**STORY WEEK**: "The Greyhound Blues, Part I"

Good merning, Boys and Girls...

Gather around the Oldgirl, why don't cha!

It's the first story week of the year!

Aren't you excited?! I know I am.

I like story week. I usually use it as a warm-up for the start of my writing class, but this week, that's not the case. I am in a 10 week writing workshop right now, and I am pushing the first 10 chapters of Fancy That through that class, and the process seems to be more grueling than it should be. I must admit that I like the regular fiction class better because the teacher gives more instruction. In that writing workshop, well, we seem to have to stick with one project. We listen to readings of each other's work then we do some in depth, hellacious critiquing. (YIKES!)

Problem is... I work on several stories at a time. Not sure if I'm suppose to, but I have the attention span of a flea, and I like to jump around alot from story to story.

So alas... we have the Lifetime television for women story, "The Greyhound Blues".

LOL!!

If you can remember, I wrote this piece for Ta.yari Jones' 37th birthday!

(Ta.yari, I am older than you!! LOL! Okay, that ain't funny.)

The story was open-ended, and left many unanswered questions. MANY. So much so that I just kept on writing. And I'm STILL working on it.

And many questions are left unanswered. But I've written several more parts, and have passed it around to the bootleg Original Oldgirl Elite Critique Committee, and they REALLY liked it... more than expected. So all week long, I will post the different parts. Valentine's day will be the best part because there is a hint of uh, romance, all up in that part, lol. After each part, as my usual custom, I will do an Afterword to explain my thought processes.

I went back and edited part I, the intro, and I will repost here.

So this week...

I bring to yoooooooou!!

The Greyhound Blues!!!!

Starring Taya.ri Jonnnnnnnnes!!!

Enjoy!!!

Tay.ari knew she was looking good…

She had her Versace pink fur coat on,
Her Jimmy Choo crocodile boots with the clear Lucite wedge heels…
Her hair was done,
And her nails were fierce (fierce)…
And she was about to get on that Greyhou.nd bus…

(Don’t. you. want. to ride?)

Tay.ari hated buses.

Whoever came up with the idea of slapping wheels on an oversized bread box and packing people in sardine-tight needed to be shot.

But right now, it was a means to an end, for Tay.ari was attending the Brand New Hea.vies
concert that night. Ta.yari had been following the band up and down the Eastern Seabord for several years, and the “Hound” was the most affordable mode of transportation. She’d promised herself that she would start taking Air Tra.ns, since the plane ticket prices from D.C. to New York had been cut in half, but the flights were always booked solid.

Last month, after one of the more frantic Brand New Hea.vies New York concerts, she ran into the band’s lead singer N’de.a at a diner on the east side of town. N’de.a recognized Taya.ri from the front row of several concerts, and she invited her to sing a song on stage with them at the next one if she wanted to.

Of course T.ayari said she would.

And if that meant one more ride on "the Hound", then so be it.

The afternoon bus from D.C. to New York was already behind schedule, and once the driver gave the signal for everyone to load up, passengers rushed forward, jockeying for position.

Ta.yari leaned against a metal pole near the back of the bus and watched the restless crowd. She pulled her Fend.i lighter from her Doone.y and Burk.e giraffe print purse and lit her last Virginia slim cigarette. She threw the empty pack to the ground.

“You know,” a tall slender black dude with a short afro said. He walked towards her. “You should pick that up. Littering is against the law.”

Taya.ri reached down and picked up the crumpled pack and placed it in her coat pocket.

"I'm Aaron," he said. "Aaron Fletcher."

She peered at him over her sunglasses. He grinned and extended his hand. He had nice pearly white teeth and a nice body. And those thick eyebrows and mustache were to die for. He ws the color of burnt sienna. . .

. . . without the burn.

But he wasn’t her type. He was a bit too neat. She always thought twice about a man who took too much time to iron a crease as perfect in his jeans as this guy did.

“You know,” Taya.ri said, “you should mind your own business.”

His bright smile dissolved into a hard frown. Taya.ri turned away, and blew smoke into the air.
Just then, hot air from the bus exhaust blew the cigarette from her fingers. It landed in a puddle of rain water nearby. Tay.ari watched as it floated on top, then slowly sank under.

“That’s what you get,” the guy said. He laughed and walked towards the bus entrance.

That was her last cigarette, and she didn’t have time to go buy another pack.

She dug in her coat pocket for the crumpled pack, hoping that another cigarette would miraculously materialize. There was one there, but it was smashed and bent hard in three places.

It would have to do for now. The taste would be off, but she could get past that. She rolled it between her fingers to straighten it, lit it up, and took a long drag.

The last passenger stepped on the bus. The the bus driver pointed at Tay.ari, beckoning her to come along.

Tay.ari exhaled smoke. “I’ll be there as soon as I finish my cigarette.”

The bus driver snapped his fingers and ran his hands over his large stomach. “No, no Miss Lady, we’re on a schedule. You need to come on right now. Right now.”

