Blackgentlemen.com

by Zane

  “No, you know better. I don’t get down like that. Besides, I have a man Roz.”

  Roz smacked her lips in disgust and put the compact car into drive.

  “We’re not even going to go there, Tasha.”

  Tasha ignored the comment and buckled her seatbelt as Roz pulled out of the space and entered the row of traffic exiting the Metro station.

  Roz decided trying to convince Tasha that she had an imaginary man was a worthless cause so she changed the subject. “How was your day?”

  “Same drama, different day. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  “I heard you moving around half the night. What was up with that?”

  “Jamaican bean pies.” Tasha giggled.

  Roz shook her head. “You’ll never learn.”

  Tasha changed Roz’s radio from the hip-hop station to jazz. She didn’t feel like hearing a bunch of rap songs with masked curse words. If it said thang on the radio, that more than likely meant it said dick, ass, or even pussy on the actual compact disc. Tasha couldn’t understand how music had gone from quality to shit, with rappers outselling people that could actually sing their asses off.

  “Thanks for picking me up from the Metro, Roz.”

  “No big deal. When’s your car going to be ready?”

  “Tomorrow morning. They had to wait for a part to come in.”

  That was the one thing Tasha hated about owning a Saab. The parts were hard as hell to come by and when her car did experience problems, it was never an easy task to get it fixed. She couldn’t complain too much though. Three days was a whole lot better than the customary two to three weeks.

  Roz started bobbing in and out of traffic on Colesville Road, headed to the townhouse they shared in Briggs Chaney.

  “Peeps at your job still going at each other’s throats?” Roz asked rhetorically. She already knew the answer.

  Tasha laughed. “Like the Hatfields and the McCoys.”

  Roz swung her braids from side to side, switching her eyes between the rearview mirror and sideview mirror. Tasha was always tickled by Roz’s driving. If there were ever a poster child for aggressive driving, Roz would win hands down.

  “I don’t see how you stand it, Tasha. If people at my office were fighting every day, I’d be ready to jack somebody up.”

  “It’s simple. I drown them out completely. I don’t get mixed up in other people’s problems. They’re the ones with issues. Not me.”

  “Yeah, but still.”

  “I actually find it halfway amusing,” Tasha confessed. “They’re engaged in psychological warfare and don’t even realize it. I’m almost ready to start a betting pool with a few sisters at the office. We can place bets on what order the people involved in the feud drop out of the company.”

  “I don’t see why they haven’t left already. Don’t they all have degrees?”

  “Yes, Roz, but a degree doesn’t mean that much these days. Besides, it’s not about getting a new job. It’s the principle of the matter. No one wants to give their enemies the satisfaction of knowing they caused them to leave, or even worse, to lose their job.”

  “Sounds like they’re seriously immature.”

  “Speaking of immaturity, are you and Juicy still going to that cookout tonight?”

  Roz glared at Tasha like she had some loose marbles. “Hell yeah, we’re going! I had my nails done today and everything. You’re coming, right? Dantè said his pool is open so you’ll need to take a bathing suit.”

  “I think I’ll pass on this one. I still haven’t recovered from Dantè’s thrilling cookout last Fourth of July weekend.”

  “Oh, please,” Roz stated incredulously. “It was the bomb last year!”

  “Roz, get real. Nothing but a bunch of horny, drunk brothers running around slapping sisters on the ass with wet towels.”

  “It wasn’t that bad, Tasha. Your ass is exaggerating, as usual.”

  “Roz, I went in the kitchen and they were getting his pit bull high with a bong. They had a towel over the poor thing’s head and all that.”

  “Okay, okay.” Roz smacked her upper teeth on her tongue. “Point taken, but what else do you have to do tonight? Anything’s better than sitting at home. It’s the holiday weekend. You need to get out and do something.”

  “I will tomorrow. Tonight, I just want to wash my hair. It’s itching like crazy. That gel you told me to use was not the move.”

  “After you wash your hair, then what?”

  “I’ll finish watching those DVDs from Blockbuster that are already three days overdue.”

