The essence of a something man
My life immediately got back on track after my dinner with Afeni. A few days later I found myself back in Texas trying to put out a fire that was fueled by greed and the illusion that my small IT company was a weak unsupported start up. Which would explain why one of the vendors that I contracted for the project, came to the absurd conclusion that they needed more money and input for them to honor the original contract. This arrogant belief that I needed their input bothered me slightly, but not enough to get me on a plane. Demanding twice the amount of money that we agreed upon was enough to irk me into flying back to Texas with my lawyer in tow.
After we arrived in Texas, Sharon and I took a few days to appraise the situation before we agreed upon a proper course of action. After that was done, Sharon went on the attack like a pack hungry wolves. The legal battle, which pitted their group of overpaid lawyers against my lawyer, took place over the best damn barbecue that I had ever tasted. However not even the best barbecue sauce in Texas was enough to deter Sharon from dismantling this poorly plan attempt at cheating me.
The actual legal battle was over before I even had a chance to analyze the barbecue sauce that decorated the lower half of my face. With the situation in Texas squashed, Sharon and I headed back home to Atlanta to address another problem that was starting to agitate the hell out of me. The DA’s office was aggressively investigating the actions of my wildly successful catering business, and as of late, they still didn’t have anything concrete on me. However that didn’t keep them from prying into my personal and professional affairs. Sharon cried foul before she went to the press about it, but that didn’t help me out seeing how the city newspaper didn’t have much love for me. Frustrated with that outcome, Sharon tried every legal trick in the book in attempt to bring both parties to the table so that we could touch base on some of the sensitive areas of the accusations that had been leveled against me. Of course the Government never returned her phone calls, or her personal requests for a meeting. In the end, we decided to be proactive by hiring an outside accounting firm to examine all of my financial records, both personal and business.
By the end of that week, I was emotionally and physically drained, and the only thing on my mind as I left Sharon’s office that day was the amount of fun I was going to have with my buddies at our favorite strip club.
After I returned home, I did three things before I headed out to meet my friends. I swallowed a shot of Vodka before I inhaled half a blunt. Feeling just right, I took a long shower and dressed before I touched bases with my children over the phone. The three of us talked for about an hour before I did what I always did when the guilt of not being with them reared its ugly head. I made promise after promise before I jumped off the phone and caught a cab to the club. Twenty-five minutes later I arrived at the gentlemen’s club feeling like the six million dollar man on steroids. Walking with a bounce to my step, I eventually found Zachary and Michael in the VIP area of the club looking shit faced and horny as they desperately tried to catch the attention of one of our favorite shoe models.
“C’mon Coco, brother been waiting for your fine ass all night.”
Coco, a five eleven bombshell from the Windy city paid Zachary and his flashing hundred-dollar bill no mind once she saw me coming.
“Oh it’s like that huh Coco?” Zachary hollered with a flushed face.
“Boy if you don’t leave me alone,” she sighed as she approached me.
“Wha up Babe.” I asked her after I place a small kiss her on the top of her head.
“I’m fine, but when are you gonna get around to tellin’ that white boy that he ain’t Black?”
“Told him a thousand times already.”
We both laughed at that before Coco explained what she wanted.
“I need a fav.”
“Anything, and I mean anything.” I said as I admired a woman I should never have.
“Let’s not go down that road Omari.”
“You’re right, what do you have in mind?”
“Gotta any books on TCP/IP that you wanna sell?”
“Way too many, why wha’s up?”
“My professor at State says I hafta have a book by Monday morning or he’s going to drop my dumb ass. So how much do you want for one of those books?”
“Lemme see, the last TCP/IP book I bought cost me a buck ninety, but if you can give me sixty plus a free dance, it’s yours.”
“Great, I’ll be over at your table in a few minutes,” Coco said before her eyes and her half-naked body caught sight a dude flashing, not one, but three hundred dollar bills.
“What are we drinking tonight people?” I asked my friends after I took a seat.
“A little this, a little that,” Michael answered before he showed me the goods.
I liked what I saw and said, “Johnnie Walker Black. I’m down like two peas in a pot.”
“Figured you would be, Omari. But where is Coco going?”
“His three to your one Zach, you do the math.”
“Damn, anybody got change for a twenty?”
We all laughed at that before Michael said, “You know she going to want to work for you after she finishes school, right?”
I looked at Coco as she danced seductively for her new client and said, “Outside of the fact that she might be smarter than the three of us put together, I don’t think I’ll have a hard time with that decision.”
“I second that,” Michael chimed in before tasting his drink. “So how’s that open relationship thing going with Nique?”
“She’s out of town again, but other than that, it’s okay I guess.”
“Did you tell her about Afeni?”
“No, but she tells me about all of her little flings.”
“Man, I couldn’t deal with that,” Zachary said after he dismissed a lesser shoe model.
