Chapter Nine
CHAPTER NINE
Tinder Dates and Methadone
G enesis ran her fingers through her black Goddess braids, threaded with strands of light brown and silver beads as she sat on the tufted cream and gold chair before her vanity. A little spritz of Prada Candy perfume behind the ears, along the wrists, and near her collarbones completed the aromatic adornment. Standing to her full height, she reached for her phone which lay on her nightstand and turned off Jorja Smith’s ‘Feelings.’ She slipped her smooth feet into black and white polka dot heels that matched her black and white polka dot shirt that she wore with flared black slacks. Grabbing a silver claw clip for her hair, she did a quick half up, half down style, snatched her purse from the bed, as well as her SUV fob, then headed out the door.
As she approached her car to drive over to the bar to meet up with Roman, she noticed a lime green Aston Martin pull up. The tinted passenger’s side window slowly rolled down, and a man with a sexy, bright white smile leaned towards the window from the driver’s seat.
“You’re not driving this time. Come get in this car with me. We’re going together. As a couple.”
Genesis readjusted her purse strap along her shoulder as the sounds of ‘This Is,’ by Ella Mae, drifted to her ears. Billows of smoke surrounded him in a sexy haze as he loosely held a long cigar, his eyes a gold and cinnamon smolder. Before she could respond, he put the vehicle in park, got out, and opened the passenger’s side door. Ready and waiting.
“Come on now, girl. Time waits for no one.”
Smirking, she clutched her purse to her stomach and slid inside the passenger’s seat of the car that smelled of smoky cherries, Black Ice air freshener, and a rich, musky cologne that he’d worn previously, too. Damn. Roman. Smelled. GOOD! He closed her door, hopped in the driver’s seat, extinguished his cigar, then took off with the speed of a demon.
“This is an Aston Martin, right? Nice car. Strange color, in a good way. It’s unique.” She tugged at her seatbelt, ensuring it was secure. “I like this dark gray on the inside, too.” This motherfucker drives too damn fast. High velocity should be his nickname. My eyes feel like they are being stretched all the way back to the motherland. I’m going to sit here and try to be cool, though… do my best not to complain. Our Father, who art in heaven…
“Yup. 25 Aston Martin Vantage.”
They were headed to the B.C.D., Behind Closed Doors bar, located on Main Street. After a short while he slowed down, much to her delight. She looked out the passenger’s side window and people watched, checking out houses, businesses and the like. It was a comfortable silence. It was a lovely peace. He felt like serenity, not chaos and disorder. The man’s energy was caring and protective. She liked that. She twirled one of her braids around her finger as she gazed at a bench by a bus stop.
His phone pinged, suddenly distracting her. He allowed it to play through his Bluetooth speakers.
“You have a new match on Tinder,’ said the AI automated voice through the speakers. “Dalilah Fuentes is—” He hit a button to turn it off mid-sentence and kept driving, eyes glued to the road ahead.
“Don’t turn it off on my account. I have no claim over you.” She chuckled, though she was slightly miffed, much to her surprise. A strange little pang of jealousy entered her heart.
“Yet.” He grinned as he made his way towards Highway 90.
“What do you mean, ‘yet’?”
“I mean what the word yet actually means. You know what the hell it means. We have no claim over each other yet . It’s more than likely comin’ though.”
“It’s comin’?” She sucked her teeth, then shook her head, amused at his confidence.
He scratched along the side of his nose. “Now, about the dating app,” he carried on. “I’m not trying to hide anything. Of course, I’m open to dating and have been, but I’m still officially single. For now.” He shot her a glance, then a wicked, devious smile. Her stomach flipped. Something about him, and the way he spoke to her and behaved, made her feel like a teenager. It was unnerving, and yet, uplifting all at once. “I turned it off because I want to hear the music, and just sit here and talk to you. I don’t use many dating apps much anymore. Just a couple. Do you have a Tinder account?”
“I used to. A long time ago. I mostly matched with a bunch of weirdos.” She chuckled then turned back towards the window. “Deleted it after a few strange dates.”
“What happened to make them strange?”
“Roman, I could write a book! One guy was a doctor, right?”
“Mmm hmm, sounds good.” He turned down the music a bit more. “Shows he has ambition and can work on something for a long while and see it through. Maybe even concerned and gentle towards mankind.”
“Right. Now, to be honest with you, I figured he was going to be pretentious and arrogant. He wasn’t though, but he was definitely something ! Dude met up with me for coffee, talked about himself the entire time, didn’t ask me not one question, and left me with the bill for both of our beverages. He was the one that asked me out, not the other way around.”
“What the hell?” Roman looked genuinely confused, even a bit miffed by her story.
“Exactly. Then another guy I talked to on the phone for a couple of weeks before we decided to meet up. The conversation was good. He was smart, too. I’m a sapiosexual. Do you know what that is?”
“It’s someone who is sexually attracted to maple syrup.”
“Roman!”
He laughed his ass off. “Of course, I know what the fuck it is. Brainy guys turn you on. You think I’ve been livin’ under a rock? Continue with the story.”
