The Naughty Sins Of A Saint

by Tiana Laveen

  “No, I haven’t, but my sex life isn’t part of the discussion.” Xenia rolled her eyes.

  “Sure it is. You said the majority of you will stand by your Black man, including yourself. So what you do personally is a part of the conversation. Furthermore, how can you criticize something you’ve never tried? I have a friend who’s never tried pineapple. He thinks it looks unfit for human consumption – all those spikes. But pineapple is sweet and packed full of vitamin C. Unless you try it, you may not see the benefits.”

  “Nope, you aren’t sucking me into that conversation.” Xenia waved her hand at him.

  ‘But can I suck on you?’ Saint thought.

  “In his books, Dr. Aknaten presents Black men as the enemy, folks. He’s sitting here trying to act brand new about what I’m talking about. In my opinion Black men can’t even be racist, Dr. Aknaten. You have to have power in order to be racist. Black men have no governmental, systemic, or economic power.”

  “I’d like to respond,” Saint began.

  “No, I’m still talking. You also appear to be obsessed with Black women from a purely sexual standpoint.”

  “Why am I here if you’re going to do all the talking? I thought this was an interview.” Saint calmly clasped his hands together and chewed his gum.

  “Nothing about your books demonstrates to me that you’re serious at all about the lives and love of Black women,” Xenia continued. For some reason, she couldn’t stop herself. “I mean,” she rolled her eyes again, “how does your mother feel about you basically saying she isn’t good enough to date, mate, and marry? Your mother’s Korean, right? That’s what your bio says.”

  Saint was quiet and stared deeply at Xenia. She stared back, taking on his nonverbal threat before rolling her eyes now a third time.

  “Well? Cat got your tongue?” she teased. “We’re on live radio here.”

  “Yes, Xenia, my mother is Korean. However, she’s also dead, so she actually has no opinion on it at all at this time.”

  Xenia froze.

  “If you’d done your research thoroughly, like a good journalist, or at least had one of your interns look me up on Wikipedia, you would’ve known that.” Saint’s voice remained calm as he chastised her. Xenia’s large, dark-brown eyes softened as she realized her mistake.

  “Dr. Aknaten, I do apologize. I wasn’t aware of the passing of your mother.”

  Saint remained quiet as he folded his arms over his chest. Xenia looked around the room anxiously as her producer frowned at her.

  “I’m an author myself,” Xenia offered, “of two self-help texts that…”

  “I know who you are, Xenia Donnellson. You’ve written two books, one called ‘Make That Man Beg,’ which is about women holding out on sex for the first three months of dating, and ‘How to Pimp your Finances,’ about investing. You’re all for the empowerment of women. We both are, yet you see me as an adversary. You’re also a well-loved local and national personality, and indulge in trifle celebrity gossip on Fridays. On Wednesdays, you have a lunch give-away, and on Mondays you have people call in from 8:00-9:00 in the morning to tell jokes. You’re thirty-two years old. Your birthday just passed actually – happy belated. You’re unmarried, no children, and you live in an upscale part of Los Angeles. Your mother raised you. You’re pro-Black. You have a seven-year-old Jack Russell terrier named ‘Sphinx,’ and you’re one of the few women who actually enjoys playing video games, especially the kind that involve a lot of shooting and mayhem. I did my homework, Ms. Donnellson. I just wish you had done the same.”

  Xenia swallowed hard. Her body heat increased tenfold. She waved her finger at him after gathering her thoughts. “Ladies and gentlemen, you should see Dr. Aknaten’s face right now. Apparently I hit a nerve. This topic is about his work, but we’ve discovered something much deeper in this interview, and it’s just begun. Let’s go to commercial break, and we’ll be right back on the Xenia Donnellson show!” Xenia snatched off her headphones and pushed the mute button as they were taken into commercial. She leaned over the controls in front of her, exposing her ample bust in her low-cut, soft, purple shirt. Saint’s eyes immediately went to them, and that’s where his eyes stayed for the next twenty seconds.

