Fuzzy lines… fade to black… harp music… digging back in the past.
I was going to go into my little story, but I um, guess I should give a little background on how I met Tiny, i.e., that tasty piece of eye candy.
I met Tiny a little over a year and a half ago, I believe, when my house was being built. I lived on the southside in College Park at the time. I worked a few minutes from LadyTee (she worked in Buckhead, I in Midtown) and since she was having car trouble, she was riding with me for the week, and I would drop her off at home in Fairburn. We were both ecstatic about riding together because we rarely see each other. A good hour together everyday always did us a world of good.
At the time, my house was currently being built in a downtown community, and it was a few miles from my job, along our usual route to the southside. We usually drove by just to gawk at the progress.
Well, my coworker, the Infamous Hen-Dog lived on the same street. We usually stopped by his house and, as the old folks use to say, “sit a spell.”We sat around and looked at TV for a good half hour, LadyTee on the love seat, me in my favorite recliner. (Now you know it’s a shame when you have your favorite seat at someone’s house and would beat the brakes off ANYONE who is seated in it when you arrive… that’s how I am!)
Well, LadyTee was talking trash…
“Lee, we gotta be getting on up out of here! I got stuff to do!”
I was like cool, let’s go…
Hen-Dog, who was lounging on the sofa, said “Ya’ll hold up a minute, I want ya’ll to meet my homeboy.”
Okay, I was not interested in meeting some damn overrated self-absorbed Que-Dog. I looked over at LadyTee, who was kicking the hard scowl, with her purse slung over her shoulder, keys clenched tightly in her hand…
...ready to go.
“Alright Hen,” I said, “but we gotta go.”
Hen-Dog called out to Tiny, who was upstairs. He said he would be down in a minute.
My ears perked up at the sound of Tiny’s deep baritone voice. A slight frown clouded my face. Hmm, that voice sounds kinda good, I thought to myself.
LadyTee even sat up straight.
Still, I didn’t care to meet some self-absorbed frat boy. Uggh!!
Well, he came downstairs. I remember catching a crook in my neck looking at him.
…Imagine Smoky and Ice-Cube sitting on the porch in the movie Friday yelling
Daaaaayuuummmmmnnnn!
Um, that is how LadyTee and I were. Hard HARD lean included.
A high-yella brother, at least 6’2”, buffed up, hair all wavy and snatched back into a long ponytail, a pair of nice light blue jeans on that show off his butt just right, a cotton shirt hanging on his upper body just right to show off some wonderfully delicious muscular definition...
As my grandmother would say… Goodness gracious alive…
I am the consummate tomboy, but um…he brought out the “Lady” in “LadyLee”.
LadyTee was over on the sofa all quiet, in the midst of a mental orgasm of some sort.
You know I had to touch this Adonis. I leaned forward and reached out my hand as an offer for a handshake. His nails were nice and clean. His hand was nice, not too soft, not too rough. It was just right.
I almost pulled a Ray Charles move. I wanted to grab his wrist, but I didn’t. LOL!
He sat down on the sofa next to Hen-Dog. I was still leaning forward, looking at him.
Yeah, I was bad about it.
LadyTee and I were not expecting to see all of THAT come stomping down the stairs, you see.
I cut my eyes over at LadyTee. She saw me glancing her way. She casually threw her purse down, and dropped her cell phone to the side. She leaned back, crossed her legs, and casually draped her arm across the back of the loveseat. For a second there, I thought she was gonna kick off her high heels.
This meant we were hanging out for awhile, you see.
LadyTee has a passion for high-yella men. I, LadyLee like my men chocolatety… Hershey bar dark or darker.
But eye candy is eye candy, right??
All I know, the Infamous Hen-Dog, who refuses to feed visitors (quote: “feeding negroes is like feeding stray cats”), delivered up a scrumptious and delectable piece of eye candy that day!
Well, Tiny was pecking away on a huge Sony laptop. I questioned him about his laptop, since I was in the market for one as soon as I closed on my house. I asked a few questions about other stuff, about himself, etc. LadyTee kind of just sat there and stared…
We weren’t paying much attention to Hen. As far as we were concerned, the Infamous Hen-Dog was a quiet picture on the wall, a lone lamp on the table, or a dry plant in desperate need of watering…
…A mere fuzz ball in the carpet.
In other words, he was ignored for the moment.
We were too busy looking at Tiny.