  “Damn, three days?”

  “Well, I haven’t had my car and you’re always hanging out.”

  “While you’re watching the movies, I suppose you’re going to get on the computer,” Roz said sarcastically.

  Tasha knew the computer comments would start sooner or later. “Only to check my email.”

  “What email can’t possibly wait until tomorrow?” Roz asked as she turned off Colesville Road onto Briggs Chaney Road.

  “Don’t trip,” Tasha responded defensively. “Stop trying to make me sound like an internet junkie.”

  “If the shoe fits.”

  Roz pulled into their driveway. The automatic lights were on in the living room and the sprinkler was getting busy on their front lawn. It was also on a timer. Tasha and Roz took pride in their home. That meant taking care of the outside as well as the inside.

  Tasha continued as they got out of the car and walked to the front door. “An internet junkie surfs the web or hangs out in chat rooms twenty-four seven. I work every day.”

  “And stay glued to your computer monitor all night,” Roz quickly added.

  Tasha had heard enough. “Whatever, heifer.”

  Roz leered at Tasha’s back while she navigated her key into the deadbolt. “Don’t get defensive, calling me names and such.”

  Tasha got the door unlocked and walked in. “Sorry for the name-calling. That was immature and I need to practice what I preach.”

  Roz giggled. Tasha was always reading motivational and spiritual books encouraging her to treat everyone with respect. After much convincing on Tasha’s part, Roz attempted to do the same.

  “By the way, Tasha, I’ve been trying to stick to those spiritual guidelines you taught me. I try not to make assumptions, I don’t take things personally, I try to stay true to my word, and I always do my best.”

  “Great!” Tasha kicked off her heels and plopped down on the plum-colored leather sofa. Her poor, poor feet. “Do you ever slip? I know I do from time-to-time.”

  “Girllllllll, I’m glad to hear you admit that.” Roz plopped down across from Tasha on the matching loveseat. “The ones about assuming and not taking things personally are exceptionally hard for me. You know I think everyone should see the world through my eyes.”

  Tasha nodded her head. Being Roz’s roommate, she knew that better than anybody. “Yes, but they don’t. People see the world through their own eyes. The way they view people and situations is based on the way they were reared and the morals and value system they were taught.”

  “Maybe that’s why I’m so materialistic. Because my mother taught me to be.”

  Tasha laughed so hard, her stomach started hurting. Roz’s mother was the most materialistic person Tasha had ever met. Some people are compulsive shoppers and some people just feel like they have to own one of everything. Roz’s mother was the latter.

  “Did you ever doubt that for one second?”

  Roz kicked off her black mules and reached for the television remote on the coffee table.

  “You spend so much money on clothing and jewelry, I’m surprised you can even make rent.”

  Roz turned on the television and found the Wayans on the WB.

  “I survive. I might skip a few lunches in the pursuit of spandex, but it’s all good. Skipping the meals ensures I can fit into the dresses.”

  Typical, Tasha thought. Roz always found a way to justify her actio
ns. Tasha picked up her shoes, got up, and headed for the steps. “I’m going upstairs to check my messages.”

  “Voice mail or email?” Roz chided.

  “Very funny.” Tasha paused on the bottom step. “Give me a shout out before you leave so I can lock up.”

  “Okay, but you can still change your mind.”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  Chapter Three

  Tasha entered her bedroom and tossed her shoes in the walk-in closet. She sat down on her bed and hit the button on her speakerphone. The dial tone was ragged, letting her know she had messages waiting. She dialed into her voice mail service. She had three new messages.

  “Hey, Tasha. It’s Mom. Your Aunt Mavis is having a cookout tomorrow. She says two o’clock but you know that means more like four. She and Rufus had that new deck put on the back of the house so they’re anxious to show it off. Give me a call if you want your Daddy and I to pick you up on the way. She’ll be heartbroken if you don’t come. I’m definitely not showing up before four. She’s not tricking me into doing half the cooking. If I wanted to do a bunch of cooking, I would’ve planned a cookout here at the house. Talk to you later, sweetie.”