“So, he passed the vibe check, too. He wasn’t really my type physically, a little short and wore thick glasses, but he was also in the dental field. We had a lot in common and he seemed super nice. Do you know this rodent lookin’ mothafucka had the nerve to tell me, ‘I know a woman is worth committing to if she agrees to a threesome. Polygamy is natural for our culture, despite our customs being stripped from us when we were taken from Africa. All men should have at least two wives, and that’s my preference, but we can start off small. Are you down?’”
Roman burst out laughing, then shrugged. “Okay, so he wanted a ménage à trois and tried to disguise it as being Afrocentric. What did you say?” She was pleasantly pleased that he was familiar with the word Afrocentric.
“I said sure I’d do a threesome, as long as it’s another guy. I told him that I want to sit back and watch him go down on the other dude, slob the balls and all, toss his salad, and then I said, ‘I want to peg both of y’all bastards with a double-headed dildo at the same time while you bite into a pillow and hold hands for dear life.’ He hung up and blocked me.”
Roman laughed so hard, he was shaking.
“Never heard from him again, thank goodness. Then another man who looked like a rotten boiled egg with long toothpick legs had the nerve to tell me that I was a little darker than most women he dated, but since I was pretty, he’d let that go. I told him thank you for making an exception for lil’ ol’ black me, but that I liked my eggs scrambled, poached or fried, not usually hardboiled and left out to spoil on the kitchen counter. I made it clear that he was cute for a breakfast food or Easter egg hunt, so I’d let the fact that he literally looked like somethin’ a chicken shot out her ass go. Ol’ Humpty Dumpty lookin’ ass.” She crossed her arms and bit on her lower lip as a new surge of anger and amusement simultaneously swelled within her from the incredible memory.
Roman was cracking up big time now, holding onto the steering wheel with both hands as he seemed to try to regain his composure.
“I’ve had a few bad dates, too, but nothin’ like that. We have the same sense of humor.” The man looked at her from the corner of his eye as he made the declaration.
“Yeah, I noticed that during our first date. We talk about folks like a dog if they get on our nerves. I’m nice as can be, but if you try me, I will put you in your place. I’m quick with the insults, if need be, but I’m not the one to usually start any mess. I just end it.” He nodded in agreement. “My daddy used to tell me I was a smartass.”
“Mine too. He still does, actually. I consider it a compliment at this point. Did you have not one good Tinder date? Or maybe from another similar app?”
“You just want to laugh at my expense.” She chortled.
“I don’t care who’s payin’ for the comedy, but yeah, this shit is hilarious!” He giggled, making her smile all the harder. He had a great laugh. Roman’s voice was deep and smooth, but when he laughed, it was high pitched and silly. Such a duality.
“Well, I had some that were okay. Just had no chemistry, or the guy catfished me, but seemed nice nevertheless.”
“Folks still catfishin’ in this day and age?” Daniel’ Caesar’s, ‘Let Me Go,’ lulled her back into a peaceful, pink blissful bubble of tranquility.
“Yes, unfortunately. With all of this new technology you’d think people would know better.”
“Yeah, I know. I meant it more like a statement.” She nodded in understanding. “It’s too easy to get caught nowadays, but some people, especially older folks, aren’t as capable of spotting imposters and scam artists. I dabble in a little IT and computer stuff, too. I like it. I build people’s websites for fun and a little extra income on the side.”
“Oh, wow! Look at you. A prosperous Goldman Sachs Associate, Marine and web designer, too.”
“I’m also a fifth-degree black belt in Taekwondo, received multiple awards while in the military and was unfairly discharged, but that’s another story for another day. Oh, and I’m a great kisser and amazing poker player, to boot.”
“Humble, too. Make sure you add that to your resume, Roman.” She made sure her tone was quite serious, though inside she was brimming with amusement. “You’re just as meek and modest as you wanna be.” They glanced at one another and burst out laughing. “I need a website myself.”
“A website for what?”
“I make jewelry. Brooches. Earrings. Bracelets. Even watchbands. Things like that.”
“That’s nice. My mama is good at that sort of thing, too, but she doesn’t do it much anymore. Do you buy the materials from a craft store, or construct ’em some other way?”
“I buy materials from craft stores, but also make many of my pieces by hand out of glass and clay. I also do some diamond pieces, but of course those are custom and cost significantly more. I’m pretty good. Been doin’ it for years.”
“Do you sell your work in person, like at fairs and craft bazaars?”
“I have, but I sell my creations mainly on Etsy and have a 4.8 rating. I’m a Star Seller. Still, I need a dedicated website, too, so I can sell direct. Etsy keeps raising their prices for vendors. I tried one of those free websites years ago, but it didn’t look right, and I couldn’t get it to take other types of currency.”
“I can help you with that. We can sit down and discuss it.”
“For real? Thank you!”
“You’re welcome. I like helpin’ people with their business ventures. If you are willin’ to put in the work, there’s a lot of money to be made for small business owners. Work hard, play hard, but always get paid.”
“Speaking of that, what made you decide to become a stockbroker and financial Associate?”
“Well, I didn’t wake up one daydreamin’ about that. Though I’ve continuously had an entrepreneurial spirit, and I enjoy learning about economic matters. I’ve also always been really good at math. I used to help my mother with her taxes when I was like fifteen because she didn’t understand some of the forms.”