  “Dr. Aknaten, let’s get one thing straight right now. This is my show! You don’t want to fuck with me the way you just did. This is an interview! I interview celebrities, and sometimes the questions may be uncomfortable. I appreciate you being here, but you obviously can’t take the heat. This interview can help your career. I have over one hundred thousand listeners on my worst day. Anyone who’s been on my show has seen at least a thirty percent jump in their book and product sales. As you’re such a controversial person, yours will probably double that. You should be thanking me instead of attacking me!”

  “Are you finished?” Saint calmly lifted his eyes from her rack, his arms still crossed over his chest. “You never shut up. Let me know when you’re done, please. Are you finished now, for real, because I need to be sure.” Saint wore a slight grin.

  “Yes, motherfucker, I am!” Xenia could feel her face turning red. “I wish I could kick your flippant ass out of here, but my boss would pitch a fit! I’m not going to kiss your ass like some others do! I know what the hell goes on with guys like you. You think you run the world and can have anyone you want, like Black women are your property. You think we’re the latest gadgets. We don’t want your lame asses. I need a real man, not some half-Kung-Fu asshole talking shit.”

  “I thought you said you were finished.” Saint raised an eyebrow.

  “I am, mark-ass lame!” Xenia briefly turned away and adjusted the music fade buttons.

  “Good. First of all, Kung-Fu was created by the Chinese, so please get your Asian stereotypes correct before you use them. It was created during the Ming Dynasty, if you even truly give a shit. Anyway, it looks like we have five minutes before we’re back on air, so let me make something clear, right here, right now, Ms. Donnellson. Don’t ever bring up my mother again, and we won’t have another problem. What you did was purely for ratings and because I make you uncomfortable. It wasn’t to help me, you, or the listening audience. Respect me, and I’ll respect you back. Don’t start a war with me and then act surprised when I defend myself. You’re one of those women who want to cry when you get what you gave. Don’t come at me hard if you can’t hang.”

  “Oh, shut up! You aren’t intimidating me.”

  “If you can dish it, be prepared to get it handed right back to you and take it like a champ. I’m not going to tiptoe around your feelings while you berate me, and I don’t care about how you feel right about now. Don’t try any girl-power bullshit on me. You want to wrestle me like a man, then fuck your feelings.”

  “Fuck yours, too!” Xenia spat.

  “You want to pretend you have balls? Fine, then. Be prepared to play with the big boys. You’re probably one of those Black female apologists. You have to make ‘the brothas’ feel comfortable, even though the ones you deal with don’t give a shit about you. You’re doing all this rallying and cheerleading for men who don’t care if you draw another breath. Yet you keep the fight going and truthfully, I really don’t care what your stance is on this. For someone who doesn’t want any ‘rainbeau’ love, you sure are defensive and angry.”

  “What the hell is ‘rainbeau’ love anyway?” Xenia asked.

  “A ‘rainbeau’ is a man who courts a woman correctly, in the proper way, and he isn’t Black, but he pursues Black women for dating and marriage. He’s a gentleman and...”

  “A gentleman? Like you? You’re the rudest mothafucka I’ve ever laid eyes on! How can you sit there and talk about being a gentleman?”

  “Don’t interrupt me again,” Saint demanded. “Your personal views have nothing to do with this interview, but you make them fair game when you pose personal questions. I’m not trying to make you do anything, so why you are taking it personally? Perhaps you have something invested in this, or you’re afraid that
I might be right. And for the record, you can call it cocky if you want, but you know you want me.” He flashed a huge grin.

  Xenia laughed and hit the table in front of her. “Where the hell did that come from? You’re blowing my mind!” she laughed. “You’re the most arrogant person I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting!”

  “You can do all the name-calling you want. It just makes you look small, unlike those big-ass titties you keep shaking in my face. You twirled your hair at least four times, and that’s a direct flirtation. You smiled while you insulted me, and it was genuine. You’ve been shaking your leg like it’s an oil pump. The damn thing is gonna detach and fly across this fucking room if you don’t stop – another sign of your attraction towards me. I make you uneasy, and I don’t give a shit. I have enough book and video sales to keep me sustained until I’m a thousand years old. I don’t need you to drag me through the mud. I have integrity.”

  “Oh, please!” Xenia waved him off. “Integrity? I know about your reputation, Mr. Hoes-in-all-the-area-codes. Your dick has seen more pussy than a veterinarian. Don’t talk to me about integrity. You’re a smart gigolo, a male whore with a doctorate, nothing more, nothing less. Wikipedia that, bitch!”

