Another Man Will

by Daaimah S. Poole

  “What about the couple of thousand I put toward the down payment and the money I put up for the kitchen? You can’t keep that money, too.”

  “Vette, I don’t want to talk about this anymore. You have to leave, and I don’t need you causing a scene.”

  “Please help me, Phil. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t have any money; I don’t have anything.”

  He just shook his head, as if he didn’t have any control over anything.

  “So you really are going to let me sink. You’d rather see me fall than help me.” I cried more and sobbed louder, still hoping to get a different reaction out of him.

  Instead he yelled, “I don’t care either way, and you need to get out of here.” His yelling infuriated me. I couldn’t pretend any longer.

  “I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t a thief.”

  “Don’t call me a thief.”

  “That’s what you are if you take something that is not yours. What does that make you? A real man does not steal from a woman, only one with female tendencies. You fucking bitch.” I was furious, and I wanted my money.

  “Listen, I don’t have anything for you. You can get out of here with all of your nonsense. And don’t come back up here, because next time I’m going to call the cops on you.”

  Phil left me standing there and boarded his bus and took off. I walked back to my car, feeling even more frustrated than when I arrived. I didn’t know how I was going to take care of anything. Just thinking about my situation I became angrier and angrier, and I felt like I had to do something to him and now. I got in my car and caught up to his bus. He was going to give me mine and now. I had tried the nice way. Now he was going to pay up or get fucked up. I followed his bus a few stops. Passengers were boarding the bus and getting off.

  I wasn’t sure what I was going to do. I was thinking about pulling in front of his bus and blocking it from traveling, but he could possibly go around me. I decided to pull over. I threw my car into park, hit the locks on the doors, and sprinted over to the bus. An elderly couple was exiting the back of the bus, and when they got off, I hopped on. A few people were looking at me as if to say, “Why is this lady sneaking on the bus?” I didn’t care anymore if anyone was looking or listening. Phil was looking at me through his rearview mirror. He shook his head and told me to get off the bus.

  “I’ll get off this bus when you give me my money, you crook. You are going to give me my money, now Phil or else.”

  “Vette, get the hell off my bus before I call the police.”

  “Call the cops! I dare you. So I can tell them to lock your ass up.”

  “I’m warning you, Yvette.”

  “Fuck your warning, Phillip. How about I tell all your passengers how you stole my damn money, you bitch. Huh? Or tell them how you smoke weed every day. Call the police so I can tell them to give your ass a drug test. I know you still roll up every weekend. Excuse me, everybody on the number fifty-two bus. I’m sorry y’all have to start y’all’s morning like this, but I need to let everyone know that your driver, Phillip McKnight, is a drug addict and a thief, and he likes to date girls that are barely legal—so that makes him a borderline pervert, too. He owes me twenty-five thousand dollars and he needs to pay or I’m going to whoop his ass right now.”

  One lady was on my side, she said that wasn’t right. But most of the passengers weren’t interested or amused; they just wanted to get to work on time. I became a little apprehensive when I saw a girl pull out her cell phone and start recording, but unfortunately, it didn’t stop me from causing a scene. I began walking toward Phil.

  “That’s it. I’m calling the police.” He pulled the bus over and pulled out his cell phone.

  “Call them, you punk ass. You want me off this bus, then give me what you owe me.” People were still looking, and I was getting closer to him.

  He must have seen the anger in my eyes, because once I was a few feet away, he said, “Don’t do anything you will regret,” and got ready to block a punch, which he knew I would throw at any moment.

  “I’m not going to regret anything. I don’t give a fuck. I’m going to show you I’m not playing with you. I want my money. I should have known better then to have married you. Your mother and father ain’t shit. So why did I expect any better of you.” I lifted my hand and let my palm make contact with the bridge of his nose. The smack was so loud, the entire bus jumped. He ducked in the corner of his driver’s seat, making sure not to hit me back or allow me another good shot.

  I got in a few kicks and punches before I heard sirens. I didn’t want to get arrested, so I pressed the button to open the door and ran back to my car. I saw an ambulance, not a police car, going the other way, but I was still scared and got the hell out of there.

  I knew Phil’s punk ass was going to call everyone and tell them I had lost my mind and needed to be put away, and I was right, because my father called me, screaming, “What the hell is wrong with you, Vette? I just got a call from Phil, and he said you came to his job and slapped and kicked him.”

  “I didn’t, Dad. He is lying.”

  “You can’t be acting like this. Why would you go to that man’s job and start all that trouble?”

  “He deserved it. He owes me.”

  “Well, I hope it is all worth it, because when I was on the phone with him, he was talking to the police. You better pray they don’t come and lock you up.”

  “Daddy, I don’t care. He took my money.”

  “Yvette, forget about that money. Is twenty-five thousand worth you going to jail? Leave that man alone. If you go to jail, you won’t have anything. I know you are mad, but you can’t go and get your own revenge. You have to put this in God’s hands. Let him go and do whatever he is going to do, and be sure that God is keeping score.”