  Tasha deleted the message, already trying to think of an excuse to get out of the cookout. She loved her family, but didn’t want to spend every holiday listening to her mother and aunt argue about this and that while her father and uncle traded war stories over a bottle of Jack Daniels.

  “Ms. Armstrong, this is Candace Bryant from Nubian Queen for a Day Spa. You recently signed up for a complimentary pampering session at the Sister My Sister Convention. I was calling to arrange an appointment time for you. Please return my call at your earliest convenience. The number here is 202-4-NUBIAN. Remember our motto: We treat you like a Nubian queen even if your man doesn’t. Talk to you soon, my sister.”

  Tasha scribbled the number down on a pad on her nightstand. She could sure use a day of relaxation at a spa. She saved the message for thirty days in case she misplaced the piece of paper. There was a beep, but Tasha didn’t flash over to the other line. She figured she might as well listen to the last message. The person calling could just leave one.

  “Tasha, girl, this Angie. Have I got some shit to tell you. I did go out with that dude from BlackGentlemen.com. We hooked up last night. Girl, he rocked my world. Screwed me six ways from Sunday. I know, I know. I said I was gonna stop giving up the draws so fast, but I just couldn’t help myself. He was just too fine. Anyway, I just wanted to give you props for turning me onto that website. It’s the bomb! I’m bout to go navigate through that bad boy some more and see what I can see. When you gonna hook up with the brotha you’ve been talking to off there? You should’ve picked someone closer to home, some convenient dick. Know what I’m saying? Imma jet but call me later, aiight?”

  Tasha was relieved Angie had found someone. If there was one sister waiting to exhale, Angie was the one. She felt completely useless without a man hitting it from the back at least every other night. Still, Tasha planned to talk to her about going overboard. Especially on BlackGentlemen.com. It was a great site, the bachelor site of all bachelor sites featuring African-American males, but just like anything else in life, proceeding with caution was a must.

  She deleted Angie’s message and pushed off the speakerphone. Two seconds later, the phone rang. Tasha willed it not to be her mother.

  “Hello.”

  “Hello, Tasha.”

  “Hey, Rinaldo,” Tasha said excitedly. Her night had just perked up big time. “I was just thinking about you.”

  Rinaldo was the man Tasha felt committed to, even though they’d never met. She’d met him through BlackGentlemen.com six months previously, traded pictures, and fell head over heels in lust at first, and then love. She realized how crazy it seemed, but she truly loved the man. If someone had told her, even a year earlier, that she’d get hooked up with someone over the internet, she would’ve laughed in their face. Not anymore. She understood how it could happen and never poked fun at others who’d met their men in cyber space. After all, so did she.

  The reason Tasha ventured onto BlackGentlemen.com in the first place was because she grew sick and tired of seeing her friends show up at this party or that party with fine ass men they’d located on the site. She figured her chances of meeting Mr. Right on BlackGentlemen.com was just as good as any, so she went for it. She was overwhelmed with joy that she did.

  “Word? Were you really just thinking about me?” Rinaldo asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I tried to get you a few minutes ago, but your voice mail picked up. I figured you’d be home by now.”

  “I heard the beep, but I was checking messages.”

  “Right, right. All your men calling you up to see what you’re doing for the weekend.”

  Tasha giggled. “All what men?”

  “Baby, I’ve seen your pic. I’m no fool. I know you’ve got homies falling at your feet.”

  “Not hardly!”

  “Listen up, baby, the reason I was calling is cause I wanna see you.”

  “We’re still hooking up in Hotlanta for Labor Day, right?”

  “Of course. My word is my bond. I wanna see you this weekend though. Tomorrow.”

  Tasha was shocked. “Are you serious?”

  “I’m past serious. What if I fly out there tomorrow?”

  “But, but, how is that possible?” Tasha grew nervous. This was the last thing she expected to have dropped on her suddenly. “I thought you had to save up some money?”

  “My dog, Sammie, set me straight. I got the money for the ticket. I got my reservation. All you gotta do is tell me to bring it.”

