6
I sat in El Placer, devouring the salsa and chips the waitress had placed in the middle of the table and trying to decide if I was going to flag her down and ask for white or yellow cheese dip. Both were so delicious. Although Renee had invited me out to lunch, she was late meeting me, and that left me to sit and eat and ruminate on how Ryan Boyé’s slacks fit him this morning when he knocked on my door and asked me if it was okay to have a satellite hooked up. In the past, I had been against it, but I had no control over my brain or my mouth around this man or his smile or that Louisiana inflection of his, so I just nodded, smiled, and said, “Sure.”
I was attracted to him in a real, tangible, heart-racing way, but the problem with that was I had only ever been attracted to assholes, miscreants, horrible men who seemed to take pleasure in not only hurting me, but in humiliating me. Benny cheated with my BFF, but Khalil was more ambitious, cheating with just about any woman with an accessible vagina. And Ryan Boyé? Shit, he was a million times handsomer and more successful than either of them. And he was single. And I was one hundred percent sure he was single by choice. Beneath that smile had to be a masterfully terrible person unless I had mystically fixed whatever was broken in my sense of attraction, and I highly doubted that.
I was relieved to finally see Renee making her way to our table wearing a pale pink pair of scrubs, her hair in a ponytail. Renee had gorgeous hair that I was sure would look stunning if she went natural, but she refused, just like Nicky, who, by the way, entered the restaurant right behind Renee. Well, that was a pleasant surprise. I couldn’t remember the last time the three of us broke bread together.
I stood from the table and hugged both my sisters before reclaiming my seat, and saying, “Man, it’s been a long time since we had lunch together.”
Nicky nodded. “It’s been a long time since we did anything together.”
“That’s because you two are mean to me,” Renee said, as she grabbed one of the little white plates on the table and poured salsa into it.
“Sorry,” Nicky said, as she plunged a tortilla chip right into the big serving bowl of salsa. “You know what we should do? Set some ground rules. Let’s face it: we need each other. Neither of us really has any friends. Angie, I understand why you don’t trust other females after that Benny fiasco, and Renee, I’m pretty sure friends are a no-no when it comes to your marriage, and I don’t have any friends because I’m a ho’.”
My eyes widened, and I looked over at Renee whose expression matched mine.
“What?” Nicky asked, biting into a chip. “You think I don’t know I’m a ho’? Oh, I’m well aware of it, but I’m not your regular ho’. I’m a ho’ with a purpose. I’m hoeing for a husband.”
“Wow,” I said.
“It’s the truth! My hoeing is not purposeless, arbitrary hoeing. I’m very selective about who I screw. See, I’m a progressive ho’.”
Renee was shaking her head as she fumbled in the basket for another chip. “Nicky…”
“Anyway,” Nicky continued, “like I said, we need each other. So how about this? No more dogging each other. If we can’t lift each other up and be constructive with our words, we keep our mouths shut. Me and Angie won’t criticize your choice to stay with Satan anymore, Renee. It’s none of our business anyway.”
“You had to refer to him as Satan?” I asked.
Nicky shrugged.
Renee sighed.
“Soooo, Angie, how’s the new tenant?” Nicky asked.
“Oh, you found one?” Renee questioned, obviously relieved that our conversation had shifted.
The waitress approached us to take our orders, and after she left, I said, “He’s a great tenant. Quiet, paid the entire lease up front. I have no complaints.”
“That’s great, Angje! I know it’s a gamble when you have rental property. You never know what you might be getting yourself into. Is it just one guy over there? That’s a big place for one person.”
“No, it’s one fine-as-hell guy! Girl, I would’ve been done used my landlord key on him. He’d wake up with me on top of him!” Nicky declared.
“Um, well, Nicky…that would be unlawful entry and rape. He’s fine, but I ain’t tryna get locked up,” I responded.
“If you put it on him good, he’ll be thanking you instead of calling the police.”
“I’ll pass. You know I don’t do relationships. I’ve had more than my share of shitty ones.”
Nicky reclined in her chair, her eyes focused on me. “That’s your problem right there. Who said anything about a relationship? I’m talking about straight fucking, getting nasty, finally getting you a good orgasm.”
“Nicky, lower your voice,” Renee said. “Do you have to be so graphic up in here?”
Nicky threw a dismissive wave at Renee.
I leaned back in my chair and folded my arms over my chest. “What makes you think I’ve never had a good orgasm?”
