Chest Naked In The Park-Part 2

“Miss …Can I take your order?”

What was I thinking?  That man was bad (bad as in good) and I let him slip through my fingers like a condom with baby oil on it.

“Miss…”

Not only did he look like a chest naked demigod or an extra in a Tyler Perry play but he saved my clumsy behind when I tried to get all Marion Jones in the rain, in the dark, emotionally driven, with $30 knock off FiveFingers on my feet.

“Hello!”

Tamara made a fool of herself the other night.  She went running at the track when the rain subsided a bit and then ventured into the wooded park along the dirt trail.  Bad idea.  There were dips and bends that she was unaware of and she got hyped when “Beat’n Beat’n” by Vybz Kartel came on her ipod. BOOM! FLOP! Her foot got caught in a crevice of the earth that didn’t even belong in her path and she sat there in pain assessing the damage.  Next thing she knew, here came sexy Chest Naked Boy wet with a combination of sweat and rain.  He hovered over her and simply asked, “Are you okay?”

“Ummm…hello miss?”

That night, Chest Naked Boy didn’t even wait for her response.  He picked her up (all 175lbs of her!) and urgently placed her soft behind on a park bench.  He elevated her feet and then stooped down so he could look at her lower body at eye level.

“Just looks like a scrape on your right ankle.  Does anything hurt?” he said.

“My pride…my ego…and last but not least, my heart”, Tamara thought.  Instead she just nodded ‘No.’

He looked relieved and revealed a smile so bright it could give the moon competition.  Then he stretched, looked at her anxiously as if he was hoping she’d say something…

When Tamara stared at him like a simpleton and didn’t even mutter a “Thank You”, Chest Naked Boy completed his run.

“Miss…Can I pleeeeeaasssse take your orda???!”

The ghetto hood booger broad in the drive thru window was starting to lose patience.  Tamara was daydreaming once again, thinking about the man she met at the park.  Her lap vibrated with a text message from Travis:

“Can I see you today?

He must want some booty. Smh

When she arrived at the second drive thru window, the same hood booger was working the window.

“Understaffed?”, Tamara said with a chuckle.

“Huh?” Hood Booger said in utter confusion.

“Nevermind”, said an exhausted Tamara.

“I like ya’ watch miss”.  It was a Rolex that Tamara received from her god-father years ago as a belated birthday gift.  All gifts from her god-father were belated.  It was like she was his permanent afterthought but the gifts were always good so she didn’t mind being his last precedence.

“I like ya hair.  Where’d you buy it?  What numba pack is dat?” Hood Booger was getting on Tamara’s nerves.

When Tamara handed Hood Booger the cash, Hood Booger glared admiringly at Tamara’s nails.

Wait for it…wait for it…

“Dats a niiiiiiiice cola miss!  Where you get ya nails done at?”

How long does it take to make a chicken sandwich?  Why do people always pick you apart and complement each segment of your overall look, ask you where you acquired the components to maintain that look and then continue to look you up and down while they interact with you.  Isn’t it easier to just say, “You look nice today”?

“Miss, can I have my chicken sandwich please?”, said an exasperated Tamara

“It aint ready yet Ma”, exclaimed Hood Booger.

If this chicken-head don’t give me my chicken sandwich…

Tamara was starving and her head-space was clouded with thoughts of her park-dwelling hero the other night. She had been thinking of him so much that she went back to the park the next night in her sexiest, stretchiest, spandexiest, athletic wear.  She put a little bronzer on her face and gelled her hair into the perfect “effortless” bun and walked her curvaceous behind around that track for approximately 2 hours until the lights went out.  Where was Chest Naked boy and why didn’t she get his name that night?

She didn’t get his name because she was still being faithful to the idea of a relationship with Travis.  How dumb is that?  Travis could be out here dipping his doodle in everything that moves and how would she know any better?  She was conforming to a “situation” an “it’s complicated” status of being instead of the commitment she knew she deserved.  This man would reach for her stomach and say, “Just making sure your tummy is still flat.”  God forbid he hug her and embrace her.  She wanted a man who could lift her up into the air, slide her down his tight thick strong body and let her feel his “power cord” (the affectionate term she and her girls had for a man’s special place) and then whisper in her ear, “You see what you do to me?”  Instead she was in the seventh circle of hell waiting at the drive thru window, waiting for a chicken sandwich that she’s not even going to eat.  She was going to surprise Travis with lunch and more than likely, he would just ask her why she didn’t cook for him instead.

