It was a hot and sticky night in ATL. The air was thick and humid, unusual for this time of year. I like to have a drink on my balcony to unwind every now and again, catch the sunset over the city, so I did. It’s April now summer is just around the corner. I have been residing in Atlanta for about six years now. I didn't plan on staying that long it just happened that way. After graduating from college I decided to give the city life a chance. I’m renting a loft downtown on Peachtree Street. It is the happening spot so I wanted to always have easy access to the night life. It was the least I could do after living in the dorms of a faraway college for so long. I attended a small college in Riverdale, Georgia.
I have BA in business with a minor in Communications. My life is okay I guess, but I long for so much more at times. I have a great job as a business consultant for a major local newspaper called ATL VENUE. It focuses on the up and coming lives of entertainers in the metro area in all areas of art; as well as restaurants, nightclubs, street festivals, and theatre attractions. I am a liaison for a number of sponsors giving them necessary information, getting that back to the paper which then informs the community of the haps. There's more to it but that's the gist of it.
My best friend Monet says I have a great life without kids and a husband to tend to but I totally disagree. Anyway what does she know? She would give anything to be in my shoes at the moment, single and free. Monet and I have traveled the same path together ever since second grade. We always attended the same schools and college. She majored in Nursing but ended up moving back home to our lil country town in Texas.
She is now married with two kids, a girl and a boy. Her marriage and life seems perfect while my life seems to be a mess. They say the grass always looks greener on the other side and from where I'm sitting, that turf’s mean green. The humid air brushed up against my face more now that the hour had grown later. I have been home for about two hours. I am contemplating if I want company or not? Tonight I guess I will opt no. It’s the middle of the week, Wednesday, I can hold out two more nights.
So I decided to call my best friend to see how she was doing. It was about nine o'clock there so she shouldn't be too busy. I dialed the number and the phone must have rang about four times before she answered hurriedly,
'Hello!' “Hey girl what’s up with you?”, I implied. Monet was never really too busy but tonight seemed different.
'Girl I just got in the door, Alvin had a baseball game tonight so we just getting in. Let me get things situated and feed the kids, I'll call you back in a lil while okay!'
Sure I replied sarcastically, thinking she wouldn't get back to me tonight. Alvin is her son and she had him in damn near every sport. This season it was baseball, next season football, poor child, he will be worn out. Monet insisted that this was the making of a great superstar athlete taking care of momma.
I chuckled at the thought. I would love to have a son to take care of me, better yet a Man. Here I am 25 years old, single successful, no kids and no man. All I did have was allot of drama and boredom. My friend Shakira says I just don't know how to make the best of my life. She lives three floors down from me. I live on the tenth floor. Did I mention the view was wonderful in my sky rise loft? Shakira was not only my friend, but she was the best and might I add a freak! She has all these crazy ideas about how life is supposed to be lived as a single black woman. I tried to understand her views but she has always lost me. I decided to call her and see if she wasn't too busy to keep a sistah company.
I dialed the number and the phone rang once and her voice mail picked up! “You have reached Shakira, Obviously I am entertaining so leave a message, I'll holla back!”
This girl is a trip. She has a day time message and an evening one. This was the evening one. I had struck out once again with the girlfriends. Shakira was getting her groove on definitely she had a dude for every day of the week! Surely I would get there again soon enough. She had learned these tricks from me. I had put them down for a minute in order to seek true love again, which I have yet to find. I guess it will come in time. That's what momma always says.
My choices of entertainment were getting quite slim. So I decided to finish my wine and take a nice hot bubble bath. I ran some water in my garden tub surrounded by lavender scented candle lights. The decor in my bathroom is light lavender, a rendition of my favorite color purple. That was the only reason for the lavender candles they matched. I am a real neat freak! Everything must be just right all the time. When it’s not then you know something is wrong with me. I took my shoes off and headed for my dresser. I pulled out one of my silk nighties an ex had brought for me. I tend to reminisce on my previous rendezvous to help me get through my present state. It’s soft and scented with oil I loved to wear, Black Woman. Another remnant an ex-lover had gotten me hooked to. It screamed my name!
I loaded my CD player with some relaxing music a little Sade, Kem, Erykah Badu and Outkast. Of course the first track to play was Prototype by Dre. I had it on repeat for a minute until I could get to my bath. I undressed and slipped into the tub. The steam in my lavender bath filled the room. The aroma filled the air.
