Posts Tagged ‘HumpDAZE’
Hump DAZE ~ Same Shit – [Short Story]
Thursday, March 21, 2013 by
PointOfLu |
No Comments |
Category: Entertainment, Relationships, Sex Love Money
Angela
Could you decipher the difference between aggravation and exhaustion?
I was still tired from the night before, annoyed about the sun beating down so hard at such an early hour, my feet were killing me, and I didn’t know whether to dance around or cross my legs in order to hold the urine inside of me.
I did a bit of both.
The dirty concrete floor that I stood on wasn’t helping my case, but I couldn’t take another moment in those pumps.
He wouldn’t have a welcome mat of some sort outside of his apartment door. What did I expect?
I’ve finally come to the conclusion that select people are on an entirely different time clock than the majority of human beings. There must be some sort of chemical imbalance that alters their personal perception of instance, because there is no way that these people could have any idea of what time it may be, yet just totally ignore it’s significance. (more…)
HumpDAZE *Extinguished*
Thursday, October 20, 2011 by
PointOfLu |
No Comments |
Category: Entertainment, Relationships, Sex Love Money
Toure’
Everything had to be perfect.
I used a fork to check the boiling spaghetti and make sure that it wasn’t being overcooked. She preferred for her pasta to be cooked al dente. I tasted the simmering meat sauce, which I flavored with diced onions, garlic, cloves, and cayenne pepper. The flavoring tickled my tongue.
I started to spread butter, garlic, salt and pepper onto sliced pieces of french bread for the homemade garlic bread.
I tasted the Kool-Aid. Her favorite flavor was Strawberry-Kiwi mixed with Cherry- so sweet that all you can taste is the sugar, served freezing cold. I placed the pitcher inside of the freezer to ensure it’s chill.
The food was almost ready, and her time of arrival was near. Everything was going too smooth to be true.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door that made me almost drop the garlic bread as I placed it into the oven. My heart immediately dropped to my shoe soles. I checked the time.
7:42
She was early. (more…)
Hump DAZE *Lost & Found*
Wednesday, September 21, 2011 by
PointOfLu |
No Comments |
Category: Entertainment, Relationships, Sex Love Money
Derrick
I heard the knocking as I wiped away the steam that rested on the mirror.
I was still soaking wet, and naked.
I despised departing from a warm, steamy bathroom and entering into the cold world until I was completely dry, so I grabbed my towel and quickly removed the beads of water from my body. I snatched my robe from behind the bathroom door, and made my way toward the slow, steady knocking.
I opened the door to reveal the beautiful woman who I sexed the night before, and bid farewell to earlier this morning. I usually never see the ladies that I bring home from the bar ever again- unless it’s at the bar again. Even then, most of them hardly acknowledge me due to embarrassment, or fear of their significant others finding out about our rendezvous whenever they tagged along.
I couldn’t pull my eyes away from her. (more…)
Hump DAZE *Unbeknownst*
Wednesday, September 7, 2011 by
PointOfLu |
No Comments |
Category: Entertainment, Relationships, Sex Love Money
Jonathan
I stood in the middle of an immobile line at Last Resort Pawnshop.
There were many people ahead of me, as well as a line stretching backwards toward the entrance. Laptops, televisions, mischievous young children, phones, car speakers, heavily breathing obese men, old jewelry, putrid stenches from old women and guns contaminated my surroundings.
Some of these things would erupt if placed together in a beaker.
Grunts, complaints and mutters escaped the mouths of those sharing my space; polluting the energy. Though extremely different from one another, we were all here for the same thing.
Currency. (more…)
Hump DAZE *The Beginning of the End*
Wednesday, June 29, 2011 by
PointOfLu |
No Comments |
Category: Entertainment
Ryan
Shopping in Atlantic Station can sometimes be more of a hassle than a great experience- especially during the spring. Whose bright idea was it to park our cars underneath the stores, thus causing me to always misplace it?
I recalled parking it around a Publix- but now that I’ve just left H&M, where the hell do I go from here?
I didn’t have the patience to be running around these streets just to look for the store that you parked underneath!
Or, maybe it was just too early to deal with the bullshit.
I walked down the flight of stairs that were in front of Kilwin’s, suddenly realizing that there were numbers at the top of the staircases. Why didn’t I notice them before?
I should’ve just shopped at Perimeter. More choices, air conditioning and eye candy. Atlantic Station seemed to be slowly formulating into an Underground Atlanta…part 2.
It was the tail end of a long, cool afternoon of shopping and both of my hands grasped bags from H&M, Banana Republic, Jos. A. Bank and Gap. I’m definitely not complaining about these purchases, but you try and maintain your composure as you strut around carrying bags full of impulse purchases around and around Atlantic Station’s blocks of stores. To make matters worse, I was starving and my bladder felt as if it was about to burst open.
After several minutes of walking around the underground parking lot, I finally spotted my car. Though small, I knew it should never be this hard to spot a BMW M6. Next time I’d be sure to keep a mental note of the number at the top of the stairwell.
I placed the shopping bags into the trunk of my car, and ran back up the stairs- almost slipping once I reached the top. Luckily, nobody was around to witness my loss of grace! As I emerged from the staircase, I looked for it’s number.
12.
That was easy to remember. I’d hosted monthly networking socials at the nearby Twelve Hotel.
My bladder continued to scream at me as I looked around for a restaurant that could relieve me of my distress, as well as cease my unwavering desire for sushi.
“Mmmmmmm…” A hungry moan escaped from my lips as I envisioned a plate of Boston Rolls and Kani.
Suddenly, an idea popped into my head that illuminated the solution to my dilemma like a light bulb.
The Strip.
I made my way down the street toward Regal Cinema, remembering that The Strip stood right in front of it. The trek wasn’t as hard without bags of clothes and shoes weighing me down.
I entered the restaurant and asked the hostess if I could relieve myself before I was seated. She pointed me toward the direction of the restrooms, and I thanked her as I quickly jogged across the dining area and made my way upstairs to the bar and lounge area where the restrooms were located. The closer I got, the more desperate the need to empty my bladder seemed to become!
Don’t you hate when that happens?
I burst through the door, headed to the first urinal that was available, unleashed myself and finally began to pour.
The satisfying feeling forced my eyes closed and sent chills through my spine.
Suddenly, my bliss was abruptly interrupted.
“Should I be flattered about the fact that you’re so close to me?”
A completely random comment from a stranger seized me from my moment.
I looked to my right side and saw another man standing in front of the urinal beside me. I couldn’t believe that I didn’t notice him upon my rush to relieve. However, when do you ever take a good look at anybody in the bathroom? Don’t people usually just go in there to take care of their business, and then move forward with their lives?
I gave him a once over.
He did the same.
His attire captured my attention. I appreciated people who possessed a sense of style-whether gentleman, or lady. I believe that fashion is a form of art that can work wonders and change lives if properly utilized!
Perception and presentation is reality.
He was wearing a white button up, dark blue denim jeans and an ocean blue and gray fedora that matched up to his gray and blue Chucks. These were the same Converse shoes that I saw in Abbadabba’s last weekend!
I was pretty upset that they didn’t have my size.