  My dad was steady preaching about God and all these other churchy things, which I was not trying to hear. I was so angry, and I had to calm myself down before I bought a gun and killed him. Phil was going to give me mine or handle the penalties that came with playing with my livelihood. I was determined to get even, and I was going to do so by calling his job. If I wasn’t going to get my money, then he was going to lose his.

  I called the main number for SEPTA and asked for the human resources director’s office. I was transferred to his assistant. A cheery voice answered, and I started to give up all the information, true or not, I had on Phil.

  “Yes, I would like to report a driver, Phillip McKnight. Uh, he’s a driver on the number fifty-two bus. I’m just a concerned person and don’t want to see any innocent passengers get hurt. So I just wanted to report that he is an alcoholic and is on crack cocaine and smokes a lot of marijuana. I would drug test him immediately.”

  “Okay. You said his name was what?”

  “Phillip McKnight. He drives the number fifty-two bus.”

  “Okay. Thank you for your concern. We will look into this.”

  “Yes, you’re welcome, because I know he is a ton of lawsuits waiting to happen.”

  After the call I felt a little better. Bitch, you are fired, too, I thought. Now all I needed was to figure out a way to get my money back.

  CHAPTER 14

  Dana

  Reshma walked into my office, upset, and was flustered when she spoke. Her speech was very fast, and it was hard to understand what exactly she was saying.

  “I can’t take her anymore. She doesn’t do her job. I don’t understand.”

  “What’s wrong, Reshma?”

  “That intern, Courtney. She broke the copier and then she left early, and we need copies and pamphlets made for tomorrow’s meeting with Connelly Brothers. And I really don’t want to ruin someone’s internship. I know she needs to get credit, but I’m about to report her. I can’t take it.”

  “Calm down. I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry. On my way home, I’ll stop at that big copy center on Fortieth Street.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked, relieved.

  “Yeah,
I’m sure. Relax, finish everything else up, and I’ll get here early and help you set up.”

  “Thank you so much. Still, Dana, we must do something about her.”

  After work I rushed over to the busy copy center. There were about five people ahead of me, and I needed the five hundred brochures expedited. Even though I had assured Reshma that it could be done, I was nervous. I stood in line patiently as the copier techs waited on other patrons. A well-groomed, light brown–skinned man with shades, wearing a black T-shirt and jeans, asked if I had been waiting long.

  “No, I just got here.”

  He looked down at his watch and said, “All I want to do is pick up my postcards. I’m not placing a new order.”

  “They seem like they are moving pretty fast.”

  “They need to move faster. I need to get to the airport. I have a client waiting for me. I have my own security company, and if they get off the plane and I’m not there, I’m going to have a problem.”

  “What kind of security company?”

  “My company does security for most of the nightclubs and big events in the city. Every time a celebrity comes to town they call me. Here. Take my card.”

  I read his card. UNTOUCHABLE SECURITY AND EVENTS—CEO & OWNER, GENE RICHARDS. I thanked him.

  “Do you have a card?”

  I handed him mine. He went up and said something to one of the copier guys, got his order, and smiled at me on his way out. Just out of curiosity I wanted to see what the CEO was driving. Not bad, I thought as he drove off in his black Range Rover.

  I didn’t think much of meeting Gene until he called me a few days later.

  “Hello, Dana. This is Gene. When can I take you somewhere nice?”

  “I don’t know, tell me what you had in mind?”

  “I wanted to take you to dinner. Maybe to Buddakan or maybe get seafood at McCormick & Schmick’s?”

  “How did you know they were two of my favorite restaurants? I think we can make that happen.”

  “Okay, then meet me at Buddakan tomorrow around six.”

  A little after six the next day I got a call from Gene saying he was sitting at this table by himself and for me to hurry up. Although Gene wasn’t my normal suit and tie type, I was still going to give him a chance. I appreciated that he was showing immediate interest. However, when I got to the restaurant, I didn’t like what he was wearing. Who went out of the house wearing a white T-shirt and basketball shorts and flip-flops? Why would he ask me to this nice restaurant and dress like he was about to go sit next to a pool? Damn, I was disappointed again. Gene was on a call when I sat down. I ordered a saketini and tasted one of the shrimp and scallop spring rolls sitting on the table. I overhead him discussing a meeting he had to attend after our date. He ended his call and then thanked me for coming and said I looked nice.

  “Thanks. So, where do you have to go after this?”

  “I have a meeting with this big financier that wants to invest in my company. As soon as we are done, I’m going to meet up with him.”

  “You’re not going to go home and change your clothes?” I asked looking his attire over again.

  “No, why should I. What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

  “I just wouldn’t go to a meeting dressed like that.”

  “Dressed like what?” he said, looking at his white outfit.

  “Never mind. Forget it.”

  “I’m dressed fine. I can go anywhere in this city and get respect. It doesn’t matter what I’m wearing; people know who I am.”

  “Oh, okay,” is all I could muster out. This date was starting off badly. I shouldn’t have said anything. I couldn’t tell if he was offended or not. I didn’t say anything else about his pool outfit, but the date still went from bad to horrible. “I’m sure they will be very impressed with your business skills.”

  “Yeah, I know they will. I know how to talk business and what not. But let me ask you a question. When was the last time someone made your toes curl?”

