Wednesday, December 8, 2010


    As I am walking through the mall, my attention diverts to a cinnamon bark colored suede jacket on the rack in the men's section, I can see through the window of the SYMS Store.  I wonder how that would matchup with my suede Fila high-top sneakers.  My mind wanders as I create a visual image of wearing the two items together.

    "Strings, C'mon", the words start to fade out almost as soon as they are in the air.

    A sudden squeak of my shoes, similar to the sound of sneakers in rapid motion on a gymnasium floor is the only reply I give.  I zig and zag my way through the throng in the center of the hall and cut  the corner, rounding Burger King, while heading towards the exit.  It is at this time, I see Tommy exiting the second set of the double doors and moving abreast of the Coca-Cola Machine to the right.  I increase my speed to narrow the distance gap between myself and Tommy.  In my rush to make haste, I disregard the precarious position of my slouching  dark blue denim pants.  Just as I am about nine strides from the first set of double doors beneath the exit sign, my pants decide to betray me and drop to my knees, tripping me in the process.

Attempting to salvage a small portion of my dignity, I tuck and roll to my feet.  Whew! That was close.  In congratulating myself, on the save from the face flop I momentarily forgot about my pants being below my knees.  Now, displaying my underwear to the unsuspecting  public would be mortifying enough, however, today being NO DRAWERS WEDNESDAY at school (who would have ever thought that concept would take hold.  As many girls as guys participate, if not more ), to the astonishment of a gaggle of girls at the opening of the movie theater to my left, I am completely naked from hip to knee.  Even though, my nude modeling debut is only for the briefest of moments, each guffaw of laughter is like a lash from a wet whip to my pride and psyche.  With one swift jerk,  I return my pants to their proper position [where, within two strides they slide down to four inches below my waist].

    An eternity later, I emerge from the second set of double doors of the mall, into the beginning of the first stage of dusk.

    I find Tommy waiting curbside, in his Suzuki Samurai, wearing a perplexing expression [part annoyance, part anxious].  Without a word I hop into the passenger side seat, feeling like my hair should be on fire, to signify what had just transpired a few moments earlier in the mall.  I reach over and give the knob on the stereo a full clock-wise turn, increasing the sound of the Junk Yard Band emanating from the two ten inch woofer MTX Speaker boxes.  In order to make conversation more difficult as well as soothe my wounded pride by losing myself in the rhythms and percussions of the music.

    Tommy accelerates the jeep forward, lurching away from the curb, rounding curves and corners, and shifting and down shifting like a madman.

    At the same time I grab a hold of, and maintain a firm grip on the inside overhead passenger side handle for some relief from all the starts and jerks of the gear "snatching" which passes for shifting.  Expecting to see the long-handled gear shifter come out of its moorings into Tommy's  hand, I settle into enduring the less than comfortable, but, all too familiar ride as we blow through stop signs and speed through light after light.

    "Hey yo, we got time to stop at the store?", I shout over the music.

    Tommy's "Nope" sounds like a whisper compared to the backdrop of the percussions of the music.

    The sardonic smile he wears, piques my curiosity.  Figures, any question I ask would probably be met with just as vague of an answer.  And I refuse to give Tommy the satisfaction of asking the destination we're racing towards.  
    Tommy turns the vehicle onto a side street, I recognize as the road that the church we are forced to attend at least one out of every four Sundays resides upon.

    I tap Tommy on the shoulder with the back of my hand and nod in the direction of the 7-Eleven the jeep is approaching on the right hand side.

    "Yo, get some gum, too"


    Reentering the vehicle, I hold out the gum to Tommy and begin to stir my banana and coke slurpee.

    About a quarter of a mile later, Tommy makes a left into a well lit parking lot adjacent to a small apartment building.  As if from thin air, out pops this fine  redbone [very light skin female, usually with red or brown hair] at the driver's side window.  She looks past Tommy and greets me.  She's about five feet, seven inches, reddish brown hair just passed shoulder length, and an athletic body with slight curves.

    Not bad at all.  Hmm, I wonder if she has a friend.  Gotta play it cool, I'll wait for the opportunity to ask arises.

    Tommy opens the door and hops out of the jeep, looping his arm around redbone's shoulders.

    "Hey man, leave the keys!"

    "chnnngg!" , the keys chime as I snatch them from the air.  It is at this time that I notice another girl approaching the jeep from the shadows.  Has she been there the whole time?  As she emerges into the fullness of the soft yellow street lamp light, I can see right away she's one of the most unattractive girls I've ever had the misfortune of laying eyes on.  Not that I'd win a prize in a beauty contest, but c'mon. Did Tommy have a hand in this?!

    Caught completely by surprise, my mind freezes as I try to decide what to do..............

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