He was tall with an athletic build, and his smooth, caramel complexion conflicted with what seemed to be a wild, nappy haircut underneath his fedora. It seemed to work for him, though.
My initial judgment only took a matter of seconds.
“Pardon me?” I took my eyes off of him, and returned my gaze to my business in the black urinal in front of me.
“Don’t get offended.” The guy flushed the toilet, and headed toward the sinks. “I just find it cool that you stood next to me to use the bathroom. Nobody does that these days. I’ve noticed that there could be two open urinals around me, but most would rather wait for me to finish. I guess peeing next to a fellow man makes you queer, eh?”
“Oh, wow.” I laughed at his observation and flushed the toilet. “I never noticed that. To be honest, I didn’t even notice you were there. I just needed to go really bad and I hopped on the first urinal that I saw.”
“Whoa.” The man looked at me in the mirror as he began washing his hands. “I wonder what would’ve happened if the urinal I was using was the first one you saw.”
I laughed nervously and washed my hands as he started to dry his.
“Hey, do you know of anything going on in this area tonight? I just got into town for my sister’s birthday, and I’d like to make the best of my stay.” He tossed his wet paper towels into the trash.
“Oh, really?” I took a look in the mirror and made sure that I was presentable. “Well, you’ve stumbled upon the perfect person! I organize various upscale events around the Atlanta area. We have an event in the next couple of days. What kind of scene are you looking for?”
“To be honest, I’m not sure! What does the city have to offer?”
“It really depends on what you want.” I dried my hands, and tossed the paper towels toward the trashcan. They missed the hole by inches. Embarrassed, I grabbed the papers from the ground and dropped them in. “What do you like?”
“Trouble.” The mysterious man smiled.
I returned the gesture.
Toure
The idea of dreaming is so complex. You have minimal control in a dimension that wouldn’t even exist if it weren’t for your attendance or cooperation. What are dreams supposed to be- besides vivid imagery of your deepest conscious and subconscious thoughts that seem to occur only as you enter a state of unconsciousness?
I hadn’t been doing much dreaming, but random thoughts continued to bounce around the walls of my psyche at a rapid pace.
I was still sitting on the couch, my phone within arms reach. I’d put it on the silent setting in order to simmer the anticipation that seemed to boil over onto my every thought as I waited to receive a response from Angela.
It seemed to be a genius idea at the time, but it definitely didn’t help. I was still checking my phone every other moment- only to be disappointed.
Expectations were even more complex than dreams.
Assumptions even more than the former.
I slid off of the couch and headed to the bathroom to wash my face. Thoughts of her followed closely behind.
The effect that she had over me was stiffening. It seemed as if all of my actions were fueled by my emotions, and my logical thoughts were confined by my love for her. What kind of person stays in bed until they receive a response from their significant other?
A sorry, hopeless romantic like myself.
It was as if she were the filter to my every action, the editor of my every move.
I dried my face and made my way back to the living room where my phone remained. I picked it up, preparing myself for more disappointment.
Of course there was nothing.
I don’t believe that any amount of preparation could soften the blow of her neglect. It was time to give her a call since texting didn’t seem to work. I pulled up her name on my contacts list and took a deep breath as I pressed “CALL”.
Riiiiinnng.
I swallowed.
Riiiiinnng.
A dark cloud of doubt slowly made it’s way over toward me.
Riiiiinnng.
Hopefully she’d pick up before its arrival.
Riiiiinnng.
I accepted the fact that she probably wasn’t going to.
“Hello?” Angela picked up her phone on the 5th ring.
“Hey, Angel.” I was relieved to finally get some type of response from her. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing. I’m about to walk into Strip.”
“Oh, that’s good. I didn’t know that you had to work today.”
“I wish I didn’t have to.” Aggravation saturated her voice.
“Me too.” I tried to lighten up the conversation. “Maybe we could’ve kicked it.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
An awkward silence forced it’s way between us.
“Is there a reason that you’re being so short with me?”
“No, not really. I’m just tired and annoyed.”
“Annoyed with me?”
“Not necessarily.”
“What’s bothering you? Is there anything that I can do to help?”
“I’m not sure, to be honest. I’ll be fine.”
“I just hope it has nothing to do with me.” I wasn’t sure if it was the best time to ask about my text messages, but I needed to know something before it drove me crazy. “Have you been getting my texts?”
“Which ones?” She asked.
I couldn’t grasp the reason that she’d ask about which messages I was referring to if she hadn’t received any of them. And if she did get them, why wouldn’t she just respond to them?
“The one about you having a good night, and then the other one about having time for me.”
“Oh yeah, I got those. I just haven’t had time to respond to them yet. My phone was dead.”
If her phone was dead, how was she speaking to me now? Why could she pick up phone calls, but not respond to my text messages? Something just wasn’t adding up.
“Were you not able to charge it this morning, Angela? Where were you?”
“Yes, Toure. That’s the exact reason why we’re on the phone now.”
I hated it when she spoke to me as if I were mentally inferior.
“I know we wouldn’t be on the phone unless it was charged, Angela. I’m not an idiot.” I was beginning to believe that she just didn’t want to speak to me. No matter how you twist it, people ultimately make time for who and what they want to make time for. She obviously had no time for me lately. “But how about before then? Couldn’t you respond to me on your way to work, or as you were charging your phone? What were you doing this morning?”
“I was at Derrick’s apartment chilling before I had to come to work. That’s where I charged my phone. Any more questions?”
I paused before I said anything, because I didn’t want to come off as an asshole. I didn’t want to upset her and start an argument because we’d never resolve anything then. On the contrary, we weren’t doing a good job at solving anything right now, either.
I hated Derrick. Well, maybe not the actual person. I never met him. I hated what he did to my relationship with Angela. She seemed to always find time for him, but never found time to make me a priority. I didn’t know what it was about him that caught her attention- besides the fact that he worked at the same restaurant as her.
I took a deep breath before I proceeded.
“I’m not trying to bother or annoy you, Angela. I just don’t understand why you couldn’t just respond to my text message when you received it. It’s common courtesy. I’m here whenever you need me, and I’m just asking you for the same care and respect.“
“Okay, Toure. We can talk about this later. I really need to go clock in before I’m late.”
This conversation was the outcome of an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object. We were going nowhere fast.
“I don’t understand it, Angela! All I’m asking is for you to take my feelings into consideration!” I erupted. “You’re really acting like you’d rather go on without me! I mean, what difference would it make? We hardly talk anyway!”
“I’d just rather live without your constant bitching!” She snapped back.
“Bitching?” Her words tore through my ego. “So you’re calling me a bitch, now?”
“Take it as you please, Toure.”
“Fuck you!” I frantically scrambled for a rebuttal that would do the same damage.
I came up with nothing.
Hurting somebody that you loved wasn’t a simple task.
The next sound I heard was that of her dial tone.
Angela
I turned off my phone, placed it into my purse and exited the break room. I didn’t need any extra stress while I was on the job, and Toure’ was bringing more than enough of it. I was already in an irritable mood because of the expected Aunt Flow, and working while I was still tired wasn’t making anything easier.
I couldn’t understand how a man could be so sensitive and clingy. He needed to find a life- outside of me.
“Where am I this afternoon?” I asked my shift manager as I tied an apron around my waist.
