When the booty calls back!

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When The Booty Calls Back

Its me…you remember don’t you?

Its 10:59 and I’m starting to despise time

So angry that its hard to keep the rhyme in these lines

I can feel my heart beating and vibrating my collar-bone

thumping to the tick tock of that chrome clock

26 hours ago, I was entering your room

24 hours ago It felt like you were entering my womb

Planting passion and paradise

I dreamt twice

I said goodbye to the man who was a day late and a dollar short

Now he’s scraping change and flipping his calendar back

I said goodbye…

I said goodbye! For you!

Are you ever gonna call?

I’m just another one hit wonder

And you’re taking my number off heavy rotation….

remember that Pandora lovemaking station we listened to?

Well its me…

…the one you called when you were lonely.

You remember, don’t you?

By: Shaun M Nickens

Trippin’ Over You- Chest Naked In The Park (Part 5)

Tamara was an emotional wreck.  She woke up a half hour before her alarm clock went off at 5am.  She hadn’t eaten since 3pm the day before.  Her appetite was shot.  Her patience was low and her disappointment was high.  Tamara draped an old T-shirt over her television.  She had no desire to watch the nonsense disguised by capitalistic puppeteer’s  as entertainment.  She was over it.  She was over it all.

After showering she stepped out of her towel.  She sprayed hair spray under her arms and sprayed deodorant in her hair.

“Oh I’m buggin’ “, she admitted to herself.

She still had Travis on her mind. He was violating her head space.  She had no idea why she allowed him that kind of power.  People can’t take your power away, you give it to them voluntarily.  You have to allow someone to have control over your thoughts.  Travis was a jerk but Tamara allowed him access into her temple a long time ago.  He had entered her mind, her heart, and other unmentionable body parts.  Maybe it was her ego that was bruised.  It had only been 3 weeks and Travis had already filled her position in his life.  To add insult to injury, she heard through the grapevine that the girl was gorgeous.  That was irritating.  If she was a mud duck, Tamara would have felt better.

Tamara grabbed an apple and stuck it in her purse.  She threw on some slacks, loafers, and a black fitted t-shirt and hopped in the car for work.  After attempting to put the house key in her ignition about 4 times, she decided it was time for a rushed telegram prayer:

Dear God, please get me through this day. Amen

She was running late, as usual.  She’d make up for it though.  She knew how to push that little car to the limit and there was no ticket that her smile couldn’t get her out of.  Her thighs were burning.  She had been running every night since the “break up”.  At first, it was a pathetic attempt to see her charismatic Chest Naked Demigod.  Then it became a wonderful way to get her mind off of things.  Travis made her feel weak.  Working out allowed her to impress herself with her improved strength.  Physical pain was a distraction from emotional pain.  When things ended with Travis it felt like her soul had been steam rolled over repeatedly and then cars were just driving over her mangled mutilated spirit over and over and over again.  So she worked out…constantly.  When she couldn’t sleep, she’d walk until she couldn’t walk anymore.  Sometime at 3 or 4 o’clock in the morning.  She was determined to have a tight body with a broken heart.  A heart that pumped resentment.

Deep down inside, she thought Travis would get himself together.  She thought he would be remorseful and apologize for the way he treated her. For his emotional inaptitude.  For his brute ignorance.  He never did and she was starting to turn purple from holding her breath in anticipation.  What was that old saying again??? “If you love something, let it go.  If it stays gone then it was cheating on you the whole time.” No that’s not it.

Why did she always feel like a reject from an old Ricki Lake episode?  What was the problem?  Furthermore, why was she so curious about Mr Demigod? “Curiosity gave the cat an infection.” No that’s not it, is it?

Tamara got to work safely and on time. Her day went relatively well.  She forced everything out of her mind.  Kept that coffee coming. The quart of Poland Spring on her desk was actually Grey Goose straight.  Come hell or high water, she was going to make it through.  Ten minutes before her shift ended she got a call from the security desk:

“Tamara Sprout?”

“Yes”, she answered in unpleasant anticipation.

“The 98 Midnight Blue Ford Contour in the East parking lot….is that yours?”, he asked quizzingly.

“Depends.  What’s wrong?”

“Dont be alarmed but there appears to be a bullet hole through your back window.  I wouldn’t drive home like that because one bump and your whole back window will shatter.”

Don’t be alarmed?  Is he serious?

Tamara enhanced her calm.  She took another sip of her “Poland Spring” and then she spoke,

“Thank s for the call, Chris.  I’ll call AAA.”

She made a phone call but it wasn’t to AAA.  She dialed the same number she dialed the night before when she had this same felling of loneliness, fear, anxiety, and disappointment.  The hairs on her arm stood up.  She felt a chill but it was 86 degrees outside.  Her lip started to quiver.  Her hands got sweaty.  Every time she breathed a knot formed in her throat.  The phone felt like it rang one hundred thousand times.  Finally a familiar baritone voice answered,

“Hello Tamara”, His caller ID gave away her identity.  Tamara took a deep breath to keep from crying.  She placed her right hand on her chest.  She put her left hand over her barren womb.  The phone was silent.  It was an uncomfortable silence.  The kind of silence one would do anything to break.  She waited for her courage to build and then she said,

“I think your brother may know about us.”

