click here for part one (or just scroll down to the next entry ya lazy bastid...)
four weeks later, i was on my way to fingaz's apartment for the first time for a night of dinner and discussion. as i pulled up and parked, i winced at the less than affluent landscape greeting me when i got out of my car. the scattered bones of broken bottles protruded from the ground, bleeding beer onto the asphalt. a decaying car sat disemboweled and abandoned inbetween the white lines of a parking space a few feet from me like the skeletal remains of a murdered rape victim exposed in a shallow grave. piled next to its final resting place was a piquant mountain of rotting perishables. someone's attempt at a tombstone for the dearly departed dodge neon?
"here lies the remains
of a car whose owner thought leaving
the keys in the ignition while
she ran into the store for some cigarettes
was a good idea..."
even lojack can't guard against that kind of stupidity...but yet again, i digress (sorry chele).
anyway, the area looked like a cemetery for sobriety and security. now, i'm not a snob (for the most part) but i do prefer a guy who lives in a spot that won't have me fearful i'll be killed by a stray bullet shot from the gun of some twelve-year-old seeking initiation into the neighborhood gang. i ducked unconsciously, anticipating the need to protect myself from the invisible projectile headed towards me in the murkiness. the streetlights provided threadbare fluorescence, their silver filaments sticking upon the cloak of night like burnished balls of lint.
the hallway leading to his front door was gaping before me, a gingivitis sufferer yawning beneath an orthodontist's inquiry. the planks beneath my feet were gritty and uneven, two by fours discolored and cracked like rotting teeth. urine stained diapers lay embedded in the spaces between them like plaque. a bulb was suspended from the ceiling above me, an enflamed uvula emitting the off-white glow of infected illumination upon faded red enamel paint falling in flakes from the walls.needless to say, i wasn't impressed.
i folded my upper lip over my nostrils as the stench of sour living stuck to me like flypaper.
gingerly stepping over a rusted bicycle, i made my way to his door, wiping my shoes on the welcome mat extending from his front step like a tongue. i gathered my body into a semblance of confidence before pulling the knocker. fingaz answered about 30 seconds later, standing there in a white wife-beater and a pair of jeans hung low from his hips.
"your hall has halitosis," i said in a weak attempt at cleverness.
"hunh?" he responded in confusion, letting me know i'd failed miserably.
"never mind."
his eyes were roaming over various parts of my body before finally settling upon the slightly ironic twist of my lips.
"dude, you gonna invite me in to dinner or devour me out here?" i asked, both flattered and irritated. his lips formed a small smile as he stepped back, opening the door wider.
"welcome to my abode," he said, bowing as he swept his arm behind him. i stepped across the threshhold and glanced around, quickly quelling my horror. it was definitely a bachelor's pad. i was standing in the living room where his couch took up most of the space. it was up against the wall, a mangy mongrel of matted brown wool, wide padded shoulders, and short pine legs, squatting low like it was about to drop a log. it looked pungent and flea-bitten and rabid.no way in hell i was gonna sit on that couch.
i walked further into the room and almost thanked the lord aloud when i spied a plastic chair next to the mutt, i mean, couch. sitting down, i turned my attention to the rest of the decor, squinting my eyes in covert dismay at the black lacquer glass-topped coffee table sporting faux gold accents, a pimp's lean, and chinese tatoos. moving my gaze to the carpet, i clenched my mouth before it could fall agape. it looked like the head of a lice-infested child with its bald spots exposed between tufts of textile. not.a.good.look. luckily the lighting in the room was purposefully reduced to a weak glow, concealing most of the flaws behind a heavy application of shadow.
the walls were bruised, bare, and stabbed with holes, assaulted with the deadly weapons of metal tacks and picture frames. while it was obvious he didn't give much thought to his furniture, his electronics were another thing altogether. a huge plasma screen television hung from the wall to the right of me and there were speakers perched like crows in every corner of the room. directly to the left of the television was a receiver and multi-disc player, along with a tower of cds and dvds. my gaze fell upon the black box standing upright in the middle of the floor in front of the television, a shrine to hours of mindless activity.