“You won’t be anywhere until you erase that frown from your face!” She responded with a smirk. “Relax, girl. It’s a beautiful day!”
She was right.
Though cool outside, you could witness the frigid winter finally making its exit. The sun hung over the city longer than usual, illuminating the new bloom of this season’s seeds. Spring was near.
I wouldn’t consider Toure’ an actual problem from my past, but he was definitely becoming a predicament of my present. It seemed as if the romance we once shared was progressively dissipating from our relationship, and becoming replenished with animosity. Toure and I spoke every day, but it was as if we hardly communicated. We hardly held whole conversations these days- and whenever we did speak, an argument violently pushed the conversation to the side. There was constantly a reason to disagree when it came to our relationship, and I was growing weary.
Were relationships supposed to be this difficult?
Almost a year ago, Toure and I met in an English class. He became my tutor- if you consider him writing almost all of my essays as being a tutor. He was an aspiring journalist who was pursuing a degree in Communications. We began to hang out more and more, and over time I inevitably developed feelings for him. I fell in love with his mind. He had an amazing way with words, and was always so sweet and thoughtful toward me.
On the contrary, I always felt as if there were something missing. I still have no idea what this something may be, but I honestly didn’t believe that I’d be around much longer to figure it out.
There had to be something else.
Something better.
Better for me.
The manager pointed me toward my section where an attractive man sat alone playing with his iPhone.
He had to be waiting on somebody.
I painted on an imaginary smile as I approached the booth. On the table sat a single menu.
He’d be dining alone.
“Good afternoon!” I exclaimed. “My name is Angela, and I’ll be taking care of you today. Could I start you off with a beverage?”
“Good afternoon, Angela.” The man smiled at me and his beautiful straight, white teeth caught me off guard. “My name is Ryan, and I’d love a glass of water as I look over your sushi menu.”
I hope you enjoyed the 3rd chapter of my weekly short story series, Hump DAZE! If you happened to miss the 2nd installment- or just need to refresh your memory, CLICK HERE! Stay tuned for the 4th chapter next Wednesday!
Follow me on Twitter @PointOfLu
Hump DAZE *Same Old Shit*
Wednesday, June 22, 2011 by
PointOfLu |
No Comments |
Category: Entertainment, Uncategorized
Angela
Could one decipher the difference between their aggravation and exhaustion?
I was still tired from the night before, annoyed about how cold it was at such an early hour, my feet were killing me and I didn’t know whether to dance around or cross my legs in order to hold the urine inside of me.
I did a little bit of both.
The dirty floor that I stood on wasn’t helping the situation, but I couldn’t take another moment in those heels.
He wouldn’t have a mat of some sort outside of his apartment door. What did I expect?
I’ve finally come to the conclusion that select people are on an entirely different time clock than the majority of human beings. There must be some sort of chemical imbalance that alters their personal perception of instance, because there is no way on earth that these people could have any idea of what time it may be and just totally ignore it’s significance.
I don’t believe that it’s entirely their fault. It must be physically and mentally impossible for a person to arrive to everything in their life behind schedule- on purpose. I guess these individuals utilize their instincts to determine the perfect time to arrive late to any, and everything.
It should be illegal to defy the laws of time, and all offenders should be prosecuted to the full extent. I wouldn’t have to go too far to track down my case.
I’d been knocking on Derrick’s door for about ten minutes now, and it was way too cold to stand outside for any longer- especially while still wearing the same outfit from last night, holding my purse and heels. I looked like the poster child of a night gone terribly wrong.
It was a night gone terribly wrong. A total waste of an outfit.
I reached into the purse for my phone, and then remembered that it was dead.
Greatness.
Usually, I would have called him as I was coming off the exit (which is seven minutes away), just to get him to stop whatever he’s doing and unlock the door for my entry. If I didn’t, I knew that I’d face the consequences of standing outside until he finally remembered that he was expecting company, or until he heard somebody kicking the door down- as I was seconds away from doing.
Just as I was about to cock back my right leg, the door opened and there stood Derrick- shirtless with a doobie hanging from his mouth.
Typical.
“Took you long enough!” I pushed my way past him and rushed to the bathroom.
“Well good morning to you too, sunshine!” I heard him exclaim from behind me.
I chuckled as I dropped my belongings to the ground of his bedroom, catching a glimpse of a condom wrapper on his bedside table and another on the floor as I entered the bathroom. I clicked on the light, turned on the faucet and then took a seat on the throne.
“Looks like somebody enjoyed their night!” I shook my head as I relieved myself. Peeing never felt better.
“What the hell are you doing here this early?” He ignored my exclamation. “And I don’t know why you stay turning on the water as if I can’t still hear your ass piss!”
“I’m actually just leaving The W.” As I washed my hands, I started to recall the previous night’s events. “And mind your damn business! It makes me feel better.”
Drunken conversation. Emotional maneuvering. Uncomfortable instances. No sleep.
That about sums it up.
“The W? What was going on there?” Derrick prodded.
I opened the bathroom door and he stood in the doorway as he started lighting the blunt. He still had no shirt on, and probably wouldn’t put one on until it was time to venture out into the world.
“Put some clothes on, Derrick.” I pushed him to the side as I emerged from the bathroom. I sat on the edge of his bed and then instantly hopped back up, remembering that they’d been freshly inaugurated.
“What’s the matter? Getting turned on?” He gyrated in front of his mirror and admired himself while doing smoke tricks. I watched him as smoke slowly escaped from his lips and made its way to his nostrils. “Don’t you dare avoid my question! What happened last night that has you stumbling into my apartment at 8 in the morning?”
“Where the hell do I start?” I grabbed my phone and charger, plugged it to the wall and turned it on. “I wanted to get a drink after work, but couldn’t find any stable plans so I decided to go hang out with our co-worker Jessica, her boyfriend and his friend Jonathan. I should have known not to place myself in that position, because I instantly became the third wheel- as well as the uninterested but incessantly attempted.”
I continued my story about how we all went out for dinner and drinks at Sage. The ambiance was classy, the food was delicious, and the idea was a great gesture until “going Dutch” became the topic of choice as we took our last bites of dessert. Frankly, I don’t think anything is wrong with separate checks- as long as that particular plan is specified as the original plans are being created!
I know I’m not the only person who orders differently when somebody different is paying.
In addition to that lack of communication, Jonathan also continued to make it very clear that his plan was to have sex last night. Every other phrase from his mouth had something to do with a position, or sexual preference. I wasn’t familiar with the ladies that he was used to dealing with, but if he didn’t even have the decency to cover my meal, he’d be lucky to get as little as a glance from me after dinner.
Once we left Sage, Jonathan’s next genius plan was to find a place where we could get more drinks and watch the game. He spoke of a bar that served cheap drinks and wouldn’t be too crowded, but failed to mention that he had no idea where this place was- nor could he recollect the correct name.
After driving around and around Atlanta for about an hour, I confessed that I was tired of watching Jessica and her man lose themselves in each other and hearing Jonathan regurgitate numerous reasons that I should consider dating him. I told them that I didn’t care where we were in ten minutes- as long as it was no longer a Chevy Cavalier coupe with no space to breath in the backseats.