  “That may be true, but you still want to fuck me,” Saint said with a grin. “This entire argument is making your pussy wet. I can smell it from over here. If I were you, I’d advise no one to sit there until you get the clean-up on aisle red chair taken care of first.”

  There was silence as Xenia stared at him, so angry her body shook.

  “Whatever game you want to play, Ms. Donnellson, I can play it better,” Saint continued. “You warned me to not fuck with you – interesting choice of words, considering the topic. You’re being warned as well. I hope we have an understanding, because I’m a person you don’t want to go to war with. It won’t be pretty. Come at me like that again, and just watch what happens. I eat people like you for breakfast. Take that any way you wish. You’ll lose every time. Now hurry up and let’s get this shit over with. Your goddamn light is blinking.” Saint threw an ink pen across the room, leaned back in his chair, put his hand up to his chin, and displayed a look of utter disgust.

  Xenia quickly pulled on her headphones. “We’re back on the air with our very special guest, Dr. Saint Aknaten!” She forced a cheery tone, in typical journalistic fashion. “OK, Dr. Aknaten, now that you’ve rattled off my bio, let’s get to the crux of why you’re here today. Let’s take some callers. All the lines are busy. Let’s take this one. Houston, Texas, you’re on air with our special guest, Dr. Aknaten. Please give us your question.”

  “Yeah, this is Henry. I want to know why this punk-ass is trying to destroy the Black family. Doesn’t he have his own women to date? I’m sure plenty of Asian women would love to be wit’ him, so he needs to leave our women alone. The Black family is important, and people like him keep trying to tear it apart. His name is ‘Saint,’ but it should be ‘Demon.’ The Black woman belongs with the Black man!”

  “OK, Henry, let’s let Dr. Aknaten respond,” Xenia said with a smirk.

  “Henry, I understand your frustration and concern,” Saint began, “however, my message isn’t for you. This isn’t about how the Black man feels. That’s one of the problems I keep running into with African-American men. You believe that if you don’t like something, then everything should change. What about the Black woman’s happiness? Also, I can’t destroy the Black family. I don’t have that kind of power, but Henry, you do, and other men like you. The Black family is being destroyed because of incarceration of Black men and by the Black man abandoning his family and by a lack of accountability and shift of blame. Without a strong father figure, a woman can’t teach a boy how to be a man, so the cycle continues of Black male adults who expect women to take care of them. There are enough Black women for all of us, and you, quite simply, can’t meet all of their needs. There aren’t enough of you available for a number of reasons. The Black woman shouldn’t have to be alone just to make you feel better. With all due respect, to hell with your opinion, Henry, because it’s selfish. This isn’t about you for once. If you love the Black woman so much, you should want her to be happy, married if she so chooses, and well taken care of. It’s selfish to expect her to sit around and wait for the Black knight who’ll never arrive.”

  “Those are some pretty strong words, Dr. Aknaten. I wonder what you classify as loving the Black woman and taking care of her.” Before Saint could respond, Xenia stated, “Let’s take another call. This is the Xenia Donnellson show. Juniper out of Los Angeles, you’re on the air.”

  “Dr. Saint Aknaten, it’s so great to talk to you,” said the bubbly female on the line.

  “Thank you, Juniper,” said Saint. Xenia rolled her eyes, put her finger in her mouth, pretending to gag.

  Saint looked at her and mouthed, “Little – childish – immature.” Xenia laughed and put up her middle finger.

  “I just want to say that I agree with you one hundred percent! I’m a Black female and I think we as Black women need to expand our dating options. Black men have been dating white women forever, but then as soon as we do it, we’re destroying the Black family! Yeah right! My boyfriend is white, and he’s treated me better than any of the Black dudes I dated. We really need to wake up! My boyfriend has read all of your books by the way. Keep doing what you’re doing!”

  “Thank you, Juniper, and congratulations on your new relationship. I hope it stays positive and that it’s continuously successful.”

  “One more call before the break,” Xenia jumped in to say. “You’re on the air, Peter Paul from Brooklyn, New York.”