  It’s too soon, Tasha thought. She was planning on dropping at least ten pounds before Labor Day and getting a complete makeover before she boarded the plane to Atlanta.

  “Tasha?” Rinaldo blared into the other end of the phone. “You there?”

  “Yeah, I’m here,” Tasha replied, squirming on the bed.

  “Aw, come on baby. You not frontin’ on me now, are you?” Rinaldo asked accusingly. “All these long distance calls I’ve been making. All the nights I stayed home sexing you on the phone when I coulda been hanging out with my dogs.”

  “No, I’m not frontin’. I’d love to see you.”

  Tasha did crave to see him, but couldn’t shake the fear that things wouldn’t turn out the way they both envisioned it. The way they had been talking about their first encounter transpiring.

  “That’s more like it. My plane lands at eleven. US Air Flight 236.”

  “Which airport?”

  “Hell if I know, baby. The one in D.C.”

  “Oh, okay, Reagan International.”

  “So you’ll be there, right?”

  “I have to pick my car up early in the morning, but I’ll be there.”

  Tasha heard the front door opening and slamming downstairs, followed by Juicy and Roz squealing at each other about their tight ass outfits.

  “You look good, girl!” she heard Roz exclaim.

  “I always look good,” Juicy concurred. A victim of low self-esteem she wasn’t. “You look awesome, too, Roz.”

  Tasha turned her attention back to Rinaldo, who was still flirting with her ear. “I can’t wait to see your sexy ass when I get off the plane. Wear something seductive and revealing.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “I want you to jump into my arms and give me a big, fat kiss the second you see me.”

  Tasha was about to respond when Juicy and Roz came barging into her room without even knocking.

  Juicy didn’t care if Tasha was on the phone. She needed attention and, as always, was prepared to demand it. “Tasha, you not going with us, fa realllllll?”

  Tasha shook her head no. Juicy rolled her eyes, walked over to Tasha’s vanity table, sat down, and started messing with her hair and makeup.

  Roz sat down on the bed beside Tasha, staring at Juicy while she pri
mped in the mirror. Roz was wearing a bikini with a sarong tied around her hips and a pair of white three-inch sandals.

  “Promise me you’ll give me a fat old juicy kiss when you see me.”

  Tasha was reluctant to continue the conversation. She knew how nosy Roz could be. “I promise.”

  Roz flung her head in Tasha’s direction, almost slapping her in the face with her braids. “Who you talking to?”

  Tasha mouthed Rinaldo’s name. Roz rolled her eyes to the ceiling and crossed her arms in front of her in disgust.

  “Good,” Rinaldo said. “Well, I got a bunch of shit to do tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Okay, see you then.”

  “See him when?” Roz asked, pushing Tasha roughly on the arm.

  “By the way, do I need to get a hotel or sumptin’?” Rinaldo asked. “If so, can you call around for me?”

  Tasha knew Roz would talk shit about the words about to leave her lips, but she left them flow freely anyway. “Don’t be silly. You’re already coming out of pocket for the plane ticket. You can stay here.”

  Roz jumped up from the bed, threw her hands on her hips, and got loud. “Oh, hell naw! He’s coming here?”

  Juicy sensed some drama about to set off. “Who is she talking about?”

  Tasha waved Roz and Juicy off so she could hear Rinaldo.

  “Can I sleep in your bed?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Mmmm, I’m rock hard just thinking about it. We gonna do all the freaky shit we talked about?”

  Roz responded to Juicy, still talking in an elevated tone. “Tasha met some brother on the internet and now he’s coming here from Cali.”

  Juicy exclaimed, “Damn!”

  Meanwhile, Rinaldo was still waiting on a reply. “Well, are we gonna get freaky or what?”

  “I guess so,” Tasha said hesitantly. She wasn’t so sure she was actually capable of bedding down a stranger, even though they’d talk for months by phone and through emails.

  “Stop saying you guess so,” Rinaldo said with an edge of sarcasm. “I hope you don’t just lay there and make me do all the work like the others.”

  Tasha sat up on the edge of the bed. “What others?”