Jessica’s boyfriend’s Chevy Cavalier, mind you.
Jonathan didn’t have a car.
I should have kept my thoughts to myself, because this became an open space for Jonathan to slide in his suggestions of retiring to a hotel room that was already purchased for the night.
Jessica was sure to inform me that she was the person who purchased a room at The W for herself and the boyfriend, but Jonathan invited himself along earlier that night.
I couldn’t stand a mooch, or a broke dude!
I was over it all, but I didn’t want to force them to bring me all the way back to my car- which we left at Slice, and ruin any plans. As long as I could get into a comfortable bed minus the desperate man who was ignorant to the ways of female communication, I’d be content.
I definitely should have forced them to bring me all the way back to my car.
We stopped at the liquor store and got a bottle of cheap rum and some cranberry juice to take back to the room.
My vagina locked the top lock.
When we finally we got up to the room, all Jonathan did was offer me drink after drink and challenge me to alcohol consumption contests – all of which I denied participation. Jessica and her boyfriend just laid on the bed flirting and teasing each other.
I’d never felt more helpless.
“The room wasn’t even a suite like what I expected! It was on the second floor, had one bed and it was almost the same size as Jessica’s man’s car!” I continued my sad story. “I was ready to leave before we even arrived, and I would have definitely escaped if my car wasn’t left at Slice- along with my phone charger!”
“Damn. Sounds like a night to remember! You should have known this was going to happen if you went anywhere with Jessica, though.” He said, passing me the smoking transplant patient before he lay on the bed. “Do you work today?”
“Yeah, that’s why I came over to bother you. I open. I’ll be leaving from here…if you don’t mind.” I took a pull, and let the smoke rest in my lungs. “Since I didn’t work last night, they put me on for today at brunch. Assholes. Can I borrow some shorts?”
“Damn. You could have worked with me last night, made some money and avoided all of that bullshit! You know where the shorts are.”
“I know.” I started to pass him the roach as I headed to his dresser. He declined.
“Go ahead, love. You need it more than I do.”
Derrick has been my best friend for almost two years. I met him when I started working as a server at The Strip, and we hit it off fairly soon after. We seemed to have almost everything in common- including the lack of sexual interest in each other. Due to the fact that we were always together, people constantly inquired about our relationship status and assumed that we were more than what we really are. Though irritating, that didn’t annoy me as much as the fact that people these days really had no belief in strictly platonic relationships. I truly believed that everybody wasn’t out to bump uglies with everybody, and that you could be just friends with whomever you want. Though there were some things about him that got on my nerves, he was always (and will always) remain that one friend that I could count on whenever I needed a helping hand, shoulder to cry on or shift covered.
“What was your man doing last night?” Derrick asked.
Just as I was about to answer his question, my phone vibrated. I made my way over to it and read the text message that I received.
Hey, gorg. I don’t know when u’ll get this, cuz I know u’re out enjoying urself. I’m bored out of my mind! I’m going 2 bed. I love u.
I smiled and started to write a response, but the indication of a new message interrupted my plan. The second text message said,
I don’t understand y I can’t ever get in contact with u when I want 2. I’m tired of having all this time 4 somebody who refuses to give me any of theirs. If you continue to take your time when it comes to me, you’ll eventually run out of mine.
An exasperated sigh escaped my lips as I turned my phone off and placed it back on the charger.
Jheri
“We’ll be arriving in Atlanta, Georgia in approximately thirty minutes.” The bus driver’s scratchy voice on the intercom interrupted my thoughts.
Finally.
I glanced at my phone.
9:27AM.
I’d been on this Greyhound bus for two days already, and the adventure was getting old. I’d listened to almost every song in my iPod- twice, caught up on all of my work and slept most of the ride away. I was ready to step out of the bus and into my new life.
Thank God we would be arriving early.
It seemed as if we’d gone all over the United States- passing through Phoenix, Dallas, Jackson, and finally Georgia. I spent most of my time catching up on updates for my website, listening to music or sleeping.
The passing scenery was beautiful and I enjoyed the time alone, but I was ready to reach my destination and finally meet up with my sister. The anxiety was unbearable.
It had been about a year too long since I’d last seen Ashley. After the accident, she packed up her life and moved to Atlanta to pursue a career in photography. According to her, it was one of the best decisions of her life.
I couldn’t wait to find out what was in store for me in this new city.
I pulled out my phone and sent Ashley a text.
I’m about thirty minutes away. Can’t wait to see you, girl!
Riding the bus wasn’t usually my first choice, but the contents of my baggage affected that decision.
Decisions. What an interesting concept.
A single choice one made could steer their whole life toward a totally different direction, keep it at the same place- or a mixture of both. Things could get worse, or things could get better all because of one single decision, or an array of different choices.
Life seemed to be a test that nobody was prepared for; the correct answers becoming revealed only after actually making the choices and dealing with the consequences.
How did one ever know when they picked the correct answer? And would they ever have a chance to go back and change it?
For example- my decision to leave my job, friends, family and former plans behind in California and randomly appear in Atlanta to celebrate my sister’s birthday…only to never return.
Was this the correct answer?
How about my sister’s decision to accept me with open arms- even after the traumatic experience and neither of us have yet to get over.
Or, how about the decision of the woman sitting across from me? Her decision to avoid investing in a contraption that would bring her beastly snores to a halt when sleeping in public.
I popped my earphones back in with hopes that it would create some kind of barrier and hinder her roars from reaching my ears. The sounds ceased.
Great decision.
My decision to completely exit the closet and embrace the fact that I was into men…
I’m still dealing with that decision to this day. Constantly questioning myself and hoping that I made the right move- and continue to. Praying that I didn’t become a saboteur to my own vision by embracing my true being.
Most of the time, going back and choosing a different route was impossible. The lack of opportunity to change a decision was where the importance of good decision making seemed to derive.
I was lucky to be one of the few people who ever got a chance at starting over. The accident became a gift and a curse of some sort. I’d be in a brand new city with a brand new environment and the brand new option to make brand new choices.
Hopefully amongst this brand new opportunity, my current situation would change.
I turned on my iPod. Brand New Guys by A$AP Rocky started blaring in my ears.
I felt my phone vibrate. Ashley responded.
Okie dokie! Can’t wait, bro! Put on a light jacket, it’s cold af!!
Damn. I hated cold weather!
The weather was one thing that I’d miss about California.
The weather and the weed.
I hope you enjoyed the 2nd chapter of my weekly short story series, Hump DAZE! If you happened to miss the 1st installment- or just need to refresh your memory, CLICK HERE! Stay tuned for the 3rd chapter next Wednesday!
Follow me on Twitter @PointOfLu
Hump DAZE *Sunday Morning Sin*
Wednesday, June 15, 2011 by
PointOfLu |
No Comments |
Category: Entertainment
Derrick
I laid in bed facing the ceiling, scantly clad in dark blue Ralph Lauren boxer briefs.
Sunlight crept in through my bedroom window, lighting it up inch by inch without permission. Another day was about to begin, and I wasn’t even sure if I’d completed the previous one.
I hadn’t gotten much sleep last night.
When did I ever, though?
