“Why you always gotta catch an attitude with me when I ask you a question?”
“Because you be asking stupid questions.”
He just stares at me. I don’t want to argue with him today. I start to wonder if he waited out here for me all night. He’s either really stupid or he’s really in love with me.
“Let me take you out to get something to eat,” he says.
“I already ate.”
“So, let’s go for a ride.”
“I’m too tired.”
“Damn, so what the fuck do you wanna do?”
“Right now? Get the fuck away from you,” I rudely respond. I walk away from him, storm into the house and slam the door behind me. Seeing him right now is not an option for me. I peep out the window. He’s still standing there, sulking and looking miserable. I remember back in the day when we were together, if I would have played him like this, he would’ve cursed me out and tried to slap the shit out of me; it would have been seen as totally disrespecting him. Now he’s acting like a straight-up pussy. Damn, is his heart really that broken from our break-up? He’s the one who felt we should be separated for a while because he wanted to fuck with other bitches.
My moms comes into the living room. “Jakim came by for you last night,” she says.
“I know.”
She sees me staring at him through the window. She gives me an unpleasant look and goes back to her business. Then my Aunt Tina comes out in her robe. “Jakim came looking for you last night.”
“I know!” I spit.
“Well, damn…you need to give the niggah some pussy. You can’t be letting your man starve out there. He’ll go eat somewhere else,” she warns.
“He’s not my man; he’s my ex—get it straight!”
“You get it straight, bitch! You keep teasing his head like that and he’ll bite you and go find comfort somewhere else,” she continues.
What the fuck does she know? Aunt Tina can’t hold down a man her damn self. And she can’t keep her legs closed long enough to be in my business. She got dumped three times this year.
I walk to my room, peel off my clothing and then go and take a long, hot shower. Tyrone calls me before nightfall. He wants to see me. Damn, I just came from his crib. He apologizes for skipping out on me earlier. He says he had to take care of some business. I tell him that I’ll see him tomorrow. I’m tired and not leaving this house any time soon. I need some rest. He’s pretty upset. He wants to finish what we started earlier. It’s tempting, but I tell him no and that’s that.
Sasha gives me a call around ten. She tells me that she just found out about a party tonight, and she wants me to come along so she won’t have to roll alone with Cell and his friend. I tell her no. I don’t go out with muthafuckas I’ve never seen or met before. Next thing you know, you’re going out with a big, black, nasty, toothless muthafucka who thinks he’s all that and wants to stay trying to get up in your drawers. She begs and pleads, and says that his friend is real cute. But if a bitch is that desperate, she’ll say anything about the next guy just to have you tagging along.
Cell is the same bouncer who helped us get in the club a few weeks back after Sasha offered him that favor later on. And she did grant it, she tells me. They went out to his truck in the parking lot, and she sucked him off real good. She said for a big dude, his dick didn’t match the rest of his body. He was feeling her so much afterwards, that he passed her his home and cell-phone numbers and begged her to call. She gave him her number as well, and she actually did call him.
“Why?” I ask.
“That niggah might have a small dick, but his tongue is wicked!” That’s her. I personally like for a man to come with the full package.
After listening to her beg, plead and say that she’ll owe me, I give in. She says she’ll be at my crib in an hour. She’s lucky she’s my girl.
I go over to my closet and look for something to wear—a closet full of clothes, and I can’t decide what to put on tonight. I throw on my animal print mini skirt, black stockings, a black, low-cut, keyhole-neck top with flare sleeves and my ankle strapped black pumps. As usual, I’m careful to apply just the right make-up and the right amount of perfume; you never know whether or not you’ll meet a cutie at the club. I look at myself in the mirror. I’m looking too fine.
About an hour later, I hear a horn blowing outside. It has to be Sasha. I walk to the door, open it and see her standing outside. A white Escalade is parked in front of my house. I see two silhouettes in the truck. “You ready?” she asks.
“I see you came early this time,” I say looking at her outfit. She’s wearing a very tight, blue, strapless stretch Ottoman dress and blue pumps.
I pull her into the house, and the first thing I say is, “Got-damn, girl. Where did you get that stink, tight, hoochie mama dress? You look like a fucking tramp.”
“Yeah, but Cell thinks it’s cool. G-i-r-r-l, he got money. He took me out to his crib in Long Island. That muthafucka got a four-bedroom house with a swimming pool in the back.”
“You fucked him already, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, he got a little piece of it.”
“Damn….”
Before I’m able to say anything else, she hits me with, “You can’t say shit, Shana. I’m not the one fucking my ex’s best friend. You wrong, bitch!”
“I’m wrong? I’m looking out for you tonight. Don’t forget that,” I add. “I don’t know why….”
“His friend was asking about you. He wants to meet you and shit.”
“What? I don’t even know his friend…Sasha you run your mouth too fucking much,” I tell her.
“I ain’t said shit about you to him; Cell was bragging his mouth off about you. Then he put me on the spot, asking me to hook his friend up with you.”
“Is he cute?” I ask with much concern.
“He’s cool,” she says, sounding not so assuring.
“Ill! I got a fucking pit bull waiting for me outside, right?”
“No! Go chat with him…homeboy pushin’ a Lexus,” she adds.
I want to turn away from this so-called, double-blind date Sasha’s planned. I know he’s ugly just from the tone of her voice when she described him to me; she didn’t sound so excited about the guy. But I’m a woman of my word, and I promised to come with her.
We walk out together toward the truck. I desperately try to see inside the window, to get a better glance at my doomed blind date. “Promise to be nice to him, Shana,” Sasha pleads. But that’s a promise I know I can’t keep; if he doesn’t attract me, why be nice? I believe in getting shit out the way fast, let a brotha know the situation between him and me: I’m not interested! Plain and simple.
As we get closer to the truck, Cell steps out from the driver’s side and walks up to the both of us. Ee-ill…he looks different from the other night. I didn’t realize that he was so ugly up close in good light. His face looks fat and swollen, and his lips protrude more than I thought they did—especially the bottom one. He has a weak fade and his gear is totally off balance; he’s wearing black slacks, alligator shoes and a tight, bright yellow, muscle shirt. Muscle shirts are not sexy!
His arms are large, but so is his gut. And to think, Sasha actually gave him some head and fucked him. “How you doing?” he asks. His voice is loud and raspy, and he sounds retarded. He stares at me, making me feel uncomfortable.
A few seconds later, his friend steps out from the back seat of the truck. He looks