Tayar.i looked away and continued smoking.

“Alright gal, I see you think I’m playing with you.” He ran up the steps of the bus.

Tay.ari shook her head. All she needed was two or three more minutes and she’d be finished with her smoke. Three hours was a long time to be on the bus without a cigarette, much less having to track down a pack once she got off. She was going to lean against the pole until the ashes hit the filter.

The bus pulled off a few feet. Taya.ri ran up to the door and banged on the window. The bus driver snatched the door open.

“Yeah, I thought you’d get the message,” he said.

Taya.ri slowly ascended the stairs. She wanted to wipe that silly smirk off the bus driver’s face. She turned and headed down the aisle. The pearly toothed brotha was smiling hard at her. He hastily moved his jacket to the side and patted the empty seat beside him. There was no way she was sitting with him. He would bug her to no end, and that wasn’t happening tonight. She wanted to at least sit by herself so she could stretch out her legs, and even catch a little sleep.

And even dream a little about her debut with the Brand New Heav.ies.

Luckily there was an empty row of seats midway back, just behind a young boy playing some type of hand held game. He sat next to a frizzy-haired woman. His mother, Ta.yari presumed. The woman was hastily flipping through the pages of what appeared to be a romance novel.

Ta.yari wasn’t a fan of such books. Chewing gum for the brain, that’s what they were. She had paperback copies of her own novels, The Unte.lling and Leaving Atla.nta, in her purse and thought about offering them to the woman, but she decided to pass on that. She wasn’t in the mood to talk. She’d had a long day and just wanted to get to the concert.

T.ayari slid into the seat directly behind them. She settled in and threw her purse to the side. The boots she wore were fly, but they were beginning to hurt her feet. She should've worn her pink Timberlands, as she always wore them with her pink fur coat. But she wanted to look hot for her singing debut with her favorite band.

And pink Timberlands were out of the question.

She was feening unusually hard for the rest of the cigarette she’d hidden well enough in her hand.. Since no one was looking, she flicked out her lighter and quickly lit it again. She blew smoke out of the slightly cracked window.

“Who’s smoking back there?” the bus driver yelled after a couple of minutes..

No one said a word. Taya.ri stayed cool, blew more smoke out the window.

“Let me remind ya’ll that there’s no smoking on this bus." He pointed at the blinking no smoking sign. "Now whoever’s smoking better put it out or get off the damn bus.”

Tayar.i held the crimped cigarette up closer to the window and watched the gray flume of smoke unfurl into the cold night air. She leaned back in the lumpy seat and closed her eyes. The bus was already behind schedule, and it was just a matter of time before the bus driver got the notion to get moving.

In the meantime, she was going to continue smoking. Just a few more long draws, and she'd be finished.

“I’ma ask one last time. Who the hell smoking back there?”

Again, no one said a word. All was quiet, save for the hard hum of the engine. Tay.ari exhaled smoke slowly through her mouth and inhaled it through her nose.

“It’s the black lady. The black lady with the big sunglasses and the pink cat hair coat.”

Taya.ri sat up straight, opened her eyes. The boy, who’d been seated in front of her, was now standing in his seat, staring hard and pointing at her, his stubby finger only a few inches from her face.

“The black lady right here, Mister,” he yelled. “She’s smoking.”

Tayar.i’s breath caught in her throat. There was a frantic commotion at the front of the bus, then the sound of heavy footfsteps getting closer and closer. Suddenly, the driver was standing over her, his hands on his hips, his plump face tight as a fist.

“Lady, I don’t know what your problem is, but you better put out that damn cigarette.”

The pearly tooth brother, that Aaron guy, was suddenly standing next to the bus driver, a hard look of concern on his face. "Everything alright back here?" he asked.

"I got this," the bus driver said. He pointed to the front of the bus, and got up in the brotha's face. "I got this. Go sit back down. I can take care of this."

Aaron hesitated. He cut his eyes at Tayar.i, then at the frizzy-haired woman in front of her. He backed away, and headed for his seat.

Ta.yari raised the cigarette to her lips, and took an extra long drag. She was caught, might as well work it. “This is my last cigarette, and I’m gonna smoke it.”

She blew smoke into the bus driver’s face.

The boy looked back and forth between Ta.yari and the bus driver. The boy’s mother pulled him down out of the seat.

“But Mom, the lady is smoking!”

“I know, Johnny, but let the nice bus driver handle it.”

Tayar.i took another long drag and blew smoke straight up into the air.

The bus driver cocked his head . “I’m going to have to ask you to get off this bus.”

“Uh, no. I paid for my ticket, and I make my singing debut tonight.” Ta.yari pointed towards the front of the bus. “What you need to do is get up there and do your job. Drive us to New York City.”

They stared at each other for what seemed like forever. Finally the bus driver marched back up to the front of the bus.

Aaron walked back and snatched Ta.yari's purse from the unoccupied seat. He sat next to her. “Yo girl, just put out the cigarette so we can get moving," he whispered. He looked up and down the aisle, then at Taya.ri.