“You know what hunni? Cancel the order.”

Tamara placed two business cards on the platform of the drive thru window, one for her hair stylist and one for her nail salon.  She smiled and drove off.

I can’t do this anymore. 

She text messaged Travis:

“Yea…you’ll most definitely see me today. We need to talk.”

 

(To Be Continued)

By: Shaun M Nickens

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Chest Naked In The Park (Part 1)

She woke up in a sweat.  Reached around feeling for the phone. She found it in the crevice of the couch still attached to the charger.  No missed calls. Four text messages:

“Hey Beautiful.” (from some guy she met on an internet dating site 3 months prior.  She stopped returning his text messages 2 months and 3 weeks ago but it never inhibited his persistence.)

“The balance in your Chase checking account is 32.48.” (An automated update she gets every time her account is used.)

“Do you want me to bring you a plate of food for tomorrow?” (A caring co-worker who always looks out for her.)

“Guess you forgot about me.” (An old flame that died out before it was lit.)

Nothing from him.  Unable to hide her disappointment, she threw the phone across the room.

“WTF? Either I am too quick to assume the worst…or the worst has happened.”

She pondered while the oscillating fan blew hot air over her. She watched it move right to left. Left to right.  “What could have changed in a couple of hours?”

NOTHING.  But since when did anything have to go wrong for a man to decide that you are no longer his number one pick?  The truth of the matter was Tamara was a pretty girl, smart, and ambitious but she changed her men as often as her oil changes.  Some men were changed by choice and some by circumstance.  There was the minister AKA the “Freak and the Gentleman” who was obviously confused about his chosen path in life.  One minute he was discussing politics, being chivalrous, and preaching against pre-marital sex.  The next minute he was playing in her hair with one hand, holding the bible in the other, while trying to get her titty into his mouth. (What a multi-tasker!) Tamara dated everyone from the investment bankers, to the personal trainers, the broke college student, and even the “but baby my back is against the wall” unemployed ex-convicts.  A firm believer that your prince is sometimes disguised as a frog, she never judged.  Her father told her as a child, “Your heart doesn’t know status or circumstance.”  Daddy was wrong.

Travis was supposed to be different.  He was brilliant, handsome, confident, and attentive.  All the qualities that she loved to love.  He had his flaws and she was prepared to accept and love those too.  Realistically, Tamara was panicking prematurely.  It had only been a few hours since she heard from him, but for them, that was a long time!  She shook herself out of it.  Why was she always so anxious?  She was in a constant state of waiting for the ball to drop.  She was always waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under her.

She decided to go to her favorite park and run around the track since she was already sweating.  No use in sitting there babysitting her phone … or destroying it.

When she got to the track, she looked at her cell once more. NOTHING. She decided to leave a voicemail.  One of her close male friends always told her never to assume anything.  What if he was in an accident or he lost his phone?  She left a KISS message (KISS = Keep It Simple Stupid) just plainly stating the obvious: “Hey. Just giving you a call.”

Then it happened.  She leaned back in the seat and she wept.  She didn’t cry because of him.  She cried because of the disappointment that she was so accustomed to.  She was so angry.  What was she doing wrong? Maybe she should act like a complete b*tch, men seemed to like that. Finally she came to the conclusion that she was overreacting and she needed to get outside and distract herself.  As soon as she tied her car key to her shoelace, put her cell phone in the glove compartment, stuck her ipod in her bra, and opened the driver side door…..BOOM!

The sky broke and it began to pour.  Tamara shook her head and laughed.  “With a day like this, its gonna be a hell of a night”, she quoted Young Jeezy.  She looked on as people started exiting the track, trying to avoid getting soaked in the rain.

All except one man.

He kept running.  He was one of those men who just looked effortless while working out.  Easy pace.  Steady rhythm. Chest Naked, his skin glistened while he ran in sync with the rain drops.  His skin was an exclusive shade of brown.  It was as if God made it just for him.  It was a beautiful sight to see.  A high school anatomy class could have studied him, every muscle in the human body, could be seen.  “Yummy. Who is this chest naked man running in the park?”

{To Be Continued}

By: Shaun M Nickens