"ps2...of course," i said knowingly. fingaz smirked.
"of course."
there was a scent wafting in the air...you know...the common smell found in all bachelor pads. it's the odor letting you know you're just one vagina in a long line of meaningless fucks...
"it smells like ass in here," i stated as i tilted my head upward and sniffed exaggerately, catching a wiff of cologne, "no...let me take that back...it smells like ass that's been splashed with 'farenheit'."
he played along (although to be fair, i wasn't joking).
"i've got some dirty drawers in my bedroom," he replied dryly, "wanna see?" (hopefully he was joking...)
"i'm sorry. it wasn't meant as an insult," contriteness colored my words, "i'm just sayin...every single guy i know has this same smell in his apartment."
"it comes with the cable," he deadpanned as he stepped around me and headed to the kitchen. a bark of laughter escaped my lips, ending in a hiccup. he turned to me with a brow lifted in inquiry.
"sometimes when i laugh, it ends with a hiccup." i said by way of explanation, shrugging nonchalantly. he nodded as he pulled two glass tumblers from his cabinet.
"you want anything to drink?" he asked, "i've got water, kool-aid, coke, wine, and henny."
"what kind of wine?"
"red."
"what kind of red wine?"
"the kind made from grapes fermented into an alcoholic beverage."
smart ass...
"i'll take a glass of that then."
how come dry wit makes me wet? that's a phenomena i've yet to figure out...
anyway, i was wet and we hadn't even eaten dinner yet. dinner turned out to be pizza ordered from da hut, with strawberries and cream for dessert (and no, that's not code for carnal activities ya nasty bastids). throughout the evening fingaz and i kept volleying barbs back and forth and i was enjoying myself thoroughly. he had a keen mind and as that's one thing guaranteed to make me wanna drop the grannies, i was ripe and ready by the time the midnight hour rolled around. meanwhile, i had to play it cool. eventually we were sitting side by side on the floor, paper plates pushed aside, ps2 controllers resting in our laps, a tumbler of wine in our hands. i was a bit lit and my whoremones were battling against my better judgement.
"it's getting late," i began with the statement certain to get a guy to speed up his action with a quickness, "i should be getting home."
he shook his head and smiled slyly, a devil's look in his eyes.
"it's still early. you don't have to leave now," he followed the script to a tee, adding seductively, "better yet, you don't have to leave at all..."
"nah," i continued with the farce, "i've gotta be somewhere in the morning."
fingaz stared at me intently. then he leaned over and plucked the tumbler from my hand, moving in to kiss me before i could say another word. his lips were...so very soft and warm, like the space beneath a down blanket on a winter morning. he slowly traced my lower lip with his tongue, painting illustrations of passion upon my mouth. i gasped as i opened my mouth eagerly and welcomed his invasion, slanting it beneath his like a droughted flower thirsty for a drop of rain. all of my senses overwhelmed me except for my common sense which had passed out an hour before, somewhere between the fourth and fifth glass of wine. the heat between us was building to an intolerable level as our hands began feverishly feasting on the form of the other. we ended up supine upon the floor, his body cloaking mine as i was pressed into the remnants of the rug. it was then i was briefly snatched out of the moment as the smell of dog shit hit my nostrils.
is that the carpet?!?
i quickly rolled us over until i was on top of him, pouring myself into him until we were a writhing mix of sipping lips, undulating hips, and straining grips. our clothes became cumbersome, muting the flames of our ardor like kindling that smoked but refused to spark. eventually the kiss ended with me slowly nipping his lips, unwilling to break the contact completely. we held each other closely until our breathing evened, then stared into each others eyes as the silence around us magnified the sound of our heartbeats.
it was time...
i rolled off of him until i was in a sitting position, dropping my chin to rest upon my drawn up knees. he stood up and held out his hand. i thought about refusing for all of a millisecond before i placed my hand in his. he pulled me up and led me to his bedroom...
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pt. 3 tomorrow (don't be mad...it's too damn long as it is!)
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