“I’m talking about one induced by the actions of a flesh and blood man, not a mechanical device or your fingers. You and Benny were kids when you first got together, and I’m sure you were both virgins. He didn’t know what he was doing, was probably just pumping until he was done. I doubt you received any clitoral stimulation at all from him, and he was probably miles away from hitting your spot. I bet he couldn’t have found it even if he had the help of a turn-by-turn GPS navigational system.”
I just pursed my lips and grabbed a chip, bringing it to my mouth and taking a bite. There wasn’t any point in denying that she was correct in her assessment.
“And Khalil? Oh, he was a selfish lover. Anyone can look at him and tell he wasn’t about trying to please anyone but himself.”
I remained silent.
“Look, Ang, all I’m saying is, you’ve got to learn to look at men differently. You see a guy and instantly think relationship. How about just dating a guy? Going out and having some fun? Everything doesn’t have to be so serious.”
“Says the woman who sees every man as a potential husband,” Renee quipped.
Nicky rolled her eyes. “We’re supposed to be being nice and constructive. Remember?”
“You called my husband Satan,” Renee said.
“Okay, fine. My end game is finding a husband, but I still enjoy myself in the meantime, and I don’t try to force a relationship out of every encounter I have with a man.” She turned to me. “When was the last time you went out and had a good time, Angie?”
I shrugged.
“Never! You met those two butt cracks and instantly fell into a relationship. You’re attractive, successful, and sort of famous. You should be enjoying life, not—”
Nicky was cut off by a young lady who approached our table and asked to take a picture with me, screaming, “It’s 4C Angie!” so loudly, I was afraid we’d get kicked out of the place. As I stood from my seat and posed for our ussie, I couldn’t get Nicky’s words out of my head. Her crazy butt was actually making sense for once.
“See,” Nicky said once the three of us were alone at the table again. “You got too much going for yourself to stay up in that house watching YouTube all the time. You’ve gotta start living, sis.”
All I could say in response was, “Yeah, I know.”
Renee poked me. “So you’re actually taking advice from her?”
I gave her a sheepish look. “I can’t deny that I’m lonely, Nay. I’ve been avoiding relationships, but I think Nicky is right. I’ve been looking at things wrong. The problem is, I’ve been running from men for so long, I wouldn’t know where to start with this dating thing.”
“Start right next door with your fine tenant!” Nicky suggested.
I shook my head. “That’s business, and you know I don’t mess around like that when it comes to business.”
As the waitress placed our food before us, Nicky said, “All right, let me handle it for you. Be sure to go out and buy you a nice outfit. I’m gonna get you a date for Saturday night. I have just the guy in mind.”
“Please, none of your leftovers,” I said.
“Girl, I might be a ho’, but I have scruples. I wouldn’t do that.”
“Thank God,” Renee said.
*****
Nicky fixed me up with one of her professors, a thirty-six-year-old man named Dr. Harrison Fletcher who taught graphic design, a class she didn’t need for her degree but was taking basically because she felt like it. She sent me a picture she took during class in a text message informing me that he was going to give me a call that same night after our lunch. He was nice, a little on the quiet side, handsome (according to his picture), and eager to meet me. Nicky said she’d shown him a picture of me, so at least I knew he wasn’t expecting Nicky Strickland 2.0. My sister’s tiny body screamed sex toy while mine shouted grown woman.
He suggested we go to a jazz club called Coda, a new place I’d never been to, because I’d basically been nowhere since my break from Khalil. Who the hell was I kidding? I barely went anywhere with him when we were together as he was not only tacky and cheap, but also extremely thoughtless.
Anyway, Harrison sold the idea of going to the club when he told me about their killer menu, so I agreed to meet him there rather than letting him pick me up since I didn’t know him.
When I texted Nicky to let her know we were going out, she replied with: Yessssss! Now I can only hope it leads to a good, steamy one-night-stand. Every girl needs to experience one of those.
Rolling my eyes, I responded with: U need help, baby sis. Serious help.
I really wondered if her brain was able to function above vagina-level.
I spent Friday morning washing and twisting my hair. That afternoon was spent shopping for an outfit that was conservatively sexy. Something that accentuated my femininity without giving the impression that I was loose. After perusing three stores, I found a gorgeous strapless black maxi dress that made me look like a goddess. I already had the perfect pair of black shoes and some silver jewelry that would go great with it. Now all I had to do was hope the anxiety I was experiencing at the thought of actually going out with a man wouldn’t overtake me and cause me to back out.