by M. T. Pope
My laughter turned into tears as I walked in the bedroom and replayed the scene in my head once again. But they too would not last long. I was done with men for a while and I meant it this time. No relapses. I immediately cleaned my kitchen and bedroom, and afterward I went online to order me a new mattress set from The Room Store. There was no way I was going to sleep on the one they fucked on. It just wasn’t going to happen. I grabbed me some blankets and a pillow from my closet and slept on my living room sofa. Tomorrow would be the beginning of a new way of life for me. A fresh start.
Chapter 8
Lewis
One Step at a Time
“What the hell have I done to deserve such loneliness?” I mumbled to myself as I sat inside of a Starbucks. Shit, I didn’t have anyone else to talk to and I couldn’t have cared less who thought I was crazy right now. A few nosy neighbors at other tables looked at me curiously as I nursed my white mocha chocolate coffee, but all I did was stare at them back until they looked in other directions. I was not for it. I looked around the room at all of the people who were with, I assumed, their dates or significant others, and I sighed in disgust.
I was on my lunch break and all I wanted to do was get out of the office for a few minutes and get my mind off of men. But like drug addicts, men were everywhere. Tall, short, thick, sloppy, muscular, white, black, Asian; I’d fuck any one of them in a bathroom stall if it meant that it would lead to a promising relationship. But I knew that was the thinking that got me in situations I had previously been in and gotten out of.
I guessed all the good men were in jail or straight. And the ones out here all wanted sugar daddies. I wasn’t about to father any man. I wanted a man who was readymade, not a Mr. Potato Head I had to put together when I got him. Hell nah!
“Can I sit down here with you?” a strong and masculine voice spoke from above.
I almost looked up and asked, “Is that you, Lord?” but I knew better. “Huh?” I looked up at him, confused and caught in the smell of his bodacious cologne. I knew the scent well; it was The One by Dolce & Gabbana. It was one of my favorites. He was a very good-looking guy. Well dressed, tailored suit. Close-cut hair. Dark, dark chocolate skin. My eyes drifted closed as if I were lulled by a sweet song or dream.
“Excuse me, are you okay?” His voice brought me back.
“Oh, Lord, you must think I’m crazy.” Embarrassment covered my face like a snug blanket in the winter.
“No, for a second I thought you were high. I was about to ease on over to another table and act as if I didn’t say anything to you in the first place.” He laughed a little and so did I.
“Yes, you can have a seat.” I watched as he took a seat and scooted close to the table. He had a drink and a scone in his hand. They too smelled good. “I’m sorry about that. It’s been a rough day for me.”
“That’s no problem at all. We all have rough days. And sometimes Baltimore doesn’t make it easier.” I lingered on his every word like a snake being hypnotized by a snake charmer. I even liked the way that he formed his words when he talked. He was a thoroughbred for sure. “Sometimes a quiet moment away from it all is all that is needed to get back some sense of wholeness, even in a crowded room.”
“Yes, that is true.” I still spoke with a little bit of gloom in my voice.
“So what has gotten you sounding so gloomy today?” he asked as he sipped on his coffee. His pinky finger didn’t stick out like I hoped it would. It was one of those Gaydar triggers. A Pinky in the air says he just might be sticking his ass in the air. I didn’t know why I automatically thought a man wanted me or was gay whenever he paid me the slightest bit of attention. I needed to calm the hell down and just enjoy his company and not have any expectations.
“I don’t want to be rude but, why are you asking me about my problem like you really care?” I looked at him sternly. I didn’t mean to turn the tables on him or even blindside him. I was just curious about his motives.
“Well, I was genuinely concerned about another human being and I am a therapist for a living. I know the signs of someone in need of help.”
“Oh, okay.” I looked down for a second, embarrassed again because I was always shooting off my mouth without thinking.
“It’s all right to be defensive, but it becomes a problem when you choose to stay that way. We all need help in life. We just need to be strong enough to accept that help or ask for help. Many people are crazy out here now because they didn’t and wouldn’t seek help when the small signs showed up.”
“Yeah, it’s some crazies out here now.” I chuckled a little.
“Yes, and now all you have to do when you are alone is ask yourself if you want to go crazy because of pride, or seek the help that you need.” He looked at me seriously.
“I hope you don’t think you are getting paid for this session in Starbucks.” I laughed. He did too.
“No, this is on the house. God gave me a gift and pays me for that gift. I am going to share it with anyone paid or unpaid.”
“I do . . .” I spoke.
“Excuse me?” He looked at me, confused.
“I said, ‘I do.’” I laughed.
“I do what?” he asked.
“I was just practicing for my wedding day. . .” I smiled.
“So that is what you are worried about . . . relationships?” he asked.
“Well, yeah. Isn’t that what we are all looking for: love and companionship?” I asked.
“You are missing one important ingredient: friendship. All relationships begin with friendship but most start with lust and sex. Following the steps in life is the key to a successful and meaningful relationship, both plutonic and matrimonial,” he answered.
“You really got all of this down don’t you?” I sat back in my chair, folded my arms, and waited for his answer.