“I could,” Michael chuckled before he finished with, “look, women got mad issues these days, so you better get yours while you can people.”
“She’s not that bad, okay, she got some issues, but…”
“They all got issues. In fact, some of these women out here don’t even know they got issues. And here’s a little hint, don’t even try and tell them about it because you’ll open yourself up for a discussion on your fucked up issues. And trust me when I say, that shit can last for days on end.”
“You’re on point with that one Michael,” Zachary said as he stared down at his drink.
“If that’s not bad enough, you got some of these women out here who think their fucked up issues don’t really pertain to them, or you for that matter which means you still can’t say shit to them because in the end, they ass just don’t stink. You know what I mean Omari?”
“Not really, but I’ll take your word for it,” I chuckled as tasted my drink.
“So are you and Nique gonna make it official or what Omari?” Zachary asked optimistically.
“Are you and Sarah really going to get married?”
“Who told you that?”
“A little birdie named Michael.” I mumbled before I poured Michael a drink. “And before you get all fuckin stupid on me, lemme say one thing.”
Zachary looked me straight in the eyes knowing I wouldn’t bullshit him about anything as serious as his relationship with Sarah. So I knew I had to keep it real with him, even if it was going to hurt him deeply.
“Go for what you know man.”
“You know me and Sarah’s father go way back, you know that right. I mean, for crying out loud, he was the only professor at State who gave damn about me, so I gotta tell you the truth.”
“Word, keep it real with me.”
“That man will never like you.”
“Because I’m white, is that it?”
“Exactly,” Michael added after he flashed two hundred dollar bills at Coco. “Now that we’re on the subject of race, I brought you guys something that I want you to read.”
“Can’t you see that we’re about
to deal with something serious here?” I asked.
“This shit isn’t serious; it’s dealt with news as far as I’m concerned.”
Zachary suddenly appeared offended, because he shook off the affects of the twelve or so glasses of Johnnie Black to focus his attention on what Michael was about say.
“Got your attention don’t I?”
“You do, so say what’s on your mind Michael.”
“No problem. You and Sarah are going to do what you want to do regardless of her father likes it or not. Will it be a mistake, I’m afraid so.”
“How you figure that?”
“Sure you wanna go there Zach?” I asked him after I spotted this beautiful dark skinned woman checking me out from a far.
“I wish you guys would stop treating me like a child. Damn, I may be white, but that doesn’t automatically make me stupid, so out with it already.”
Michael and I shared a concerned glance before I said, “Get’em dog.”
“No problem. Everybody but you knows that your girl doesn’t come from an average Black family Zach.”
“Do we still have Black families?” I joked, already sounding drunk out of my mind.
“That shit may sound funny, but Omari makes a damn good point. You see Zach, Sarah comes from a proud Black family that has huge ties to the Civil Rights Movement. Do you understand what I’m saying here?”
“In other words, marrying Sarah would be like you marrying Malcolm X’s daughter. That’s how deep the rabbit hole goes my friend,” I said before I started staring back at the woman.
“You know, he never once reached out to me. So that can’t be my fault.”
“C’mon now, I know Sarah told you about all the shit that man went through in the sixties.”
“Not really, okay, yeah we talked about it a little. So what, that was then and this is now. I love her more than anything in the world, and that’s all that should matter right?”
“I guess,” Michael grumbled after he discovered what I was looking at. “Damn she got a big ole’ booty.”
“That she does, but I’ve never had any luck with big butt southern women,” I said as my prowling eyes lowered for the kill.
“I have a simple answer for a simple question my friend.”
“You have an answer for everything Michael.”
“Zach has a point there, but I’ll play along.”
“I’m feeling the hate, are you guys done? Good, you can’t pull a big butt southern women Omari because you lack that certain ghetto machismo that they seem to love.”
“Ghetto Machismo, that’s a new one on me.”
Zachary shook his in disbelief and said, “Don’t take this personally, but you are sort of behind the times Omari.”
“I’m not offended, so how do I go about fixing my lack of ghetto machismo? Oh I know, maybe I should stop thinking for myself. Hold on, will going to jail help me out on this thing; I mean that seems to be the in thing these days.”
“I was just trying to help a brother out that’s all.” Michael replied with a sideways glance.
“For the record, this ghetto machismo thing isn’t keeping my biz afloat, and it sure as hell isn’t paying my bills.” I said before my MDA alerted me to call. I checked to see who it could have been and was surprise to see that it was Afeni.
“Excuse me, but this non ghetto machismo having brother gotta take care of a little business.” I said before I headed to the men’s room.
“What’s going on Afeni?”
“Nothing much, just thought I give you call to see how you were doing.”
“If you must know, I’m drinking, and surrounded by pussy. Other than that, I’m doing well, wha up with you?”
“You must be at a strip club.”
“Round One goes to the sexy young lady in pink.”