Tayar.i exhaled hard. Smoke floated all around her. She snatched her purse from him without even looking his way. Why were they bothering her? If they’d just left well enough alone, she would’ve finished her cigarette by now.

He tried to take the cigarette from her, but she jerked it out of his reach. He left and went back to his seat.

After a couple of minutes, the bus driver stood up and asked for everyone's attention. “Listen up, everybody. I don’t have to put up with this shit. I been on this job thirty-five years. My retirement starts next Monday. It’s Friday night, and I could be at home right now instead of fooling with mess. And that’s what I’m gonna do. You all have a good evening, and get to New York the best way you can.” He grabbed his belongings and stomped off the bus.

Tayar.i stood up and stared out the window after him, hoping he would return. Didn’t he know she was suppose to debut tonight with the Brand New Heavies?

“Come back,” she yelled. “I sing tonight!”

He continued to walk away, eventually disappearing in the crowd..

Taya.ri noticed the bus was a bit too quiet. She turned around.

All eyes were on her.

“Well I’ll be,” the old woman sitting across from her said. She’d been crocheting. She threw the yarn and needle to the floor. “My family reunion starts tomorrow, and because of this heffa and her cigarette, I’m gonna miss it.”

Taya.ri stared at her. She stared into every cold angry face on the bus.

That lady was to spend time with her family the next morning. And no telling what little Johnny and his mother had planned. The pearly toothed brotha, this Aaron man, probably had things to take care of, too.

Taya.ri grabbed her purse, snatched her fur coat tightly around her, and stepped hard to the front of the bus.

“Oh, now you want to get off,” Aaron spat. “You should've thought about that earlier.”

Tayar.i glared at him. He held her stare.

He was starting to look good to her.

She’d have to get his number later.

“I’m not getting off the bus.” She grabbed the door handle and pulled the door shut. She slid into the driver’s seat. “We’re going to New York.”

“You can’t do that,”the old woman said. “You’ll kill us all.”

“Oh, we’re going to New York,” Taya.ri yelled. She finished the last of her cigarette and tossed the spent butt out the window. “And I’m going to get us there.”

She revved the engine, adjusted the seat and mirror…

…And headed out of the bus station.

Afterword

This is a story that I derived from Tay.ari's love for chasing the Brand New Hea.vies all over the Northeast via the gr.eyhound bus. One day, she was on the bus and the bus driver started GOING OFF hard because someone was smoking on the bus. I joked with her about that, accusing her of smoking on the bus. ("Next time, put that cigarette out, Tay.ari")

Ta.yari doesn't smoke. (Do you, Ta.yari?). But when one is dressed to kill like that in the pink fur coat and the croco boots, a cigarette is just the thing needed to complete the scene, LOL.

She has a bizarre pink fur coat that she absolutely loves. (That is an actual picture up top, courtesy of her publicist's site, luxlotus.com) She gave a talk back in February, and she wore the croco boots with the lucite wedge heel. And she is feenin for the Doon.ey and Bur.ke giraffe print purse line right about now.

But I thought to myself... All of this- the bus, the coat, the band, the boots- is waaay funny.

I need to do something with that.

So "The Greyho.und Blues" was the result.

I thought it was odd that she chases the Hea.vies around. (Much like some of you think it is odd that I'm such a stalky fan of hers, LOL.) But the Brand New Hea.vies have a cult following of some sort, as a few other bloggers chase them around, too. But she loves the band, and even met the lead singer in a club or diner recently.

That first part of the story, the mini-prelude: you should recognize that as a bootleg rendition of Brenda Co.oper's monologue at the beginning of Klymaxx's "The Men All Pause". I wanted to work in the late monologue in the song (Slap me... no somebody slap me, because I know I'm looking good, attitude all over the room, people staring at me... I, I, I just look to good for these people!) but I could not figure that out. Now, what's really funny, yesterday, after a few of the Original Oldgirl elite critique team read the story, we were all in the lab prepping samples. Ol Mean Ass Cynthia and myself broke out into a very spirited AND on-key version of "The Men All Pause". OH JOY! I love that song! And we remembered all the words to it, which is a bit, uh disturbing.

LOL

Too many questions abound:

Someone asked "What happens next, Lee?"

Who knows? I'm going to switch out her name for some other swahili name, give the brotha a name, etc., and use this in my class (Ain't I industrious?). I would like to develop the character a bit, and see where it takes me.

Now...

Will Ta.yari get to NYC and make her debut with the group?

Can Tayari even drive a bus?

Is Tay.ari gonna give little Johnny's mother complimentary copies of her book?

And what's up with Aaron Fletcher, the "pearly tooth" brother?

And the more important question...We know she don't like the brothers with the hard crease in the blue jeans, but will Tayari get that brotha's phone number?

Hmmm... I don't know. We'll let Ta.yari figure all that out!!

LOL!!