“No, I’m human just like you, and I know that it is trial and error for each encounter we have with potential mates. But I do follow those guidelines as a way to navigate through life. But I get it wrong, too. I just don’t stop there though; I learn from my mistakes and try again. Just like you should when you are looking for a potential mate.”
“So you are saying I should be friends with someone first and then move on gradually in the process? No sex first?”
“That’s what I’m saying.” He nodded in agreement.
“So what evidence do you have to back this up?” I asked him.
“Turn toward the door,” he instructed me. I did as I was instructed to do. “That was my reward for patience and starting out friends. She is my life and all I need. Today I am about to propose to her and move forward,” he said as he got up out of his seat to greet her.
“Hey, baby.” She kissed him on his cheek and then looked at me. “Who is this well-dressed young man?”
“Oh, baby, this is . . .”
“Lewis, my name is Lewis.” I stood up and shook her hand. She was statuesque and gorgeous. She was beautiful. She had on a nice business suit that hugged her curves but gave enough room for movement. He had his hand around her waist. They looked like Barack and Michelle Obama standing in front of me.
“Well, Lewis, thank you for keeping Arthur company while he waited on me to get here.”
“No problem at all.” I smiled while jealousy enveloped me. “He is a very knowledgeable and helpful person. It was my pleasure.”
“The pleasure was mine as well.” He reached out to shake my hand.
“Thank you for the help. I will take what you said into consideration. One step at a time.”
“No problem,” he said to me and then turned to his wife-to-be. “Honey, can you find us a table by ourselves while I go to the little boys’ room?”
Like magic a table opened up, and she was seated, waiting for him to return. It didn’t take long for him to get back to her, and pretty soon she was screaming yes to his proposal to be his wife.
Sitting there watching gave me hope for my future, and now all I had to do was be patient an
d wait for my future to show up. Just like anyone else though, me and patience didn’t get along, but I was willing to try it out again. One more time.
Chapter 9
Kardell
Back to the Basics
It took me about a month to mourn the death of my love life. If that is what you want to call it, because there truly was no love involved. During this period of mourning I had moped around work and at home. I was like a dog with a limp and a slight whimper, totally helpless. I tried my best to focus on work and hope that the pain that I was feeling would subside. I also tried to numb it with eating out and intense shopping sprees. Just to return home alone. Well not completely alone; during my bereavement I would take walks during my lunch break. And while on one of my walks I passed a pet shop. Desperate for some kind of companionship I hesitantly went in to only “look” at a prospective furry roommate. After about an hour I was walking out of the establishment with an orange-colored kitten. He was adorable and we took to each other like magnets.
But he too was a temporary fix. I loved him (Grey), but I still longed for someone who would share my life. He had to cherish me and himself. He had to have self-respect and respect for others. A good job and be a family man. Was I asking for too much? For him to smother me with love and affection? Surprise getaways and gifts? Spontaneous lovemaking? Was that too much to ask? I didn’t think so. There had to be someone out there who could fill these qualifications. Where was he? I was bendable with some of these requirements, but I was tired of settling for less. I was not perfect, but I came from good stock. It was the American dream to have a prosperous career, own property, and having a decent, loving family. I had the career and I owned my home, but where in the hell in the world was my man at? Was he lost in traffic or on the other side of the country wondering where in hell I was? They say there is someone for everyone. I was beginning to believe that only people in relationships believed that shit. Because I had gone through at least a dozen and a half of no-good losers. And none of them came even close to being my “someone”; they were only “something” for the moment.
I thought on these things as I sat at a table eating alone at a Mexican/Latino restaurant, Pollo Lantern, in Fells Point, that I had been hearing about a lot lately. I was nursing my plate of Peruvian spiced chicken, which was a new yet exciting taste for me. I probably would be enjoying this meal even more if I had someone to share it with. I looked around at all the couples eating—male/male, female/female, and male/female—and immediately felt out of place. I was the only one there alone. It was as if everybody was staring at me so I hung my head in shame. I almost cried in my plate as I contemplated my loneliness and why I just couldn’t get a man and keep him.
“Is everything okay?” I heard a voice as I stirred my now-cold food. I slowly looked up, annoyed, and saw the most beautiful eyes staring back at me. Blue as the ocean on a Hawaiian coast. “Are you enjoying your meal?”
“Um . . . Ah . . . Yeah . . . It’s okay,” I stumbled and mumbled in an entranced gaze.
“Just okay?” he quizzed me with a hopeful look. “It’s our signature dish and it is just okay!” He looked offended. I looked at him like he had lost his mind. I was about to lose mine as well.
“Excuse me?” I said looking him up and down in what looked like a waiter’s uniform. “I think you need to move it to your next table before I make you eat your “signature dish.” I was not mad at him or offended, just not in the mood for anybody’s arrogance today.
A wide smile came across his face. He had the most beautiful smile a man could have. What was he smiling about? I was damn near breathing fire and his ass was standing here smiling like I said something funny. He pulled out a chair and sat down. Okay, I see what I am dealing with. It’s about that time. Time for my idiot of the month to show up and he’s about right on time.