  “Dr. Aknaten, you need to get your wig split. I’m ashamed to say that we grew up in the same hood. Most of us are sick and tired of listenin’ to this disgusting crossbreed, this mutt, this half-Asian, half-washed-out white terrorist, Iranian, Egyptian, whatever the hell he is, goin’ around the country encouragin’ the destruction of our race. Have you seen this man speak? It’s unbelievable. He has the nerve to go all over the country talkin’ that shit, and our tax dollars are shelled out for him to have police protection while he goes around puttin’ down Black men and tryin’ to get in Black women’s panties. Game recognize game! This mofo is the biggest pimp I’ve ever seen. I give him props for how smooth he works under the radar. He’s been pimpin’ since he first opened his mouth. He’s fuckin’ a bunch of Black bitches every night and then wants to talk about respectin’ the Black ‘queen.’ Fuck you, man. Xenia, I can’t believe you even have this fool on the radio. He’s a traitor and enemy. He actually teaches white men how to fuck our women. Can you believe that shit? It ain’t bad enough that he tells Black women to date these cracka mothafuckas, he then needs to turn around and give the actual steps on how to dick a bitch down so that she’ll never want to leave. He got mass sex videos on this shit, and bitches are gettin’ dick-whipped from these pale-ass, wet-dog-smellin’, funky, stringy-haired, thin-lipped, no-ass-havin’ mothafuckas. They gotta do that, or they know the desperate Black women they pull will leave. You gotta pay a Black bitch and fuck her all night just to get her to want your half-breed ass!”

  “Mr. Paul, I’m going to have to ask you to watch your language so we don’t have to keep bleeping you,” Xenia said. “Some cursing is OK, but you’re going too far.” She kept her hand on the trigger but beamed with happiness at the nasty tongue lashing Saint had just received. “Dr. Aknaten, is there anything you’d like to say to Mr. Paul?”

  “Mr. Paul isn’t worth responding to really, but I’ll humor you. Peter, I think you’re just jealous because I get more pussy than you. I think you’re talking loud but ain’t sayin’ nothin’. Stop worrying about who my dick is in and worry about your own…peter.” Saint smiled. Xenia shook her head and grimaced.

  “Shut the fuck up, man! Like I was sayin’, he gives a step-by-step guide on how to make the Black woman crave white dick. This mothafucka has women standin’ around like tramps, waitin’
for him from city to city, some of our finest sistas I might add, too. Ain’t that some shit? Dr. Saint Aknaten, listen to me and listen well. If you don’t stop what you’re doing, we’ll kill yo’ mutt-dog, pretty-boy, Baghdad-lookin’ pimpin’ ass. We’ll come and…”

  “OK, I had to disconnect that call. Good Lord, the crazies are out today!” Xenia teased. “Let’s go to a commercial break and be right back with our wonderful guest, Dr. Saint Aknaten, here on the Xenia Donnellson show!” Xenia took her headset off again and looked across the table at Saint. She searched for a reaction from him. Instead she was met with a stoic, placid facial expression as Saint rested his hands on his knees. She nodded at him and smiled. She was impressed.

  “OK, back to business, Dr. Aknaten. Argument over. Let’s try to keep this lightweight from this point on. You were pretty composed just now. I give you some credit for that. You were so animated in the conference clip. You really do put on a show. You handle our irate callers well.”

  “This is the real me,” Saint explained. “I’m used to hearing people like that. It doesn’t faze me. Instead, it encourages me to keep doing what I’m doing. People pay good money to come and see me or buy my videos and books, so everything I tell them is true. But you have to be able to energize the crowd. You know that. You’re in this business. Right now I’m just having a conversation. When I’m speaking to a large crowd of people, they need to be motivated. They need a pep talk so they can feel like they can really accomplish what I’m suggesting. I see there are still a lot of calls in queue. I can stay longer if you need.”

  “Thank you. That’s generous of you,” Xenia smiled. “You’re a very strange man,” Xenia said, as she turned away. She shook her head of soft, brown, crinkly curls. She flipped through some papers and added, “You’re very attractive. I can see why women go crazy over you. I’ll admit that, and you’re obviously above-average intelligence but cuckoo as a cuckoo bird. There’s just something about you that gives me the creeps, and truthfully, I can’t wait until you’re out of my damn studio.” She turned back around and pushed the “On-Air” button.