by Derrick Jaxn
The rest of the ladies added a few "Mm-hmms" and "I know that's right" cosigns.
I knew I was treading deep water, so I thought for a moment before I spoke. "A man won't buy the cow if he's getting the milk for free...only if he's a broke ass man. Even if a broke ass man does buy the cow, he's still going to be out taste-testing anybody else that's offering free milk after his purchase, so the focus should be choosing a man who's in it for more than just your milk before you give him any of yours in the first place."
I scanned the faces of the ladies in the room. They were sitting still for a moment so I got nervous. Like all of my logic got caught in the filter of "Fuck that." But fortunately, I noticed a few smiles that assured me they received my message.
Left corner, in the back a woman stood and broke the silence, "Okay, I need to know how to catch a man cheating. I know, I'm supposed to trust and all that, but please, just let me know how I can catch my man cheating because I know he is. But without proof he just gon' blame it on my insecurities and trust issues like always."
The rest of the crowd looked at her like she was crazy at first but then turned to me like it was a good question deserving of a real answer.
Pete looked at me for the okay to take this one. I let him.
"Okay, so as a guy who's gotten caught more times than I can count, I think it's best I answer this. I'm pretty much an expert at getting caught cheating, except I can't stop getting caught.
"Anyway, the last time I got caught cheating, my girl did the sneezing technique. Is anyone in here familiar with the sneezing technique?" he asked the room.
No one raised their hands, but everyone was all ears, including me.
"You simply wait till he gets a suspicious call, possibly from his side chick. Before he can leave and go in the bathroom with his phone, you sneeze. Now, he has to make a decision. He either says 'Bless you', in which you will say 'Thank you' loud enough for his mistress to hear your voice or he won't say a thing in which you can then go off.
"Me, I chose door number two and didn't say anything. As you can imagine, my phone made it to the toilet before I did. So that's one way."
All around the room, women began pulling out pieces of paper and asking to borrow pens from each other. Pete looked at me like he didn't know what to do next, and I looked at him like he needed to keep going.
"Um...okay, another way is to text the girl in question. Pretend to be him by saying you have a new number." I noticed his eyes getting glossy as he stared off. "She'll keep up an entire conversation with you and won't get suspicious or think to just double check with him by calling in case he has a psychotic girlfriend who's going to break his car windows once she finds out I'm cheating. Even though I'm only cheating for a little while, I was going to be faithful again sooner or later, I swear!"
The room became hushed, and everyone was side eying each other like, "What in the hell just happened?"
"P...P!" I whispered over to him.
I looked to the event coordinator who was looking at me for a signal. She then said, "Ladies and gents, let's take a ten-minute break. Restrooms and refreshments are out front. Thank you."
"Pete. You good, man?"
"Yeah, dude. Just haven't quite learned to let go yet."
"I know how it is. Losing a good woman will do that to you."
He looked up at me. "To hell with the woman. I'm talking about my car. She knew I loved that damn car."
***
"Okay....so, how do I look?"
"You look fine, Shawn," Stacy said as she adjusted my collar one more time and smoothed out the back of my shirt.
"Not too dressy is it?"
"No such thing. She's going to love your outfit. Dressing up on a first date shows respect. At least she'll know that you cared enough to try and make a decent impression."
I smiled, grateful for a woman's opinion. Stacy was a first-year grad student looking to earn a few extra dollars and get her feet wet in the writing industry herself. We were close in age so we understood each other and had gotten close as a result ever since I'd hired her last year to be my assistant.
"Well, good. Maybe this one will go a lot better than the last."
She looked up at the ceiling, repeating me silently to herself as if she was trying to remember who I was talking about. "Oh yeah, Terri. Wall-of-shame bumper stickers-Terri."
"Yup. That's her."
"Lighter fluid pouring on your front lawn until the neighbors came outside-Terri."
"Wait what? When did that happen?"
My door bell rang. Stacy went to go see who it was without answering me.