Amid enjoying my break between degrees and bar tending late nights at The Strip, I didn’t have much time for shut eye. I could sleep when I was dead. (more…)
Hump DAZE ~ Same Shit – [Short Story]
Thursday, March 21, 2013 by PointOfLu | No Comments | Category: Entertainment, Relationships, Sex Love Money
Angela
Could you decipher the difference between aggravation and exhaustion?
I was still tired from the night before, annoyed about the sun beating down so hard at such an early hour, my feet were killing me, and I didn’t know whether to dance around or cross my legs in order to hold the urine inside of me.
I did a bit of both.
The dirty concrete floor that I stood on wasn’t helping my case, but I couldn’t take another moment in those pumps.
He wouldn’t have a welcome mat of some sort outside of his apartment door. What did I expect?
I’ve finally come to the conclusion that select people are on an entirely different time clock than the majority of human beings. There must be some sort of chemical imbalance that alters their personal perception of instance, because there is no way that these people could have any idea of what time it may be, yet just totally ignore it’s significance. (more…)
HumpDAZE *Extinguished*
Thursday, October 20, 2011 by PointOfLu | No Comments | Category: Entertainment, Relationships, Sex Love Money
Toure’
Everything had to be perfect.
I used a fork to check the boiling spaghetti and make sure that it wasn’t being overcooked. She preferred for her pasta to be cooked al dente. I tasted the simmering meat sauce, which I flavored with diced onions, garlic, cloves, and cayenne pepper. The flavoring tickled my tongue.
I started to spread butter, garlic, salt and pepper onto sliced pieces of french bread for the homemade garlic bread.
I tasted the Kool-Aid. Her favorite flavor was Strawberry-Kiwi mixed with Cherry- so sweet that all you can taste is the sugar, served freezing cold. I placed the pitcher inside of the freezer to ensure it’s chill.
The food was almost ready, and her time of arrival was near. Everything was going too smooth to be true.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door that made me almost drop the garlic bread as I placed it into the oven. My heart immediately dropped to my shoe soles. I checked the time.
7:42
She was early. (more…)
Hump DAZE *Lost & Found*
Wednesday, September 21, 2011 by PointOfLu | No Comments | Category: Entertainment, Relationships, Sex Love Money
Derrick
I heard the knocking as I wiped away the steam that rested on the mirror.
I was still soaking wet, and naked.
I despised departing from a warm, steamy bathroom and entering into the cold world until I was completely dry, so I grabbed my towel and quickly removed the beads of water from my body. I snatched my robe from behind the bathroom door, and made my way toward the slow, steady knocking.
I opened the door to reveal the beautiful woman who I sexed the night before, and bid farewell to earlier this morning. I usually never see the ladies that I bring home from the bar ever again- unless it’s at the bar again. Even then, most of them hardly acknowledge me due to embarrassment, or fear of their significant others finding out about our rendezvous whenever they tagged along.
I couldn’t pull my eyes away from her. (more…)
Hump DAZE *Unbeknownst*
Wednesday, September 7, 2011 by PointOfLu | No Comments | Category: Entertainment, Relationships, Sex Love Money
Jonathan
I stood in the middle of an immobile line at Last Resort Pawnshop.
There were many people ahead of me, as well as a line stretching backwards toward the entrance. Laptops, televisions, mischievous young children, phones, car speakers, heavily breathing obese men, old jewelry, putrid stenches from old women and guns contaminated my surroundings.
Some of these things would erupt if placed together in a beaker.
Grunts, complaints and mutters escaped the mouths of those sharing my space; polluting the energy. Though extremely different from one another, we were all here for the same thing.
Currency. (more…)
Hump DAZE *The Beginning of the End*
Wednesday, June 29, 2011 by PointOfLu | No Comments | Category: Entertainment
Ryan
Shopping in Atlantic Station can sometimes be more of a hassle than a great experience- especially during the spring. Whose bright idea was it to park our cars underneath the stores, thus causing me to always misplace it?
I recalled parking it around a Publix- but now that I’ve just left H&M, where the hell do I go from here?
I didn’t have the patience to be running around these streets just to look for the store that you parked underneath!
Or, maybe it was just too early to deal with the bullshit.
I walked down the flight of stairs that were in front of Kilwin’s, suddenly realizing that there were numbers at the top of the staircases. Why didn’t I notice them before?
I should’ve just shopped at Perimeter. More choices, air conditioning and eye candy. Atlantic Station seemed to be slowly formulating into an Underground Atlanta…part 2.
It was the tail end of a long, cool afternoon of shopping and both of my hands grasped bags from H&M, Banana Republic, Jos. A. Bank and Gap. I’m definitely not complaining about these purchases, but you try and maintain your composure as you strut around carrying bags full of impulse purchases around and around Atlantic Station’s blocks of stores. To make matters worse, I was starving and my bladder felt as if it was about to burst open.
After several minutes of walking around the underground parking lot, I finally spotted my car. Though small, I knew it should never be this hard to spot a BMW M6. Next time I’d be sure to keep a mental note of the number at the top of the stairwell.
I placed the shopping bags into the trunk of my car, and ran back up the stairs- almost slipping once I reached the top. Luckily, nobody was around to witness my loss of grace! As I emerged from the staircase, I looked for it’s number.
12.
That was easy to remember. I’d hosted monthly networking socials at the nearby Twelve Hotel.
My bladder continued to scream at me as I looked around for a restaurant that could relieve me of my distress, as well as cease my unwavering desire for sushi.
“Mmmmmmm…” A hungry moan escaped from my lips as I envisioned a plate of Boston Rolls and Kani.
Suddenly, an idea popped into my head that illuminated the solution to my dilemma like a light bulb.
The Strip.
I made my way down the street toward Regal Cinema, remembering that The Strip stood right in front of it. The trek wasn’t as hard without bags of clothes and shoes weighing me down.
I entered the restaurant and asked the hostess if I could relieve myself before I was seated. She pointed me toward the direction of the restrooms, and I thanked her as I quickly jogged across the dining area and made my way upstairs to the bar and lounge area where the restrooms were located. The closer I got, the more desperate the need to empty my bladder seemed to become!
Don’t you hate when that happens?
I burst through the door, headed to the first urinal that was available, unleashed myself and finally began to pour.
The satisfying feeling forced my eyes closed and sent chills through my spine.
Suddenly, my bliss was abruptly interrupted.
“Should I be flattered about the fact that you’re so close to me?”
A completely random comment from a stranger seized me from my moment.
I looked to my right side and saw another man standing in front of the urinal beside me. I couldn’t believe that I didn’t notice him upon my rush to relieve. However, when do you ever take a good look at anybody in the bathroom? Don’t people usually just go in there to take care of their business, and then move forward with their lives?
I gave him a once over.
He did the same.
His attire captured my attention. I appreciated people who possessed a sense of style-whether gentleman, or lady. I believe that fashion is a form of art that can work wonders and change lives if properly utilized!
Perception and presentation is reality.
He was wearing a white button up, dark blue denim jeans and an ocean blue and gray fedora that matched up to his gray and blue Chucks. These were the same Converse shoes that I saw in Abbadabba’s last weekend!
I was pretty upset that they didn’t have my size.
He was tall with an athletic build, and his smooth, caramel complexion conflicted with what seemed to be a wild, nappy haircut underneath his fedora. It seemed to work for him, though.
