Weekend, pt. 2

so that night we headed to a reggae joint called vibes. i'd never been there before and was hesitant of what i would find there. when we first arrived, it was still early and not many people were there, so we decided to head to a place called chit chat. chit chat was even worse! nobody was in there. we headed back to vibes and decided to just sit in there until the place filled up. as soon as i got out of my car, a guy approaches me. he's cute enough...caramel skin sheathed on a 6'0 frame, hair cut down near the follicle so that his scalped gleamed underneath the lights of the parking lot. he had an attractive smile and what turned out to be a rather nice voice. initially i was going to ignore him, but he stood in my path and wouldn't let me pass.

"wassup rasta queen," he said, his voice almost as dark as the night sky. his jamaican accent was thick as grape jam spreading across my toasted senses.

"wassup," i replied, as i looked him up from top to bottom.

"wouldn't you like to know," he said with deliberate sensuality. i thought to myself how forward the brotha was being when i'd only just met him. sure, he was sexy enough, but it's not like i'm not married and not complete stranger.

"actually, i wouldn't like to know, but thanks anyway..." i countered, before a quick sidestep had me walking away from him.

"i see," he paused, and i felt his eyes burning into my back. "you're playing hard to get." another pause. "that's okay, because i like to work for what is mine."

after hearing that last statement, i turned around, brow lifted in both inquiry and challenge. "is that so?" i looked into his eyes pointedly. "don't waste your efforts and my time working for something that most definitely isn't yours..."

"yet." he had the timing down on that particular interruption. he tilted his head and continued to stare. "you're not mine, yet, but you will be."

i lifted my brow again. i thought to myself yeah, this brotha was most definitely forward and most definitely sure of himself and i am most definitely stepping the fuck away from him and this conversation. i didn't bother answering him as i turned around again and walked towards the club entrance. before i get to the door, i looked over to the sidewalk on the right and saw a form silhouetted against the artificial light coming from the glass behind him. i noticed right away he had locs like mine, although his were longer and thicker. when i made eye contact with him, he yelled out "cum 'ere rasta gurl!"

i wasn't ready for yet another confrontation so i ignored the request and turned to the bouncer at the door who asked to see my i.d. after showing him the confirmation i was old enough to be stalked by the men in the club, i turned to the person at the front window and paid the ten dollars to get into the place.

as i step into the door i thought to myself "what could possibly happen next?"

what could, indeed...(pt. 3 next)