Thursday, February 09, 2006

a-maize-ing (pants on fire pt. 2)

i'd first met him on the train. i was on my way back from an impromtu birthday gathering at fat tuesdays in underground and i was just a little tipsy. when i first noticed he was staring at me, i dismissed him immediately. he definitely wasn't my type. i mean, i like them tall and dark-skinned but this cat had an innate corniness about him. i couldn't put my finger on it. maybe it was his pants that were just a bit too tight and a bit too high in the cuff or it could have been the white blazer that looked just a bit too dolemite-ish for me as it stretched snugly across his shoulders and chest. either way, despite the fact that his body looked damn near flawness underneath the clothing, the shallow side of me reared it's ugly head and screamed "HELL nah girl! that cat looks corny as FUCK."

so i turned my attention to the night time landscape speeding past my window, basking in my shallowed glory. i had been sitting there for about five minutes when i felt someone close by. i turned my head and found myself face to face with corny boy.

"hello," he said in a deeply-timbred voice that brought to mind a wool coat warming me in winter. i was taken aback.

corny boy has a voice like that? a few kernels dropped off of him but he was still carrying at least a bushel of the stuff on him.

"'sup," i replied, trying to keep the exchange as casual as possible. i mean, to say 'hello' might have him thinking i was interested. 'sup' is a greeting that implies indifference. i usually reserve this greeting for guys who do not immediately pique my interest.

he had moved from his seat across the aisle and was now sitting next to me. upon closer inspection, he wasn't bad looking at all. a short 'fro framed his face, which was all african, a strong and prominent nose that stood out beneath brown eyes fringed with thick black eye lashes. his lips had a sensual fullness to them. those look like pussy sippin' lips right there...

aiight, so corny boy was cute. he still had a herb-like quality to him, though.

"so..." he began, "where you headed?"

"home," i stated. it was best to keep my answers as short as possible. if i start using multi-syllabic words, brotha might think i was interested, which i wasn't. either he was oblivious to my disinterest or he was just determined to get me interested, cuz he continued on.

"i'm just leaving church myself."

church? on a saturday night? this cat must be a holy roller. HELL nah. i looked at him and said nothing.

"i'm a member of world changers church"

oh of creflo's folk.

now let me first say i have no problem with god or the church. i think god is good and church is there cuz folk need it. meanwhile, many of creflo's folk, in their eagerness to get other folk to believe in the word, have been known to get friendly with perfect strangers with the express purpose of trying to convince them to join their church. i've been approached by fine brothas in the past only to discover they were looking to recruit me into the church. i wanna kick creflo's ass for getting a sista's hopes up so high like that.

i squinted my eyes, suddenly suspicious of his intentions.

"you're not trying to get me to join your church, are you?"

"no, ma'am." he said quickly, trying to abate my reservations, "i just wondered to myself 'what's a beautiful girl like you was doing sitting on a train at night all alone?'"

"cuz i'm grown," i answered.

he chuckled. it was a nice sounding chuckle. i relaxed a bit, settling myself into the seat a little more. we regarded each other quietly. i knew i was looking pretty damn good in my short, black sundress with spaghetti straps crossing the back. my legs were crossed to expose just a little thigh, although that wasn't with the intention of catching anyone's attention. you know how it goes...we sistas are just naturally sexy. i saw him take a quick glance at my legs before returning his gaze to my face. my mouth tilted into a sly grin. yeah, i knew you couldn't resist at least one little peek. he returned the sly grin, as if to say i wasn't resisting it.

"so where's home?" he asked.

"i live in stone mountain."

"whereabout in stone mountain?"

"now do i look like the kind of fool that would tell a perfect stranger 'whereabout' i'm living in stone mountain?"

he sat back and looked at me as a smile parted his lips.

"no, i guess not."

"you could be a serial killer or something," i speculated. "or worse, you could be some overzealous church person determined to save me from the lure of satan. i think i'd prefer it if you were a serial killer."

we both laughed at that. man, but he had a nice laugh. that was an appealing trait. i was starting to reassess the situation.

as the train made its way towards my station, we continued making small talk. turns out we had a friend in common, which was good because i could grill her about his ass when i got home. when it was time for me to exit the train, he followed me onto the platform.

"so can i get your number and give you a call sometime?"

i thought about it for a second, quickly listing the pros and cons in my mind.

pros - great sense of humor, easy to smile, diesel bod, pussy sippin' lips.

cons - dresses like a starving pimp, appears to be a bit conservative with his views, is a member of a very large, very aggressive church.

hmmmmz...if he knows how to work those lips, i won't be giving a shit about what he's wearing.

"aiight," i finally answered.

we exchanged numbers, then i walked to my car, got in, and drove home. and then i called our mutual friend, kim.

five minutes into the conversation, kim had me thinking i had just exchanged numbers with the most pious, most repressed brotha in atlanta.

"is he really that much of a tight ass?" i asked her incredulously.

"girl, demetrius is such a tight ass, shit gotta come out of his asscheeks sideways!"

we both dissolved into giggling idiots at her joke while my overly active imagination began visualizing how that could happen.

"don't worry," kim reassured me, "he's pretty cool. i've worked with him for almost two years. he's the brotha who's always on time. i don't think he's ever been late for anything."

"oh," i sighed with relief,"that has to account for something."
i was remembering that conversation i'd had with kim last week as i stood there looking at the same cat she said was never late for anything. the same cat who was standing in my foyer after making me wait for two hours for his ass while he was at home, enthralled with the flawless fucking of his hands.

demetrius stood there expectantly.

"so are we still on?" he asked, a trace of nervousness in his voice.

i thought about the fact that he was still corny as hell. then i thought about the fact that he'd probably jacked his dick raw in the last two hours, which meant i wasn't gonna get any ass that night even if i'd wanted to. i thought about the velvet box in my hand. the box i still hadn't bothered to open. after a moment more of contemplation, i focused my attention on his face.

pussy sippin' lips...

"aiight," i finally answered.

come on folk. did you really think i was gonna say no??? i mean, not only does he have pussy sippin' lips, but brotha might let me watch him while he yanks his chain. i can't say no to that!

i walked to the coat rack, grabbed my coat and handed to him to help me get into it. as i'm placing my arms into the sleeves of the coat, i realize i've still got the box in my left hand. demetrius noticed it, too.

"aren't you going to open your gift?"

shrugging the coat onto my shoulders, i place a hand over the top of the box and opened it. nestled within the satin folds were a pair of earrings. a pair of peridot earrings. my birth stone. how did...

"kim told me your birthdate."

he was standing in front of me with a little more confidence in his stance. i lifted a brow in surprise at his thoughtfulness. so this gift was purchased in advance...

the kernels began falling from his form with a swiftness...