My initial judgment only took a matter of seconds.
“Pardon me?” I took my eyes off of him, and returned my gaze to my business in the black urinal in front of me.
“Don’t get offended.” The guy flushed the toilet, and headed toward the sinks. “I just find it cool that you stood next to me to use the bathroom. Nobody does that these days. I’ve noticed that there could be two open urinals around me, but most would rather wait for me to finish. I guess peeing next to a fellow man makes you queer, eh?”
“Oh, wow.” I laughed at his observation and flushed the toilet. “I never noticed that. To be honest, I didn’t even notice you were there. I just needed to go really bad and I hopped on the first urinal that I saw.”
“Whoa.” The man looked at me in the mirror as he began washing his hands. “I wonder what would’ve happened if the urinal I was using was the first one you saw.”
I laughed nervously and washed my hands as he started to dry his.
“Hey, do you know of anything going on in this area tonight? I just got into town for my sister’s birthday, and I’d like to make the best of my stay.” He tossed his wet paper towels into the trash.
“Oh, really?” I took a look in the mirror and made sure that I was presentable. “Well, you’ve stumbled upon the perfect person! I organize various upscale events around the Atlanta area. We have an event in the next couple of days. What kind of scene are you looking for?”
“To be honest, I’m not sure! What does the city have to offer?”
“It really depends on what you want.” I dried my hands, and tossed the paper towels toward the trashcan. They missed the hole by inches. Embarrassed, I grabbed the papers from the ground and dropped them in. “What do you like?”
“Trouble.” The mysterious man smiled.
I returned the gesture.
Toure
The idea of dreaming is so complex. You have minimal control in a dimension that wouldn’t even exist if it weren’t for your attendance or cooperation. What are dreams supposed to be- besides vivid imagery of your deepest conscious and subconscious thoughts that seem to occur only as you enter a state of unconsciousness?
I hadn’t been doing much dreaming, but random thoughts continued to bounce around the walls of my psyche at a rapid pace.
I was still sitting on the couch, my phone within arms reach. I’d put it on the silent setting in order to simmer the anticipation that seemed to boil over onto my every thought as I waited to receive a response from Angela.
It seemed to be a genius idea at the time, but it definitely didn’t help. I was still checking my phone every other moment- only to be disappointed.
Expectations were even more complex than dreams.
Assumptions even more than the former.
I slid off of the couch and headed to the bathroom to wash my face. Thoughts of her followed closely behind.
The effect that she had over me was stiffening. It seemed as if all of my actions were fueled by my emotions, and my logical thoughts were confined by my love for her. What kind of person stays in bed until they receive a response from their significant other?
A sorry, hopeless romantic like myself.
It was as if she were the filter to my every action, the editor of my every move.
I dried my face and made my way back to the living room where my phone remained. I picked it up, preparing myself for more disappointment.
Of course there was nothing.
I don’t believe that any amount of preparation could soften the blow of her neglect. It was time to give her a call since texting didn’t seem to work. I pulled up her name on my contacts list and took a deep breath as I pressed “CALL”.
Riiiiinnng.
I swallowed.
Riiiiinnng.
A dark cloud of doubt slowly made it’s way over toward me.
Riiiiinnng.
Hopefully she’d pick up before its arrival.
Riiiiinnng.
I accepted the fact that she probably wasn’t going to.
“Hello?” Angela picked up her phone on the 5th ring.
“Hey, Angel.” I was relieved to finally get some type of response from her. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing. I’m about to walk into Strip.”
“Oh, that’s good. I didn’t know that you had to work today.”
“I wish I didn’t have to.” Aggravation saturated her voice.
“Me too.” I tried to lighten up the conversation. “Maybe we could’ve kicked it.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
An awkward silence forced it’s way between us.
“Is there a reason that you’re being so short with me?”
“No, not really. I’m just tired and annoyed.”
“Annoyed with me?”
“Not necessarily.”
“What’s bothering you? Is there anything that I can do to help?”
“I’m not sure, to be honest. I’ll be fine.”
“I just hope it has nothing to do with me.” I wasn’t sure if it was the best time to ask about my text messages, but I needed to know something before it drove me crazy. “Have you been getting my texts?”
“Which ones?” She asked.
I couldn’t grasp the reason that she’d ask about which messages I was referring to if she hadn’t received any of them. And if she did get them, why wouldn’t she just respond to them?
“The one about you having a good night, and then the other one about having time for me.”
“Oh yeah, I got those. I just haven’t had time to respond to them yet. My phone was dead.”
If her phone was dead, how was she speaking to me now? Why could she pick up phone calls, but not respond to my text messages? Something just wasn’t adding up.
“Were you not able to charge it this morning, Angela? Where were you?”
“Yes, Toure. That’s the exact reason why we’re on the phone now.”
I hated it when she spoke to me as if I were mentally inferior.
“I know we wouldn’t be on the phone unless it was charged, Angela. I’m not an idiot.” I was beginning to believe that she just didn’t want to speak to me. No matter how you twist it, people ultimately make time for who and what they want to make time for. She obviously had no time for me lately. “But how about before then? Couldn’t you respond to me on your way to work, or as you were charging your phone? What were you doing this morning?”
“I was at Derrick’s apartment chilling before I had to come to work. That’s where I charged my phone. Any more questions?”
I paused before I said anything, because I didn’t want to come off as an asshole. I didn’t want to upset her and start an argument because we’d never resolve anything then. On the contrary, we weren’t doing a good job at solving anything right now, either.
I hated Derrick. Well, maybe not the actual person. I never met him. I hated what he did to my relationship with Angela. She seemed to always find time for him, but never found time to make me a priority. I didn’t know what it was about him that caught her attention- besides the fact that he worked at the same restaurant as her.
I took a deep breath before I proceeded.
“I’m not trying to bother or annoy you, Angela. I just don’t understand why you couldn’t just respond to my text message when you received it. It’s common courtesy. I’m here whenever you need me, and I’m just asking you for the same care and respect.“
“Okay, Toure. We can talk about this later. I really need to go clock in before I’m late.”
This conversation was the outcome of an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object. We were going nowhere fast.
“I don’t understand it, Angela! All I’m asking is for you to take my feelings into consideration!” I erupted. “You’re really acting like you’d rather go on without me! I mean, what difference would it make? We hardly talk anyway!”
“I’d just rather live without your constant bitching!” She snapped back.
“Bitching?” Her words tore through my ego. “So you’re calling me a bitch, now?”
“Take it as you please, Toure.”
“Fuck you!” I frantically scrambled for a rebuttal that would do the same damage.
I came up with nothing.
Hurting somebody that you loved wasn’t a simple task.
The next sound I heard was that of her dial tone.
Angela
I turned off my phone, placed it into my purse and exited the break room. I didn’t need any extra stress while I was on the job, and Toure’ was bringing more than enough of it. I was already in an irritable mood because of the expected Aunt Flow, and working while I was still tired wasn’t making anything easier.
I couldn’t understand how a man could be so sensitive and clingy. He needed to find a life- outside of me.
“Where am I this afternoon?” I asked my shift manager as I tied an apron around my waist.
