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“Yeah, she is. But she can’t hold a candle to you, baby.”
“Good answer,” I
said, smilin’.
I leaned back in my seat, then sang along quietly to “You Better Tell Her” when it came through the stereo. I felt him stealin’ glances at me while he drove, but I kept my eyes straight ahead, starin’ at the road and swayin’ to the music. E’ery now and then I gave him sideways glances on the low, tryna figure out what was really good with this nigga’s flow.
“So what kinda niggas you into?” he asked, lookin’ at me as we stopped at a red light.
I stared back at him. “Why, you puttin’ in an application?”
He chuckled. “If I want the position, I’ll just take it. So answer the question.”
I grinned. “To answer ya question, I’m into niggas who ain’t scared of pussy; a nigga who knows how to eat it up and beat it up.” He laughed. “Real talk,” I continued. “I hate a nigga who can’t fuck, and don’t eat pussy.”
“I can dig it. On some real shit, though, you talkin’ like you know how to take a dick and suck a dick.”
“I ain’t scared to put the work in, if that’s what ya askin’.”
“Okay, so what else you look for in a cat?”
“He gotta know how to keep shit real,” I stated. “I can’t stand a lyin’-ass muhfucka, or a nigga who thinks I’m some weak chick he can mind-fuck. That’s when the bitch comes out, and I gotta bring it to him. Anyway, I’m into a nigga who knows how to keep his dick in his pants and who ain’t easily impressed by a bitch tryna offer him some pussy. A nigga who ain’t beat for creepin’ with the next bitch. I’m into a nigga who knows how to hold it down in and out of the bedroom; a get-money type nigga who handles his business without bringin’ that street drama up in my space.”
He nodded, takin’ it all in. “I hear ya, baby. So why you don’t have a man?”
I thought for a minute before I spoke. Flashes of all the bitches I knew who lived and breathed a man came to mind. Bitches who couldn’t live without a man, who thought not havin’ one was the end of the world, that somehow they were nothin’ without one. Bitches who would sell their souls for a stiff dick rammed up their ass. I shook the images outta my head. The thought of ever becomin’ one of them weak bitches made me sick to my fuckin’ stomach. Ugh, how I hate weak bitches!
“’Cause a man don’t define me,” I finally said, lookin’ directly at him, “and havin’ a man isn’t something I need.”
“Sure you do,” he said, grinnin’.
I frowned. “How you figure?”
“’Cause a woman has needs, and no matter how many times she says she doesn’t need or want a man, at the end of the day, she still wants to feel loved and needed and wanted. She still wants a man to make her feel special.”
“Then she’s a damn fool,” I snapped. “A chick shouldn’t haveta have a man to make her feel special. She should already feel special. She shouldn’t have to rely on a man to be loved. She should already love herself.”
He smiled. “It’s more about companionship. Having someone she can feel connected to; someone to spend her life with.”
Humph, fuck all the extras. Just give me the dick. I shrugged my shoulders. “I guess,” I said.
“So, you don’t wanna spend ya life with someone special; have someone you can share your hurts and fears with, someone you can grow old with?”
I took a deep breath. A bitch wasn’t ready for this discussion. “I don’t think about it,” I said honestly. Hell, most niggas were too muhfuckin’ shady for my likin’. And some of ’em acted worse than bitches.
“Oh, okay. Let’s switch gears. Since you don’t seem to need anyone to handle ya emotional needs, how about having a man to handle ya sexual needs?”
I held up both hands and wiggled my fingas. “This is what these are for,” I said. “They never let me down.”
He smiled. “Okay, but what about those nights when you wanna feel something thick up in ya guts?”
“Oh, not to worry,” I said, smilin’. “That’s what my collection of dildos is for. And if I just need a quick touch-up, I have a thick mini-vibrator to take the edge off. Two double-As and it’s good to go all night long. No stress; no mess. I can just nut and go.”
He laughed as he drove toward the Lincoln Tunnel. “Oh, shit,” he said, grippin’ the steerin’ wheel and tryna keep his eyes on the road while lookin’ over at me. “You funny as hell, word up. I see you got a answer for everything.”
“Yep,” I agreed. “I’m that bitch; I thought you knew.”
“So I see,” he said, pullin’ up to the toll booth. He handed the busted chick in the booth a twenty. “Well, I guess since you don’t seem to need or want a man, there’s no sense in me tryna push up on ya.”