  “I haven’t had my toes curl. It’s been a while.” What kind of stupid disgusting question was that, I thought.

  “I don’t believe you, because you answered that too fast. That’s how I know you are lying. I know somebody is making you feel good beating that thing up.”

  “No, I’m single.”

  “For real. All of that is going to waste. That’s a damn shame. You too fine not to have a man.”

  I tried to change the subject. “So, Gene, have you ever thought about maybe taking some classes and getting a degree in business? So you could learn how to expand your business, without investors.” Again I thought I was saying something positive but I got a negative reaction from Gene.

  “No. Why would I do that? My business is already making money.”

  “Well, it wouldn’t hurt.”

  “Yeah, I don’t need college. I made six figures last year without a degree.”

  “That’s impressive.”

  “Yeah, I bet it is. I probably make more than you.”

  “You might.” There was definitely some tension in the air. How did me suggesting he take some classes turn into an insult? I stopped talking, ordered my meal, and for the rest of the date I didn’t ask him any more questions. He didn’t even notice he was having a conversation by himself. I laughed at a few things that weren’t funny and agreed with him on things he was obviously wrong about. I could have left, but my grilled lamb chops and saketini were too good to leave.

  The check arrived, and I thought I had done a pretty good job of faking a date.

  Gene stood up, pulled out a big wad of hundreds and twenties, and said, “Well, Dana, it was nice meeting you. I can’t say it was the worst date, but I can’t say it was the best.” He threw down eighty dollars on the table. I looked down at the check. It was a $155.00 tab.

  “Gene, this bill is a hundred fifty-five dollars, and you only left eighty.”

  He looked down and said, “Oh, I did. I’m sorry. I didn’t leave the tip. Oh, and you can pay your own half.”

  “What? I don’t have any cash on me.”

  “Reach in your bag, and use one of those cards. Man, y’all stuck up bougie bitches all the same. Don’t worry about how I’m dressed. Worry about why you ain’t got no man.” Gene walked out the restaurant and I sat in disbelief. I didn’t understand what had just happened.

  The waiter came over to the table and asked if everything was all right.

  “Yes, it is,” I said, reaching in my bag and pulling out my wallet. I located my Visa card and paid the bill. I folded up the money and put it in my wallet. What an asshole, I thought.

  The waiter came back with the receipt. I signed my name and gave him a generous cash tip.

  “Thank you so very much, and do come again.”

  “I will. Thank you.” I stood up, and tears began to stream down my face. This was what I got for dating someone like him, a guy without enough class to dress right. I had to call someone and tell them about my date from hell.

  I dialed Tiffany as soon as I reached my car. I explained to her what had happened and she couldn’t believe it. She kept trying to make excuses for his bad behavior. “Maybe he didn’t have enough money on him and didn’t know how to tell you.”

  “No, he pulled out a big knot of money. Damn fake CEO. I’m getting so tired of this bullshit and all these crazy men,” I whimpered.

  “I know you are not crying over that crazy guy.”

  “No, I’m not crying over him.”

  “I can tell by your voice that you’re crying.”

  “I am crying, but not over him. I’m crying because if he and people like him are all that is left out here, I’m going to be single forever. You know he had the nerve to call me a stuck-up, bougie bitch and told me to go in my bag and grab my credit card and pay for my own dinner. I’ve never been talked to that way, and it is not fair. I should have just stayed with Todd; at least he was respectful. I knew what issues he came with and what he was capable of.”r />
  “No, you shouldn’t have. It sounds like a really bad date. You’re not stuck-up or bougie. You have just been running into a few crazies lately, but there are good men out there.”

  “I don’t believe that. I am really starting to think all men are insane and there aren’t any good ones left.”

  CHAPTER 15

  Yvette

  I was served an order to stay away from Phil, his family, and his place of employment. Like I was some kind of stalker, killer, or even wanted him. I didn’t want anything to do with him. I just wanted my money. I felt so dumb and embarrassed. Simply put, even if I didn’t agree with the order, if I violated it, I would be jailed and fined. Every time I thought about my situation, I got upset. My every thought was about my plans for that twenty-five thousand. It wasn’t a lot of money, but it would make my life a lot easier. Without my money, I had to think about how I was going to pay Mercedes’s tuition, and I still needed to pay my September rent, my cable, cell phone, electric, Internet, and gas and get groceries. I had eight things to do, but enough money for only three. I had applied for unemployment. Hopefully, I’d be approved, because I didn’t know what I was going to do.

  When we moved into this apartment, it was temporary. I knew it was small and couldn’t fit all our belongings, but now I found myself constantly running to the storage to get something we needed. I was going crazy thinking that we actually might have to live in this small apartment long term and I might not be able to get out. I sat and cried for a moment. I placed my hands in my lap. I had no idea what I was going to do.

  Mercedes ran in my bedroom, screaming, “Mom, Brandon saw me watching television, and he came and changed the channel.” She didn’t get the reaction she wanted. She took a look at me and asked me if I was crying.

  “No. I’m not crying, but stop yelling.”

  “It looks like you were crying. Brandon, Mommy was crying.”

  Brandon ran into my bedroom. “Mom, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong, I’m not crying. I have allergies.”