“You won’t be anywhere until you erase that frown from your face!” She responded with a smirk. “Relax, girl. It’s a beautiful day!”
She was right.
Though cool outside, you could witness the frigid winter finally making its exit. The sun hung over the city longer than usual, illuminating the new bloom of this season’s seeds. Spring was near.
I wouldn’t consider Toure’ an actual problem from my past, but he was definitely becoming a predicament of my present. It seemed as if the romance we once shared was progressively dissipating from our relationship, and becoming replenished with animosity. Toure and I spoke every day, but it was as if we hardly communicated. We hardly held whole conversations these days- and whenever we did speak, an argument violently pushed the conversation to the side. There was constantly a reason to disagree when it came to our relationship, and I was growing weary.
Were relationships supposed to be this difficult?
Almost a year ago, Toure and I met in an English class. He became my tutor- if you consider him writing almost all of my essays as being a tutor. He was an aspiring journalist who was pursuing a degree in Communications. We began to hang out more and more, and over time I inevitably developed feelings for him. I fell in love with his mind. He had an amazing way with words, and was always so sweet and thoughtful toward me.
On the contrary, I always felt as if there were something missing. I still have no idea what this something may be, but I honestly didn’t believe that I’d be around much longer to figure it out.
There had to be something else.
Something better.
Better for me.
The manager pointed me toward my section where an attractive man sat alone playing with his iPhone.
He had to be waiting on somebody.
I painted on an imaginary smile as I approached the booth. On the table sat a single menu.
He’d be dining alone.
“Good afternoon!” I exclaimed. “My name is Angela, and I’ll be taking care of you today. Could I start you off with a beverage?”
“Good afternoon, Angela.” The man smiled at me and his beautiful straight, white teeth caught me off guard. “My name is Ryan, and I’d love a glass of water as I look over your sushi menu.”
I hope you enjoyed the 3rd chapter of my weekly short story series, Hump DAZE! If you happened to miss the 2nd installment- or just need to refresh your memory, CLICK HERE! Stay tuned for the 4th chapter next Wednesday!
Follow me on Twitter @PointOfLu
Hump DAZE *Same Old Shit*
Wednesday, June 22, 2011 by PointOfLu | No Comments | Category: Entertainment, Uncategorized
Angela
Could one decipher the difference between their aggravation and exhaustion?
I was still tired from the night before, annoyed about how cold it was at such an early hour, my feet were killing me and I didn’t know whether to dance around or cross my legs in order to hold the urine inside of me.
I did a little bit of both.
The dirty floor that I stood on wasn’t helping the situation, but I couldn’t take another moment in those heels.
He wouldn’t have a mat of some sort outside of his apartment door. What did I expect?
I’ve finally come to the conclusion that select people are on an entirely different time clock than the majority of human beings. There must be some sort of chemical imbalance that alters their personal perception of instance, because there is no way on earth that these people could have any idea of what time it may be and just totally ignore it’s significance.
I don’t believe that it’s entirely their fault. It must be physically and mentally impossible for a person to arrive to everything in their life behind schedule- on purpose. I guess these individuals utilize their instincts to determine the perfect time to arrive late to any, and everything.
It should be illegal to defy the laws of time, and all offenders should be prosecuted to the full extent. I wouldn’t have to go too far to track down my case.
I’d been knocking on Derrick’s door for about ten minutes now, and it was way too cold to stand outside for any longer- especially while still wearing the same outfit from last night, holding my purse and heels. I looked like the poster child of a night gone terribly wrong.
It was a night gone terribly wrong. A total waste of an outfit.
I reached into the purse for my phone, and then remembered that it was dead.
Greatness.
Usually, I would have called him as I was coming off the exit (which is seven minutes away), just to get him to stop whatever he’s doing and unlock the door for my entry. If I didn’t, I knew that I’d face the consequences of standing outside until he finally remembered that he was expecting company, or until he heard somebody kicking the door down- as I was seconds away from doing.
Just as I was about to cock back my right leg, the door opened and there stood Derrick- shirtless with a doobie hanging from his mouth.
Typical.
“Took you long enough!” I pushed my way past him and rushed to the bathroom.
“Well good morning to you too, sunshine!” I heard him exclaim from behind me.
I chuckled as I dropped my belongings to the ground of his bedroom, catching a glimpse of a condom wrapper on his bedside table and another on the floor as I entered the bathroom. I clicked on the light, turned on the faucet and then took a seat on the throne.
“Looks like somebody enjoyed their night!” I shook my head as I relieved myself. Peeing never felt better.
“What the hell are you doing here this early?” He ignored my exclamation. “And I don’t know why you stay turning on the water as if I can’t still hear your ass piss!”
“I’m actually just leaving The W.” As I washed my hands, I started to recall the previous night’s events. “And mind your damn business! It makes me feel better.”
Drunken conversation. Emotional maneuvering. Uncomfortable instances. No sleep.
That about sums it up.
“The W? What was going on there?” Derrick prodded.
I opened the bathroom door and he stood in the doorway as he started lighting the blunt. He still had no shirt on, and probably wouldn’t put one on until it was time to venture out into the world.
“Put some clothes on, Derrick.” I pushed him to the side as I emerged from the bathroom. I sat on the edge of his bed and then instantly hopped back up, remembering that they’d been freshly inaugurated.
“What’s the matter? Getting turned on?” He gyrated in front of his mirror and admired himself while doing smoke tricks. I watched him as smoke slowly escaped from his lips and made its way to his nostrils. “Don’t you dare avoid my question! What happened last night that has you stumbling into my apartment at 8 in the morning?”
“Where the hell do I start?” I grabbed my phone and charger, plugged it to the wall and turned it on. “I wanted to get a drink after work, but couldn’t find any stable plans so I decided to go hang out with our co-worker Jessica, her boyfriend and his friend Jonathan. I should have known not to place myself in that position, because I instantly became the third wheel- as well as the uninterested but incessantly attempted.”
I continued my story about how we all went out for dinner and drinks at Sage. The ambiance was classy, the food was delicious, and the idea was a great gesture until “going Dutch” became the topic of choice as we took our last bites of dessert. Frankly, I don’t think anything is wrong with separate checks- as long as that particular plan is specified as the original plans are being created!
I know I’m not the only person who orders differently when somebody different is paying.
In addition to that lack of communication, Jonathan also continued to make it very clear that his plan was to have sex last night. Every other phrase from his mouth had something to do with a position, or sexual preference. I wasn’t familiar with the ladies that he was used to dealing with, but if he didn’t even have the decency to cover my meal, he’d be lucky to get as little as a glance from me after dinner.
Once we left Sage, Jonathan’s next genius plan was to find a place where we could get more drinks and watch the game. He spoke of a bar that served cheap drinks and wouldn’t be too crowded, but failed to mention that he had no idea where this place was- nor could he recollect the correct name.
After driving around and around Atlanta for about an hour, I confessed that I was tired of watching Jessica and her man lose themselves in each other and hearing Jonathan regurgitate numerous reasons that I should consider dating him. I told them that I didn’t care where we were in ten minutes- as long as it was no longer a Chevy Cavalier coupe with no space to breath in the backseats.
Jessica’s boyfriend’s Chevy Cavalier, mind you.