My driver was parked outside in the rental for the night. I would've taken Daisy Duke, but I kept her tucked away for the very reason Stacy and I had just discussed. Those kinds of things--cars, clothes, job--can be seen as collateral by a woman who didn't like hearing the word, no.
"Okay, Shawn. You're all set. I'll catch up with you tomorrow to update you on the rest of your bookings, but tonight, promise me you'll give her a chance and just try to relax."
"Got it, Stace. I owe it to myself. I need this to go well."
The address Pete sent me led us to a Red Lobster downtown. He must've been trying to propose tonight because this was five-star dining for him. If it didn't have a drive-through, you pretty much wouldn't catch him there.
"P., what's good brother?" I said, as I walked up to him and embraced before leaning in to Rashonda for a hug.
Pete had on a Hawaiian print button-up he'd likely gotten at a thrift shop that was "pretty much brand new". Some plain khakis and penny loafers. His hair was slicked back in a smooth pony tail; that part was his girlfriend's touch.
"Hello, Shonda. Nice seeing you. Lookin' lovely as always."
"Thank you very much." She smiled, quickly glancing at Pete as if he'd forgotten to compliment her before they came out. "Dom' said she's on her way. She should be here any minute now."
Pete walked up to me and patted me on the shoulder and whispered, "Let me talk to you for a sec, bro." He walked me away from the front where 'Shonda waited for us yelling back, "Be right back, babe."
"What's good?" I asked him once we got to a safe distance.
His face looked sketchy, unsure of something. Nervous almost. "Okay, so I just want to say that Dominique--oh crap, there she is."
A black Range Rover pulled up into the parking lot. Brand new, fresh off the lot.
"Hurry up and tell me. What's up with her?" I said.
He looked down at the ground, dubiously. "It's kinda hard to say."
"Dammit, P., you pick a fine time. Tell me before she comes."
"Okay," he said as she got out of her car. We began walking back so as not to be rude. "She may...or may not have an Adam's apple. Just thought you should know."
"The fu--"
"Peter, y'all hurry up. You know it ain't polite to keep us waitin'," Rashonda threw out.
We were now within hearing distance so I sealed my lips while staring Pete down for setting me up. This dude here, I tell you.
"See her heart, not her past, bro," Pete said.
"What?" Rashonda responded for me.
"Dominique, meet Shawn. Shawn--Dominique," Pete avoided.
I forced a smile and finally laid eyes on Dominique with a quick glance to her throat. That part was clear.
Her eyes were soft and her cheek-bone structure was strong but not masculine. She clearly put a lot of work in on her body too, particularly her legs. She looked like she could've been older than me, but not by much. The maturity looked good on her. Hopefully she was a her.
She reached out and said, "Pleasure to meet you, sir."
I met her hand and gently shook it, assuming she was from a corporate culture of some sort. That would explain the car, the Tiffany diamonds around her wrist, and her Red Bottom heels. She had very expensive taste and probably an income to support the habit.
"Pleasure's mine," I responded.
"Now that we got that out the
way, let's go eat!" Pete said, punctuating through the awkwardness of both Dominique and me trying to gather as much information from the first impression as possible.
He and Rashonda led the way in as Dominique didn't wait for me to walk beside her.
A woman with that much money put into her appearance, attractive, and going on a blind date; either she had little to no time to go out on dates, little to no tolerance for nonsense, or both. But the sister certainly wasn't just any old girl from the block.
The cheddar biscuits came out and Pete's eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas.
After a few bites, he said, "So Dominique, you know Shawn writes poetry and stuff? He's deep."
"And Shawn, you know Dominique is a certified personal trainer? I'm sure you can tell," Rashonda added.
Dominique and I both looked at each other and laughed. We'd barely gotten a word in since Pete and Rashonda talked so much.
I chimed in,. "Well, I know now. But we're sitting right here. We can talk to each other."
"I know, bro, just sayin'. And Dominique, Shawn's like a really big deal but he doesn't like to talk about it so don't bring it up."