“That’s funny, impressive, and sweet.”
“Yeah, but then I grew up and life came swinging. Reality sunk in. It’s one thing to want to be rich, it’s another to wonder where your next meal is comin’ from. I didn’t have the money to do what I wanted to do in life. I always wished to go to college, but not any ol’ college—a good one. There was no money for that, and despite my good grades, I didn’t get approved for enough scholarships to attend. My family went through numerous spurts of poverty. Hardships. My dad worked on and off, typically manual labor and minimum wage jobs. I say spurts because sometimes we’d get a windfall, like my mom’s overtime, a Christmas bonus given to my dad, or my grandfather would toss us some money. But he and my father never really got along, so that wasn’t consistent, either. My dad, as I already explained to you the other day, had a drug problem, so some of the money would go to that. My mother would hide cash, but he’d still somehow manage to find it, and go drink or smoke it up.”
“Yeah, that’s not uncommon unfortunately.” She sighed. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“It’s all good. It made me stronger. The last thing I want is for anyone to pity me. Even though he’s in prison in Louisiana right now, we talk often, and he’s actually doing better than when he was in the free world. More lucid.” She nodded in understanding. “My father and I for the most part have had a decent relationship in most recent years, in spite of all of that. Now, when I was younger, it was a different story.”
“What was going on?” She crossed her legs and leaned in.
“I was angry with both of my parents about things I felt they could have done to protect and help me and my brothers. They were dysfunctional, but now that I am an adult, my relationship with them is pretty good. Communication and accountability is key.”
“That’s a great happy ending! A lot of times when a parent has a substance abuse problem, it doesn’t end nicely at all. I had this one friend when I attended Houston Community College for my dental assistant degree. Her name was Eve. She and I got close real quick and would study together and hang out. I found out later that she was dabbling with Ice.”
“Crystal meth?”
“Yeah. I didn’t know how bad her habit was until one day, she came in cryin’. Told me that her mother wanted nothing to do with her, but she didn’t give a lot of details as to why. Then, a short time after that, I came to class and the teacher sat us all down. Said Eve was shot and killed by her own mother. She wanted to warn us before it aired on the news.”
“Damn. What happened?”
“Eve had a stepfather, apparently. Her mother stopped givin’ her money because she was spending it on drugs, I guess. They had a big fight, and that was the day she came in upset, and I spoke to her. I didn’t know the details; I just knew they’d fallen out. So, long story short, Eve agreed to sleep with her stepfather for money while her mother was away from the house one day.”
“Ohhhh, shit.”
“Yeah. So, she slept with him and probably had been doing it, but this time, they got caught.” Roman’s eyes widened as she told the terrible tale. “Her mother walked in on them in the act, and I guess lost her mind. The lady grabbed her gun and shot both of ’em.”
“So, both of them are dead now?”
“Her husband lived, but Eve died.”
“Damn. That’s uh… that’s really messed up.”
“Mmm hmmm. I was sad. Then numb. That’s the type of thing drug use can do to a family. It tears families apart. She wasn’t that type of person before her habit got the best of her. Eve was a sweet lady and was tryna make something of herself.”
“I don’t mean to sound insensitive or anything, but don’t you think it’s kinda wild that she was on crystal meth, which fucks up your teeth, but was also in dental school? Who would want someone like that messin’ around in their grill? Her teeth may have looked like she was chewing concrete cinder blocks and frozen razor blades. What kind of customer confidence could she possibly instill?”
“Roman…” It took everything in her not to laugh at his morbid observation. He had a point though.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He grinned and waved his right hand as if in surrender.
“Anyway, the drugs took over, and now their entire family won’t be the same. I was blessed, I guess. Never had anyone in my house growin’ up doing anything like that. My dad drank a beer on the weekends, but I never saw him intoxicated. My mama likes wine, and she admitted she tried marijuana once. It was way before she ever met our father and started havin’ kids.” She shrugged and shook her head. “We just went to church, school, were encouraged to get an education and do right by folks. That’s it, that’s all. Normal family for the most part. I mean, no family is completely normal or perfect. We’re human, but I had it good compared to many. Me and Tony had it good… yeah. Tony got into a little trouble way back when, but thankfully grew out of it. Our parents loved each other. They’d argue every now and again, but nothin’ over the top. Let me ask you something.”
“Yeah?” He got off the next exit and turned the music off.
“You ever have a drug problem?”
“Nope. I know it runs in families, but luckily that wasn’t my battle. I tried weed a couple of times back when I was in high school. I didn’t like the way it made me feel. I like being in control of my mind and body, and I don’t enjoy feeling out of sorts… as if I’m not in reality. I like alcohol, but don’t drink to the point that I don’t know what’s going on or lose control of myself. I am not one to be led or have someone or some thing else pulling the strings. That makes me really uncomfortable.” She nodded in understanding.
“I’m the exact same way. I like wine and cocktails, and sometimes go to a hookah bar every blue moon, but that’s about it.”
Roman took her hand and wrapped his fingers around hers. She squeezed, enjoying the feel of his touch…