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Well, that’s partially true. I mean, subconsciously, yes, I was still agitated with Roosevelt for not serving me up another hard round of dick right on the spot when I booked my flight.
And, yes, the thought of a sweaty romp in the sheets with some Zulu warrior had crossed my mind. But I entertained the idea only for a second. Okay, okay…for a few minutes. Not more than that.
But, flying out there for the sole purpose of getting fucked was, is, not my intention.
Or, subconsciously, is it?
No, no, of course not. I’ve already admitted I’ve cheated on Roosevelt a few times. So, what’s to stop me from doing it again?
Nothing.
But that’s not my intention.
“Okay, I’ll take that,” Mecca says, swiping her bangs over her forehead. “But, I’m going to ask you this one more time, then I’m moving on. You’re going alone?”
I smile, easing my lips to the mouth of my glass, then taking a slow, deliberate sip; purposefully making her wait for my response. Although I am three years her senior, Mecca seems to think she’s the eldest. And I don’t mind letting her wear that crown. It fits her well.
I set my glass down. Finally give her the answer she’s waiting for. “Yesssss, Mecca. I already told you. I’m going alone.”
She rolls her eyes. “Okay. Refresh my memory, again. You’re going waaaay out to St. Lucia, alone, to do what exactly?”
I laugh. “So much for moving on. Geesh. I already told you. To relax. To soak in the sun, and tan.”
“Uh, huh. And get fucked. Don’t do me, boo. What bitch you know flying to a Caribbean island alone, where there are a bunch of horny, big-dick islanders eager to please, unless she’s got some hard dick already over there on speed dial, or she’s in search for some?”
I give her a dismissive wave. “You’re watching too much late-night television. For the umpteenth time, there’s no other hard dick besides Roosevelt’s.”
She smacks her lips. “Okay, if you say so. Annnnnd, tell me again, for the third time before I really move on this time. Why is it you’re going alone?”
I can’t help but laugh at her ass. She can’t help herself. Nosey-ass. “Girl, stop. You know I’ve been saying I needed a getaway for months now.”
She sucks her teeth. “Uh, yeah, with your man, or me. Not whisking off to some spicy island alone, where God knows what could happen to you.”
“I’m not whisking off, as you say, anywhere. I’m taking a well-needed getaway. Period. Hell. I deserve it. The way things have been at work the last several months, it’s a surprise I haven’t become a pill-popping junkie and alcoholic, messing with those petty bitches.”
Mecca grunts. “Mmmph. I don’t know how you do it, girl, putting up with them messy bitches. I told you what to do. Slide your hand up in one of them bitch’s scalps, and yank her damn tracks out. That’ll stop them bitches from fucking with you. Rip a bitch’s edges out and that’ll shut her up and sit her ass down real quick.”
I laugh. “Uh-uh. Girl, I can’t with you. And have me standing in a police lineup. Not. I’m not even about to fuck up my pension behind some catty-ass women who don’t know how to work in a so-called professional environment.”
Mecca rolls her eyes. “That’s what the county gets for hiring them back-to-work bitches. Them hoes done got a little county job and some benefits, and now they think they’re stars.”
I continue laughing. “A damn mess.”
“Uh-huh. Now back to your messy ass,” she says. “Why didn’t you tell Roosevelt what your plans were instead of lying to him?”
This bitch…
“Because I didn’t want him to go,” I say defensively, tilting my head. “That’s why. And he would have wanted to go if I told him.”
I take a sip from my wineglass.
She bats her lashes. “Uh, yeah. You think? Of course he’d want to go. It’s a Caribbean island for lovers. And single hoes.”
I cough, almost choking on my drink. “Ooh, you dead wrong for that.”
She chuckles. “But you know I’m right.”
“Whatever. Bottom line, I wanted to go it alone. And I am. Besides, it works out perfect since Roosevelt’s flying out to Atlanta to meet up with a few of his frat brothers for the weekend.”