"Well, Dominique is too. Voted as one of the top twenty-five celebrity fitness trainers by Essence," Rashonda retorted.
They were in a contest of who had the better friend like two kids arguing over whose dad could beat the other kid's dad's ass.
"Alright alright," Pete blurted out. "Let's cut to the chase and get down to what everyone's really been waiting for. A little game of Truth or Dare."
Everyone looked at each other awkwardly before looking back at Pete.
Dominique said, "Um...I don't know about you guys, but I wasn't thinking about Truth or Dare at all."
"Sure you were, come on. It'll be fun." Pete threw back. "Who's first?"
I looked at Rashonda, hoping she'd say something to put a stop to it.
She didn't. With excitement in her eyes, urged, "Peter, how about you go first."
"Okay, so truth or dare?" he asked Dominique.
"Truth."
"If you had to nickname the last person you had sex with after the sex you had with them, what would it be?"
"Oh, choose another one. That's inappropriate." she said uncomfortably.
I smiled, hoping she'd answer the question. Hell, I was curious too.
Rashonda joined in, "Come on Dom', you gotta answer."
"Alright, alright." she obliged. "I guess her nickname would be Onion."
Pete and I gave each other the side eye that meant we were on the same page about the visualization of her and a "she".
Rashonda asked, "Onion? She must've been thick."
"No, she just cried when she orgasmed. Which was often, with me."
I raised my brow as she sipped her tea like she was Kermit and looked up to the ceiling before throwing a truth or dare back out at Pete.
He said, "Truth."
Apparently nobody wanted to go near the dare section while out on a nice date.
"You ever ate the...you know."
"The cooch?" Pete asked.
"No, the other one."
Dominique shot a devilish look over to Rashonda to let her know it was payback for making her answer the previous question.
Pete said, "Ooooh, you mean the anus?"
"Yes, that one."
"The litter capsule."
"Okay, if that's what you call it. Yes."
"The fecal chamber."
I interrupted, "I think you get the point P. Just answer the question."
Calmly, he looked off and said, "Nope."
Rashonda shifted in her seat and smiled uncomfortably.
"But I might as well have last night." he continued.
I coughed, without laughing. Somehow. Dominique's mouth dropped. Pete shook his head in affirmation while Rashonda just closed her eyes.
"That's what I get for trying to surprise my woman. A nice little surprise waiting for me."
Rashonda lamented, "I know you did not just,"
"You could've warned me."
"I told you I had a long day! What did you think that meant?"
"Could've mean you were tired. But if you wanted to tell me your catfish was smelling like it was drowning, there's a lot of better ways to make that clear before I put my face down there!"
A few seconds passed by and Rashonda kept her eyes closed. Everyone waited to see what would happen next.
"Rashonda, you alright?" I asked.
"Yeah, I just had to pray. Because when I'm done with him it's going to take Goliath himself to pry my foot up outta his ass!"
Dominique grabbed my hand, pulling me away to another table while Pete pleaded his case to deaf ears.
"I'm so sorry for that," she said.
"Don't apologize. Not your fault. Pete always--"
"Rashonda always," we spoke simultaneously. She joined me in a slight chuckle. "Okay so they're both a trip, huh?"
"Yeah, apparently."
We ignored the commotion at the other table and chatted a while.
Questioned each other about our backgrounds, eyeing each other with subtle admiration, the conversation flowing without a hitch.
She was witty. Fine as hell. Wouldn't have to ask a brother for a dime. Hell, she may even give him a dime every now and then. And she was a freak. I'm sure Onion was missing her like crazy.
My phone buzzed.
Pete: You good brah? [8:34 p.m.]
Pete: I told you. She's hot. [8:35 p.m.]
Pete: I know you saw that ass. Hell, I sure did. [8:37 p.m.]
Me: Yeah. Can't text tho. Rude. Ttyl [8:53 p.m.]
Pete: OK cool. Shonda's getting on my nerves so we need to wrap this on up as soon as possibjklplk////:fhaseb [8:54 p.m].