“Should have invited me silly.”
“Really, why?”
“Because I can be a lot of fun at those sorts of places.”
“My imagination is starting to get the best of me. Okay I’m not going there, but I’ll keep that in mind all the same. So how’s you’re son?”
“He’s good, but I didn’t call to talk about him Omari.”
“I see.”
“I wanna see you. Is it okay for me to say that?”
“You’re a grown woman Afeni, so you can say whatever you want. As far you and I hooking up, well that’s up to you Ma.”
“I like how you call me Ma, sounds sexy as hell.”
I would be lying to myself if I didn’t allow myself to blush after hearing that. So I did just that before I asked, “So when do you wanna hook up?”
“Are you really drunk?”
“And ready to be taken advantage of.”
“Yeah, you’re ass is drunk.”
“I’m not that drunk, just a little goofy.”
“Please tell me you’re not riding that bike of yours tonight.”
“Its back at the house. I took a cab here, so I really don’t have any wheels at the moment. What did you have in mind?”
“Like I said, I really wanted to see you. But it sounds like you’re having a great time, so let’s just try for another day.”
“Another day might not feel like this day Afeni.” I said before I came correct. “Check this out, if I had a choice between partying with my boys, or spending time with you, chances are I would choose my boys.”
“No you didn’t go there.”
“I’m sorry, that didn’t come out right.”
“Obviously.”
“What I was trying to say was; I’ve been thinking about you all week. I mean, I wanna see you too and everything, but I didn’t know if you were feeling me after our first date.”
“Our first date; you counted that as a date?”
“Hell yeah, we ate yard bird together right. So yeah, that was a date in my book.”
“A date it was.”
“Now that we got that straight, lemme tell you something real Afeni.”
“I’m all about the real Baby.”
“Good, because I don’t like doing what I’m doing. You understand, I mean I just wanna be with somebody on the real.”
“That’s interesting.”
“I know what you’re thinking, and it isn’t like that.”
“First of all, you don’t know what I’m thinking but for the record; didn’t you tell me that you had somebody already Omari?”
“I was honest with you on that situation, and honestly, I don’t know where that is going. I’m feeling her, that’s true. But she’s got issues that I’m not really ready for. I just want something real right now, that’s all.”
“That’s understandable, but can I ask you something.”
“I’m here.”
“Does my age represent realness to you Omari?”
My head was clouded and numb from the drinking. So I wasn’t in the proper state of mind to answer that question rationally. However I knew what I wanted, so I went for it as I did everything else in my life.
“Your age doesn’t mean shit to me!”
“Relax Baby, I just had to know a little something that’s all.”
“Whatever. I’m here wanting to be with you, is that so wrong?”
“Never knew a Virgo could be such a conversational beast.”
I didn’t recall telling Afeni my birth date so this sort of threw me a little, not enough to make me sleep alone in my bed.
“You went online and checked my credit didn’t you?”
“I’m not that kind of woman Omari, but I know a few ladies that will go that far. Would you like to meet them?”
“Nah, that’s okay.”
“That’s what I thought, but if you must know, I did a Google search on you and discovered all sorts of interesting tidbits.”
“Damn internet. So what are we going to do Afeni? If I had wheels, I’d be where you are in a flash; unfortunately I left my flash mobile at the house.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“And why is that?”
“Drinking and driving don’t mix, that’s why.”
“True, they do have laws for that sort of thing.”
“Yes they do.”
“So umm, you live inside the city right?”
“Yes, I live in the city.”
“Well, you could always catch a cab.”
“I like that idea.”
“Really, well I guess I’ll see you in few minutes than.”
“I guess you will.”
“Not if you don’t give me your home address.”
“That would help huh,” Afeni said before she sent me her home address via an instant message.
A couple minutes later I was back with my friends drinking and carrying on until I decided to tell them that I had to leave early.
“Are we talking business or pleasure?” Michael asked between gulps of beer.
“I don’t know, I guess pleasure.”
“The man is going on a booty call!” They both laughed with blood shot eyes.
“This is not a booty call okay!” I replied defensively.
“So what is your definition of a woman calling you in the middle of the night looking for company?”
“Too long to explain sir.”
“Coward,” Michael said after he shoved me something to read. “One of my peers emailed me that the other day. Was wondering what you guys thought about it.”
I picked up the piece of paper and read it:
‘White critics of the plan complained that Black and Brown authors' stories wouldn't be "universal" enough in the themes they discussed, signifying the way in which Eurocentric thinking supplants rational thought. Such an argument assumes that white folks' perspectives are sufficiently broad to stand in as the generic "human" experience, while persons of color have experiences which are only theirs, and from which whites can learn nothing. This is, truth be told, the essence of white supremacist thinking.’
After reading the article twice, I tipped my glass and said, “It’s about time you got back to changing our culture.”
The Other Side of My Kitchen Page 15