Who's On the Phone?

Geneva

My room mate and I are having friends, mostly her friends, over for Memorial Day. Noni and Caroline are both out of town. We like to call it a cook-in, because besides the raggedy fire escape, there’s definitely no place to put a barbeque. My crazy ass boyfriend will not be in the house today, and no… not because he has to study.

Yesterday he came over. Okay, maybe I need to give old dude an alias… so Paul. Yesterday Paul came over. We saw each other just one time since Mothers Day. He’s been acting stand offish and I’m too busy at work to ask why… or care. Okay, I take that back, I do care. But Paul is eccentric. He’s a classic intellectual. At times he’s funny and crazy and then he’ll crawl up in the box he calls a studio apartment and be all deep and moody. His two personalities are the reason it took us forever to actually fall in love, but we are in love, crazy in love to quote B’.

Paul came over last night. He wanted to play nice nice… and nasty nasty. He bought me some food, Jamaican, and some ginger beer. It was cute. We ate dinner on the couch and watched John and Kate Plus Eight reruns. I’m sorry, but all of us love that show. Not because they’re perfect, but because we know behind the scenes Kate must actually be crazy!

Anyways, everything was fine. My roommate was at her boyfriends. She had her dogs with her. (The two dogs she bought home without telling the other person who pays rent… ugh). The house was dark and quiet. Next thing I know Paul takes his shirt off and starts stroking my hair. I’m like yes! It’s been a minute since I hollered like Minnie Ripperton and my soul was actually aching for his body.

He may be crazy intellectual but Paul is so amazing he can look at me from across the room and make me wet. We had sex, the rough kind. I won’t say where but roommate might want to spray her little desk down before she does anywork. As his lips touched my clit, I found my self forgetting all about mothers day, and the week before mothers day when he pissed me off, and then everything before that. Wooowwww. We made our way onto my bed, continued doing it until we fell asleep.

It’s 4 AM. Do you know where your man is? In the damn bathroom. Wait, is he peeing. No, he’s talking. To himself… No, not to himself.

I sat up in bed, afro all out of shape. He was speaking so low with the damn door cracked I could barely make out what he was saying. It coulnd’t have been an emergency. WTF. I layed back down but I didn’t close my eyes. He knew I’d heard him. He walked back in, beautiful and but naked, put the phone on the night stand, rolled over and went to sleep.

The next morning he woke up and made us eggs and sausage. I threw on my robe, brushed my teeth, washed my face, sprayed on some scent. He acted like he was all into his food.

“what happened last night?”

“What you mean” he said reverting to his Brooklyn Speak.

“You were in the bathroom on the phone?” NEGRO!!!

“Nah. I’mma need you to not be in my business like that right now.”

Say what. I preceded to tell his nappy headed ass that it is my business my business because it’s my bathroom and that if he wanted to have private conversations at the crack of dawn then he could go outside on the sidewalk with the damn crazies and do so.

We got in an argument that consisted of me saying twice as much as he did. Arguing with Paul is like having it out with a wall. He left. Haven’t heard from him.

As I said, I need my girls. What is my life?

-Geneva