(To Be Continued)

-Shaun M Nickens

When The Dawn Breaks-Chest Naked In The Park Part 3

When Tamara arrived at Travis’ studio apartment he was playing Black Ops and watching Discovery Channel w/ Basketball Wives playing in the picture in picture.  He was drinking whiskey sour out of his favorite pimp cup (he won it at his best friend bachelor party last year.)  On his wall was a framed black and white photo of him at the top of a graphically designed mountain in the classic “Rocky pose” with an African proverb reading. “However long the night, the dawn will break.”

How fitting, Tamara thought to herself.  It was time for the dawn to break.  She had been standing in the doorway for approximately six minutes already.  She made a key for herself when she “house-sat” for him one summer and he never asked for her to return it so she assumed they were “exclusively dating” and she moved on from there.  After all, a key was a big deal right?  Well right now it was irrelevant.  She was done.   Travis was okay.  He just wasnt okay for her.  She was tired of love-making that consisted of him asking a bunch of rhetorical questions and answering them on his own.  In example, “Yeah you like that right? Yea you do…yea you do.” -_-   She wanted cinematic love.  Cliche love.  Novel worthy material.  She wanted a happy ending (not the kind he was receiving at massage parlors in the city.)  She knew he wasnt committed to her.  She knew he wanted his ideal.  Deep down inside he had this portrait of his perfect match and sadly she didn’t even slightly resemble that portrait.  She wasnt even sure if she loved him.  She once wanted to love him but he never gave her the chance.

9 minutes and 23 seconds…

Finally she cleared her throat. Without even looking up, he chuckled and said,

“I know a perfect alllll natural remedy for an irritated throat , little mama.  You thought I didn’t know you was standing there? I heard your car when you parked across the street.  I know how many times your heart beats per minute.  You think anyone would ever be in my personal space without me knowing it?  You love attention.  You want the whole show to stop when you walk through the door.  Awwwwwww… it’s not your world girl.”

He’s such an a____

interrupting her thoughts he said, ” You’re probably calling me out my name right now.  Probably questioning why you deal with me.  But I think we both know the answer to that question…”

Travis stopped the game and put the remote down.  He really wanted to finish what he was doing but his “power cord” needed to be re-charged and there was a charger standing in his doorway wearing skin-tight jeans and a hot pink top that looked like it came off easily.  He decided to smooth things out a bit.  He could be a little arrogant at times but it’s because he knew Tamara wasnt going anywhere.  She thought she could change him.  She thought he was emotionally inept.  None of this was the case, however.  Travis knew what he wanted and never settled. Tamara was okay. Just not okay for him.  She was supposed to be a “one-nighter” but he kept her around because she was cute and she had a dependant nature about her.  As a man, it felt good to be needed.  With Tamara, he was needed and wanted.

He attempted to touch her hair but she flinched and took a step back.  So he grabbed her arm and smacked her right butt cheek so hard that it stung and a tear ran down her cheek.  Tamara was quiet.  She just glared at Travis.  He pushed her on the floor.   Purposely missing the couch because his magazines and his remote controls were there.  He glanced up at the television to see the beautiful Shaunie Oneal. “Motivation…”, he thought.  He turned Tamara around, grabbed her long brown hair, jerked her head back and said, “Why do you play these games with me? This isn’t a battle, T.”  He let go of her hair and her head almost hit the floor.  He looked at her jeans again and decided they weren’t worth the effort so he pulled at the waist and broke the top button and the zipper.

“You can go to Rainbow Shop and get another pair”, he said.

Tamara’s body remained motionless. Travis continued his one man show. In her mind, Tamara had already left the building and the “relationship” and this living nightmare.

Wait for it…wait for it…

His classic monologue began, “Yeah you like that right? Yea you do…yea you do…”

Tamara muttered something through clenched teeth and tears.

“What? I can’t hear you”, he said.

I hate you.

He heard that.  Loud and clear. Threw him off completely.  Psychologically and physically, Travis was paralyzed.  He was just playing.  He thought she liked his rough exterior. Was she crying?  When did that happened?  Did he go too far? He didn’t want her but he didn’t want to lose her either.  Not right now.  Travis got up and sat on the couch motionless and emotional.

“I hate you”, Tamara repeated. She took advantage of this lull in the storm and moved quickly to his dresser drawer.  She pulled out his favorite sweats (after all, she’s the one who bought them) and she swiftly took off her jeans and replaced them with the grey Ralph Lauren sweatpants.  She tossed the jeans in the garbage.  She grabbed what was left of the whiskey sour from the refrigerator and poured it over his flat screen television.  Its sparked and sputtered and finally a smile crept over her face.  He still didn’t move.

Finally, Tamara threw the spare key through the glass frame of that sickening black and white photo of Travis and said:

“However long the night, the dawn will break.  I’m cutting your phone off and taking it off my plan tomorrow.  Have a nice day.”

She left and then she peeked her head back in and said, “When I see your mama in church on Sunday….I’m telling her everything. Bye!”

(To Be Continued)