Hen-Dog had a fabulous idea (in his own mind, at least.). “Me and Tiny were about to head out to Shannon Mall to do some shopping. You and LadyTee heading that way… Why don’t you drop him off?”
My heart caught in my throat after that suggestion. I again glanced at LadyTee, and saw a smile tug at the corners of her lips and her eyes narrow.
She was plotting.
I relaxed back into the soft recliner… “Yo, um, Hen-Dog… He can roll with us for a fee, say, a hundred bucks.”
Hen laughed. He thought I was joking, but I was not. I’m not sure what Tiny was thinking. I am sure they were both wondering why I would say such a thing.
Well LadyTee and I left after an hour or so. Time we got in the car we talked about Tiny like a dog. We had caught a few cavities after all that candy!
LadyTee: Lawd have mercy, he sho was fine!
LadyLee: Girl, did you see that long pretty ponytail? Man, I bet it cost a fortune to keep that negro’s hair up!
LadyTee: He is fine as hell, though! Damn!
LadyLee: Did you see that big ass laptop he had? Dang! I bet that cost a fortune! I bet some woman bought it for him!
LadyTee: LadyTee shivers as if hit with a cold blast of air. “That boy there! Whoo, gurl! He was fine and sexy.”
LadyLee: Shoot did you see him though? A sista would go broke trying to keep that dude all pretty like that! Do you realize that you have to be a Ninja or a damn jedi knight to keep scandolous broads away from him?
LadyLee: There was NO WAY he was getting in my car. I wasn’t taking him anywhere, because I know you, LadyTee.
LadyTee: Yes Lawd! Because he wasn’t gonna make it to the mall. We were going straight to my house.
LadyLee: Yeah I know… and I wasn’t going to be held responsible for that! Hen-Dog would kill me!
LadyTee just thought he was fine. I was more concerned about the scenario of having to watch a negro closely or having to come up out of the pocket with much bread to keep dude lovely...
(Deeper question: Why on earth was I even making an assumption about him???)
Humph.
Anyway, I spoke with Hen-Dog the next day and promptly let him know that I was sorry for not taking his homeboy to the mall, and the only way I could properly deliver Tiny to the mall was for some cash. That way, I could have a reason to hold off LadyTee and her plotting ways.
I told him, LadyTee was going to get that!
He thought that was funny. But I know my girl and her passion for red men!
I told Hen-Dog that that dude was a bit too pretty. A sista would go broke trying to keep his hair fixed, trying to keep that ponytail just right, and trying to keep him dressed right. Depression and fatigue would set in after trying to keep up with him. A sista would have battle scars after scrapping with women, trying to keep them away from him.
That ish right there is a BIG turnoff. I can’t stand a pretty ass man.
Plus, I like my men Hershey bar dark or darker. This disqualifies pretty Tiny from my stable of men! LOL!!!
I spoke to Hen-Dog’s neighbor, a lesbian name Kim, sometime later. She was sitting on her front porch, in shorts, tanktop, head scarf and house shoes, enjoying the summer breeze, sipping cold Budweiser beer from a wine glass, as was her usual habit. I sat in a chair next to her.
“LadyLee did you meet PonyTail?”
“Who?”
“PonyTail, you know, Hen-Dog’s roommate?”
“You mean that dude Tiny?”
“Yeah, I call him Ponytail.” She delecately raises her wine glass to her lips and takes a sip of her beer. She has a look in her eye that, um, I didn’t think a lesbian would have when talking about a man.
I shrugged. “Yeah, I met him. He’s cool.”
“Cool? He cool? Hell, that n**** is fine as hell!” she screamed. She shivered hard, so hard that she almost dropped her wineglass.
*crickets*
*LadyLee peers curiously at Kim, gets up slowly from the chair on her porch, and walks away… scratching head in complete and utter confusion.*
I spoke with Hen-Dog for several days about this. I was still just perplexed at the amount of money and fortitude a sista would need to take care of such a pretty negro.
“Hen-Dog, I bet I can tell you what kind of car he drives.”
“What kind?” he asked.
“A candy apple red Mustang.”
“He sure does. How you know?”
“Because you can look at his pretty ass and tell.”
Tiny’s car was in Arizona at the time. He went and retrieved it and drove it back across country.
Very nice car.
Very LOUD car.
A few months later, I rode in his car... we decided to go do our grocery shopping together. You know, one of them kill two birds with one stone type of things.
Two words…
NEVER. AGAIN.
Stay tuned for "The Blood Ride".
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