Sue me. Right there at Goodwill I found myself physically attracted to her and we coincidentally completed our purchases at the same time, different registers.
Okay, so I met her while thrifting. Sue me. Meanwhile, immediately outside of the store... the dreamy drama unfolded.
I said: “I went looking for a ‘find’ but you’re clearly the biggest find in the store.” But why do I feel like I've said that at least once before?
My fishhook not withstanding, she casually brushed off my compliment and we made small talk. I could see something in her is whispering “I’m not feeling attractive.” But while I wasn’t buying it, I felt as if she was. And so while she may have been blind to the subtle magnetism and chemistry in the air between us, I was selling myself on the desire. My desire for her. Maybe just the default male/female desire. I mean, isn’t that normal? Or am I just extra and ‘gotta have it?’
Out of nowhere we both blurted introductions: She says: “so who are you” and from my lips: “what’s your name.” It was as if we had bumped into one another in a crowded nightclub/drinks slightly splashing onto each other. Or maybe we pulled out and pointed our swords? "ON-GUARD!"
And then the conversation gets deeper as we discuss her creativity, my creativity, the Chi, NY, LA, mutual friends, etc. Yep! The parts of me you WISH didn't exist, such as being more than just sexual. More than seeing a woman as just a "slab of beef." But while she took a deep dive into her woes and how she felt she had “fallen off,” I was more titillated by her details. First the painted nails, the snatched hair and the toned muscles with the evenly bronzed skin. Her hygiene was even harmony to my eyes. And while she’s speaking about health and career issues my mind was creepin, sneakin peeks at her plumbing, especially those headlights. Yeah, there I was: the antelope waitin to be her roadkill.
Those breasts were screaming at me, makin all kinds of overtures (by their presence alone) during our quiet and somewhat private moment there at the Goodwill entrance. I wondered how many other men had gotten caught in her headlights over the decades? How much roadkill exactly?
For a time I felt suffocated by boobage, with my imagination draggin me into the darkest most unpredictable sex-hole. However, despite nearly 15 minutes of my own obvious carnal transgressions, she wasn’t making excuses to get away and remained within arms reach in this engaging conversation. One moment I’m paying attention; the next I’m spellbound by her beauty, gasping for air (at least in my mind) with my mouth suddenly full of her flesh, with my tongue busy provoking her sighs...
then I’m back up for air, tryna be normal and cordial and genuine... tryna be that male role model that life is begging me to be. But “Here I Go Again,” (Glenn Jones reference), sucked under, drowning in pleasures unknown, my hands grabbing, no... groping, massaging, possessing... and for a second or two her words turned to unrecognizable, underwater gurgles, as I’m struggling to survive this... this... this fight with my want for her body vs my own need to sustain discipline and dignity.
Nevertheless, despite the stirring in my loins, my very own voice of reason kept a strong grip on my neck... speaking into my ear “bruh, you need to go jerk-off... come back to this when you’re balanced and thinkin straight. You’re a fuckin animal right now.”
And that sound you're hearing while reading my Fictions & Non-Fictions... thats the motorized desire for love and affection in my veins. Controlled, but cycling around my heart. Yeah, shit is real up in here.
And as I soon regained control... I shook it off, even with my heart palpitating. At the same time, my reality check chimes from my phone. Then we engaged in the sweetest and thorough hug. And that felt calming. Corrective. And now it was due time to get back to the multiple revenue streams. Gotta keep Nipsey’s vision in mind. Too much at stake. Grindin all my life.