I looked up and saw Rashonda slapping Pete across the back of his head and grabbing for his phone as he tried to explain and defend himself at the same time. She must've been looking over his shoulder and caught sight of that last message he was sending.
"Uh, Dominique, we might better go see what's up with our friends. Looks like they're done eating," I said, nodding over to their table, which went from zero to 100. Real quick.
She slid out of her booth and rushed over to the table. Rashonda immediately started pleading her case as Pete nursed the back of his head.
I went over to our waiter, who was on his way into the back with a few of the plates and slid him two Benjamins for our meals. I didn't do the math, but it should have resulted in a pretty generous tip for his service. Ever since I waited on tables back in college, I had a soft spot for what they had to go through.
Sometimes the people who did tip could be such assholes, and the money wasn't worth it, but none was worse than a non-tipper. You go to work expecting to go through bullshit, but you also expect to get paid for it.
Surprisingly, everyone made it outside in one piece. Rashonda and Pete refused to ride back home together so he went and sat in my car while she sped off and Dominique and I said our goodbyes to each other.
"Next time, we'll leave the kids at home," I said, laughing at Rashonda's tail lights disappearing into the night.
"Is that a request for a second date?" she asked.
"Only if your answer is yes. Otherwise, no. It wasn't."
"Oh, don't pull the Shy Guy on me, Mr. Love Expert."
"Okay, fine. I would like to see you again. We can play it by ear over the next week maybe and work it in our schedule?"
"That sounds like a plan. Here's my card. My cell is on the back," she said, reaching in her purse and handing me her info.
"Cool. I'll go ahead and hit your phone so you can have my number too. Guess this is good night."
I reached in to give her a hug. Her body was a lot softer than it looked, and I wasn't complaining.
"Yes, good night. Make sure you drive safe. And don't forget the extra covers."
"The extra covers?"
"For your boy," she said, looking towards Pete sitting in the car. "Seems h
e may need to crash at your place tonight." She laughed and waved before pressing the remote control unlock button to her own car and driving away.
***
"All right, bro. So tell me. How fly was that assist?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, I just gave you a Magic Johnson slash Lebron James behind the back, no-look assist. I know you didn't slam dunk because clearly you came home with me. But did you lay-up, pull up from three, go left--"
"--Oh, right. Dominique. Yeah, man, she's dope. You picked a good one this time."
He smiled, "And...?" he waved his hands in circles for me to continue.
"And, you know. She's nice."
His face relaxed back into confusion. "Nice?"
"Yeah. What's wrong with nice?"
"The Golden Girls are nice. The salad that your aunt makes who everyone knows can't cook but tries to let her be involved at Thanksgiving every year, that's nice too. But Dominique isn't just nice. She's what happened when God invented ham sandwiches."
"Okay, I guess. I don't know. Wouldn't mind hanging out again, but honestly, doubt we'll go too far. Didn't quite feel that spark. No tingly feeling. And there's always a tingly feeling for the one."
He paced around my living room a few times, his right hand on his temple like I'd just given him a migraine.
"Tell me. What was the name of your shrink again?" he asked.
"My therapist?"
"Yeah, you know who I'm talking about."
"Jessica. Or you can call her Dr. Holley."
"Whatever. I think she was right, bro."
"About?"
"You're not over Danielle, man."
I walked into my room. Really not interested in taking that conversation any further.
"You don't have to say it. But you know it just like I do," he yelled after me.
"I'm done with that, P. You're talking crazy now."
"As crazy as a guy who just sat face to face with everything he says he's looking for in a woman, then shrugs her off? Or what kinda crazy you mean?" he responded sarcastically. "You keep looking for that missing something. That missing something is Danielle."
I went back in and stood at the doorway, wrestling with his logic. I hadn't thought about it that way before. I'd already come across countless women, none of them ever seeming to be my type even though on paper they were as good as it gets. Good women didn't seem too hard to find, but I wanted better than good. I wanted right.