definitely ain’t making all of those vegan dishes himself. Someone in the family has to go to Trader Joe’s, and it’s not gonna be his grunting ass. Even Erik Killmonger had #ThiefBae. Of course, they, um, broke up, but he’s dead now, so it doesn’t matter.


2. You exist; they don’t.

Sure, the Wakandas are saving the world and visiting the ancestors and wearing gold chains in Oakland, Calif., but did they make your girl that bomb-ass quiche last weekend? Nope! Did they cop her that sleeveless bubble vest from Patagonia so she’d be snug and comfy while jogging? Nope! Does King T’Challa know about that spot on the inside of her right knee? Nope!

So yeah, man. Don’t worry too much. You still have mad advantages. Tons of advantages. So many advantages.


Actually, you only have two advantages. But that’s better than no advantages! I don’t know, man. Just have some essential oil on hand for when her fever finally breaks. I don’t know what you’d use it for, but I’ve heard it’s always good to have around.