“I am sorry if I offended you,” he said, still smiling. “I noticed you sitting out here all alone just playing in your food and I couldn’t take it any longer. I had to come over and see if I could get some kind of emotion out of you. Anger wasn’t the one I was going for, but it will do for now.”
“Ummm . . . humph,” I mumbled under my breath. He must have thought I was going to fall for his line. “My emotions and I are just fine and if you don’t mind we would like to be left alone.”
He chuckled as he got up and pushed the chair back under the table.
“You are so handsome and it is a shame to have to leave you here all alone.”
“Oh really, let’s see how it goes as you take a walk to your next table. I am sure I’ll be just fine. Good day,” I said, sending him on his way. He just shook his head and walked away. Good riddance. Another jackass bites the dust. I was getting a knack for reflecting off the losers.
I stayed around for another fifteen minutes or so and watched the waiter and the way he worked his tables. He was very attentive toward his customers. Refilling cups, bringing fresh rolls, and other various tasks. He now had me feeling like I was the jackass. Maybe I should have been a little easier on him. Just taking a look back on the past month I was taking my anger out on any stranger and it was not called for at all. I snapped at the coffee house guy about two weeks ago for not putting cinnamon in my cappuccino. And a couple of days before that, I was getting ice cream at Baskin-Robbins and told the cashier off because she was moving too slowly. She broke down in tears right then and there. I was out of control and I needed to get a grip.
As I got up and left I saw the waiter coming my way. I waved him over. He still had the smile on his face. He couldn’t be this happy all the time.
“Was everything okay here at Pollo Lantern and will you be joining us again?”
“Why yes, I will . . . And . . . ahhh . . . I just wanted to apologize for being short with you earlier.” I had a regretful look on my face. “It was so unnecessary for me to treat you that way when you were only doing your job.”
“Ahh, no problem,” he said, waving his hand. “We all have our bad days.”
“Also,” I continued, “I run an advertising company and if your boss needs any marketing done I would love to help him out, at a discounted rate of course.” I said, pulling out one of my cards and handing it to him, “Your service skills were phenomenal and I will be sure to tell my friends.”
I shook his hand and as he shook mine he started to rub his thumb across the top of my hands. It had been a minute, but I knew he was flirting. I pulled away quickly, knowing I was off of men for a while and any longer I would have making out with him in the bathroom or something.
“I’ll see you later,” I said, letting out a slight smile. “And don’t forget to give your boss my card.”
“He’ll get it. I’ll make sure of it,” he said, smiling again, showing that spectacular smile.
Chapter 10
Lewis
Home Again
It was the weekend and I was in Philadelphia today visiting my family. It wasn’t a holiday, but once in a while my parents would call us all to come home and have a family evening getting caught up on each other’s lives. Basically, they wanted to be nosey and they wanted us to spill the drama that was going on in our lives. We all knew what the deal was when we got there so we each played our parts and gave our parents a nice good scare. It was all in fun and we usually told the truth at the end if we could hold in the laughter from the looks on their faces as we supposedly spilled our guts. They fell for this every time we did this. You would think they would have caught on by now. My parents were so plain and boring that it made no sense.
This evening my brother and sister went first and second, and now it was my turn, and I was ready to go all out and give my charade the best that I had.
“So, Lewis, honey, what’s been going on in your life? Your father and I worry about you the most. You don’t call us like you used to do when you first moved away.” My mother was a beautiful lady. She was plump around the middle and her height was about the same as mine. She was soft-spoken most
of the time but when she gave a directive you had better follow it to the T. My parents weren’t physical discipliners. They both were very vocal in their approach to how we as children, their children, needed to act and be in private and public settings.
But, like most children, we had all tried our hand and were dealt with swiftly.
“Well, Ma . . . Dad . . .” I paused for dramatic effect. “I don’t know how to say this. I just don’t know . . . how. I mean I still can’t believe it today. I am just at a loss for words,” I stammered effortlessly.
“Find the words and spill it out, son.” My father spoke sternly.
“Well . . .” I put my head down for dramatic effect. I heaved a little and let my shoulders slouch. I was giving it my all. “You’re going to be grandparents . . . twice.”
“What? . . . But I thought you were . . .” My mother’s voice trailed off as she turned and looked at my father in bewilderment. I could almost see a smile creeping up at the corners of his mouth.
Then it came, the sounds of thunderous laughter from my brother and sister. My parents looked on in confusion.
“What’s so funny?” my father asked in total seriousness. I almost regretted going through with it. When I discussed this with brother and sister on the way up they both agreed that I would be pushing it with this prank but that they would go along with it while I performed the joke as long as I went along with theirs. My brother told them that he was dating my mother’s oldest and dearest friend and she might be pregnant. My mother’s friend was over fifty and recently divorced. The look on my mother’s face was priceless. And my sister told my father that she had slept with a few of her college professors to get the A’s that she had gotten. My father was so pissed that he got up from the table and walked out of the dining room. He was gone for at least ten minutes before he came back in and she told him it was all a joke and that she only did one professor and that it was a female. She eventually told him it was all a lie and my brother and I laughed it off, but we knew that my father was going to investigate if he could.