Jonathan didn’t have a car.
I should have kept my thoughts to myself, because this became an open space for Jonathan to slide in his suggestions of retiring to a hotel room that was already purchased for the night.
Jessica was sure to inform me that she was the person who purchased a room at The W for herself and the boyfriend, but Jonathan invited himself along earlier that night.
I couldn’t stand a mooch, or a broke dude!
I was over it all, but I didn’t want to force them to bring me all the way back to my car- which we left at Slice, and ruin any plans. As long as I could get into a comfortable bed minus the desperate man who was ignorant to the ways of female communication, I’d be content.
I definitely should have forced them to bring me all the way back to my car.
We stopped at the liquor store and got a bottle of cheap rum and some cranberry juice to take back to the room.
My vagina locked the top lock.
When we finally we got up to the room, all Jonathan did was offer me drink after drink and challenge me to alcohol consumption contests – all of which I denied participation. Jessica and her boyfriend just laid on the bed flirting and teasing each other.
I’d never felt more helpless.
“The room wasn’t even a suite like what I expected! It was on the second floor, had one bed and it was almost the same size as Jessica’s man’s car!” I continued my sad story. “I was ready to leave before we even arrived, and I would have definitely escaped if my car wasn’t left at Slice- along with my phone charger!”
“Damn. Sounds like a night to remember! You should have known this was going to happen if you went anywhere with Jessica, though.” He said, passing me the smoking transplant patient before he lay on the bed. “Do you work today?”
“Yeah, that’s why I came over to bother you. I open. I’ll be leaving from here…if you don’t mind.” I took a pull, and let the smoke rest in my lungs. “Since I didn’t work last night, they put me on for today at brunch. Assholes. Can I borrow some shorts?”
“Damn. You could have worked with me last night, made some money and avoided all of that bullshit! You know where the shorts are.”
“I know.” I started to pass him the roach as I headed to his dresser. He declined.
“Go ahead, love. You need it more than I do.”
Derrick has been my best friend for almost two years. I met him when I started working as a server at The Strip, and we hit it off fairly soon after. We seemed to have almost everything in common- including the lack of sexual interest in each other. Due to the fact that we were always together, people constantly inquired about our relationship status and assumed that we were more than what we really are. Though irritating, that didn’t annoy me as much as the fact that people these days really had no belief in strictly platonic relationships. I truly believed that everybody wasn’t out to bump uglies with everybody, and that you could be just friends with whomever you want. Though there were some things about him that got on my nerves, he was always (and will always) remain that one friend that I could count on whenever I needed a helping hand, shoulder to cry on or shift covered.
“What was your man doing last night?” Derrick asked.
Just as I was about to answer his question, my phone vibrated. I made my way over to it and read the text message that I received.
Hey, gorg. I don’t know when u’ll get this, cuz I know u’re out enjoying urself. I’m bored out of my mind! I’m going 2 bed. I love u.
I smiled and started to write a response, but the indication of a new message interrupted my plan. The second text message said,
I don’t understand y I can’t ever get in contact with u when I want 2. I’m tired of having all this time 4 somebody who refuses to give me any of theirs. If you continue to take your time when it comes to me, you’ll eventually run out of mine.
An exasperated sigh escaped my lips as I turned my phone off and placed it back on the charger.
Jheri
“We’ll be arriving in Atlanta, Georgia in approximately thirty minutes.” The bus driver’s scratchy voice on the intercom interrupted my thoughts.
Finally.
I glanced at my phone.
9:27AM.
I’d been on this Greyhound bus for two days already, and the adventure was getting old. I’d listened to almost every song in my iPod- twice, caught up on all of my work and slept most of the ride away. I was ready to step out of the bus and into my new life.
Thank God we would be arriving early.
It seemed as if we’d gone all over the United States- passing through Phoenix, Dallas, Jackson, and finally Georgia. I spent most of my time catching up on updates for my website, listening to music or sleeping.
The passing scenery was beautiful and I enjoyed the time alone, but I was ready to reach my destination and finally meet up with my sister. The anxiety was unbearable.
It had been about a year too long since I’d last seen Ashley. After the accident, she packed up her life and moved to Atlanta to pursue a career in photography. According to her, it was one of the best decisions of her life.
I couldn’t wait to find out what was in store for me in this new city.
I pulled out my phone and sent Ashley a text.
I’m about thirty minutes away. Can’t wait to see you, girl!
Riding the bus wasn’t usually my first choice, but the contents of my baggage affected that decision.
Decisions. What an interesting concept.
A single choice one made could steer their whole life toward a totally different direction, keep it at the same place- or a mixture of both. Things could get worse, or things could get better all because of one single decision, or an array of different choices.
Life seemed to be a test that nobody was prepared for; the correct answers becoming revealed only after actually making the choices and dealing with the consequences.
How did one ever know when they picked the correct answer? And would they ever have a chance to go back and change it?
For example- my decision to leave my job, friends, family and former plans behind in California and randomly appear in Atlanta to celebrate my sister’s birthday…only to never return.
Was this the correct answer?
How about my sister’s decision to accept me with open arms- even after the traumatic experience and neither of us have yet to get over.
Or, how about the decision of the woman sitting across from me? Her decision to avoid investing in a contraption that would bring her beastly snores to a halt when sleeping in public.
I popped my earphones back in with hopes that it would create some kind of barrier and hinder her roars from reaching my ears. The sounds ceased.
Great decision.
My decision to completely exit the closet and embrace the fact that I was into men…
I’m still dealing with that decision to this day. Constantly questioning myself and hoping that I made the right move- and continue to. Praying that I didn’t become a saboteur to my own vision by embracing my true being.
Most of the time, going back and choosing a different route was impossible. The lack of opportunity to change a decision was where the importance of good decision making seemed to derive.
I was lucky to be one of the few people who ever got a chance at starting over. The accident became a gift and a curse of some sort. I’d be in a brand new city with a brand new environment and the brand new option to make brand new choices.
Hopefully amongst this brand new opportunity, my current situation would change.
I turned on my iPod. Brand New Guys by A$AP Rocky started blaring in my ears.
I felt my phone vibrate. Ashley responded.
Okie dokie! Can’t wait, bro! Put on a light jacket, it’s cold af!!
Damn. I hated cold weather!
The weather was one thing that I’d miss about California.
The weather and the weed.
I hope you enjoyed the 2nd chapter of my weekly short story series, Hump DAZE! If you happened to miss the 1st installment- or just need to refresh your memory, CLICK HERE! Stay tuned for the 3rd chapter next Wednesday!
Follow me on Twitter @PointOfLu
Hump DAZE *Sunday Morning Sin*
Wednesday, June 15, 2011 by PointOfLu | No Comments | Category: Entertainment
Derrick
I laid in bed facing the ceiling, scantly clad in dark blue Ralph Lauren boxer briefs.
Sunlight crept in through my bedroom window, lighting it up inch by inch without permission. Another day was about to begin, and I wasn’t even sure if I’d completed the previous one.
I hadn’t gotten much sleep last night.
When did I ever, though?
Amid enjoying my break between degrees and bar tending late nights at The Strip, I didn’t have much time for shut eye. I could sleep when I was dead. (more…)