I soaked in the tub as Dre told me how much he thought I was the prototype! Of course I knew this, I just wish he did! I was almost in a deep trance when my phone rang! Who could this be? It had to be after eleven by now and whoever it was must know I had to be to work in the morning for eight! I jumped up anticipating a great convo, and it was some fool with the wrong number. He had the nerve to try and get at me. As lonely as I was I started to entertain him, but then I thought of all the psychos in the city and quickly changed my mind.
I was desperate but not to that extent. I hung up the phone and continued to soak. Listening to Sade made things worse. I quickly bathed, got out the tub, and got into bed. I said my prayers, always praying for the man of my dreams, and then I fell asleep. I tossed and turned all night as I thought tomorrow has to be a better day.
I guess if I had gotten a good feel the night before I'd be alright. I was so frustrated sitting in my ride on I-75. Most people had to deal with the traffic getting downtown, but my journey everyday was on the other side of the perimeter in Roswell. My office was out there away from the average hustle and bustle of an Atlanta corporation. When I got to work I was pissed. I had been cut off by two idiots and damn near rammed into from behind. This is going to be a great Thursday I thought sarcastically. I parked my car in my assigned spot B12, gathered my things and headed towards the elevator. Lenny was waiting for me as usual. Every morning the security guard would woo me into the office.
'Good Morning, Keyone! How's it going?'
“Great”, I replied lying through my teeth, but I was not about to fill rentacop in on how my life was really falling apart. Although he probably thought he had every right to know, being that we had this work relationship for the past two years. We would speak and have small talk every now and again. Lenny was a fine brother though, tall, about 6'1 approximately 260 lbs. not too thick and not too small. A dark chocolate brother just like I liked them. He even groomed his self nicely. Low hair cut and nice goatee. I must admit the brother had it going on. He always reeked of Drakar though, that was a turn off to me.
Drakar is cologne that my grandma’s ex-boyfriend used to wear years ago. A brother his age should have more taste and be up to date with his choice of cologne. I just smiled and sashayed by him as always. Thinking how I would love to do him! Of course that would never happen. I mean what would people think of me? All I would do is fantasize about that one. Besides we worked in the same building.
To me that would be like dating a guy who goes to the same high school as you. Everyone is bound to be all in your kool-aid. I entered the elevator and before I could press the button for the fifth floor my cell was ringing. It was Shakira, dying to tell me about her night I presume. I answered, “What's up chic? Talk fast I'm on my way into the office.”
She responded, ‘Girl wait til I tell you about last night, this is definitely a face to face convo. Call me when you get off work and I'll come by before I go to the spot.'
“Alright, peace”, was my reply. I really had no intention on seeing Shakira. I had a lot of haterade in my system right now so it probably wouldn't be good for our relationship, but she wouldn't care anyways. That's just how she was. The spot is her place of employment. That was the codename we had given it. Shakira is an exotic dancer, or should I say a stripper at Hot Ecstasy. She preferred to be labeled as an exotic dancer and that's what she was.
Work was going quite well today! I got two major deals for an AIDS foundation that has a summit and testing fair coming in June. I also have two interviews with directors of local major nonprofit organizations. They are giving me some insight on what they have to offer the community. A little splurge piece my boss had offered me to test my writing skills. I handle business related issues mainly, but my love is writing.
I want to advance to that level if Mr. Byron Cane will let me, he's my boss. He hired me two years ago straight out of college. I've been elevating ever since.
Most people have an awkward relationship with their boss especially when they’re the opposite sex, but Byron and I had gotten beyond those issues. He’s been married twenty years strong and has three kids. Two sons and a daughter and as luck would have it, he says I remind him of his baby girl. I figure however I can score brownie points with the big guy let the chips fall where they may. I adore Byron! He is a great black man in his own right.
Achieved status by mere accomplishments of hard work and dedication. He has to be between the ages of forty-seven and fifty-one. I haven't quite figured it out yet, but he is a brilliant entrepreneur. He has his own company and employs a lot of his own kind from top to bottom. There is nothing like a black man with money and power. His wife is one lucky lady. One day, I too will have a man of his stature or even greater on my arm.
