Chapter 4 #3
I didn’t realize that there was a deep love for poetry that people had until I pulled up to the spot.
The spot was out in Wynwood. If you knew anything about Wynwood, you would know that on a Saturday night, these parts were always jumping.
It was different bars, clubs, lounges, and restaurants out here, so the traffic was always bad.
The parking situation was terrible, so I didn’t even bother driving out here.
I ordered a Lyft to pick me up. I requested a black truck, and it picked me up from my home, and dropped me off right in front of the building.
Walking inside, I showed my ticket that I had for the event to the security that was at the door. I already knew from the rules that I couldn’t walk in here strapped, which was another reason why I was hesitant to pull up tonight because I didn’t like going places without having heat on me.
The security checked me at the door, and once everything was good, I was let inside, and that’s when I saw the influx of people. That’s when I saw that so many people were into open mic.
I scanned the dark room, and I could see the candles that were flickering from each table.
This room… this vibe… this atmosphere put me in the mindset of the movie Love Jones.
You know the scene where Lorenz Tate got up there and did that open mic poem for Nia Long?
This is what it reminded me of. The vibes in here were grown and sexy.
No one was on stage right now, so there was soft music playing.
It was India Arie playing, and I only knew that it was her because this was the kind of music that my mom used to play around the house when I was a kid.
It wasn’t that big in here. If I had to guess, there was no more than 75 people in here.
It was a little hole- in- the- wall spot.
I looked around, couples were having date night, a few tables had girls sitting together, as if it was girls night, and you could even see some families sitting together.
I scanned the room, squinting again, and my eyes landed on my auntie.
It was Seren’s, and Rico’s mom. She saw me before I saw her, so she waved at me, with a smile on her face, telling me to come over.
My uncle Roy, who was Rico and Seren’s dad was here, and a few of our cousins.
They were all spread out, but then my eyes left them, and they went on a figure that was sitting down at the same table as my family, and I had her back.
Without even seeing her from the front, I already knew who that was.
I really didn’t have the slightest clue why God kept putting me in rooms with her, but He did, and every room that I would get put in with her, she would look better than the last time.
I couldn’t even see her face, but I knew she looked good.
You know how fine a bitch had to be to demand your attention with just a view of her from the back?
From the way that she was seated, I could see that she was dressed in a short black dress, that was hugging at her waist. It flared at the bottom, giving off a puffy look.
Her legs were crossed, so I could see the black, sheer stockings that she had on.
She knew to pair all that black with a pair of red heels.
The red heels went with the cherry red Brandon Blackwood purse that she had sitting on the table in front of her.
Dionne had style. I picked that out months ago.
My mom was into fashion and shit, and that’s the only reason I knew the kind of bag that she had on.
The dress that she wore tied in the back, and because it did, you saw at least half of her back, and I truly believe that was the sexiest back that I’ve seen before on a woman.
I liked the up-do style that she did with her hair.
I could see that it was pinned up in curls, and since I had a side profile of her now, I saw that there were two strands of curly bangs in the front.
The joke in all this shit was that there was literally only one seat left in this entire venue, and it just happened to be the seat that was right next to her.
I took a deep breath, preparing myself for the shit that she was going to talk once she realized that I was going to have to sit next to her.
Because my uncle Roy was sitting at the head of the table, I went ahead, and approached him first, since that would be easier. The second I made it to him, he stood up, and he slapped hands with me.
“What’s good nephew? Your ass knew to pull up and see my baby perform. She was going to stop fuckin with you, just like she threatened everyone else,” my uncle Roy said the second that I made it to him, and I started laughing.
I loved this man. He was another father figure for me.
Growing up, he didn’t have much either, but what little he did have, he would try his hardest to help my mom out with me.
Him, and my auntie Shawn weren’t together anymore, but they co- parented well, even with their kids being older, and they made sure to always show up for them.
I went around the table, giving hugs, and while I was doing that, I could feel eyes on me.
I looked over in Dionne’s direction, and she was the one that was staring at me.
She did a nigga so fuckin wrong. It’s like she knew just as much as I did that, I was going to have to take the empty seat that was next to her, and she had this crazy ass look on her face, like she would much rather sit next to a serial killer, than to sit next to me.
Seeing that I was going to fuck her night up by sitting next to her, caused me to smile, as I swaggered my way over to her, pulled the chair out, and I took my seat.
The second I sat down, the MC for the night was coming on stage, and he was introducing the next artist. It wasn’t my cousin though.
She wasn’t going to be up for a few more minutes.
During that time, I wasn’t even about to pretend that I was looking at Dionne.
Fuck no! I was going to be bold about my shit.
I was sitting next to something that was so motha fuckin fine, and I was going to stare at that shit confidently. I sat in my chair as if I owned it, arms crossed, eyes on her, waiting for her to get so pissed off at me, that she had no choice but to turn her head.
You could feel when a person was staring at you, so the moment was going to eventually come.
It came. When it did, it came with an eye roll, her sucking her teeth, and she shot her head in my direction, looking fed up with me.
“You don’t strike me as the kind of person that would be into open mic,” she spat.
Now that she was looking at me, I had the perfect view of her face.
Her make-up was done, and that shit was flawless.
It made sense now why she’d chosen to wear red heels, with a red bag.
It’s because she’d done a red lip with her make-up look.
I had a dark-skinned mother, and just like Dionne, my mom was very girly, and over the years, I’ve heard my mom complain about not being able to find the proper foundation colors to match her skin.
I didn’t have a clue in the world what brand of foundation Dionne was wearing, but that shit blended so beautifully on her. Her face and neck were the same color.
“I’m not. My little cousin going on at 10.
Everybody sitting at this table is my family.
You moving kind of fast, don’t you think?
Damn baby. Let daddy take you out on a date first before you start meeting my family, sitting with them and shit,” I fucked with her, just to get up under her skin like I would whenever I came around.
She snarled at that, and I watched the way her eyes left mine, and they danced around the table, looking at everyone.
“Don’t flatter yourself. When I got here, they had me all the way in the back, so I asked them if I could sit closer. This was the only spot that was available,” she defended herself.
“Yeah, yeah. Tell a nigga anything,” I responded.
She didn’t respond. She just put her attention back on the stage, and we watched the artist that was on.
It was a guy, and he was up there reciting a poem that was titled, ‘Bitches ain’t shit’.
That nigga was up there spitting! I don’t know what bitch he was fucking around with in the past that broke his heart, but from the pain, and the hate that was in his voice, as he gave reason after reason why bitches weren’t shit, you could just tell that there was a woman out there that had done a number on his ass.
Some of the shit that he was saying, I agreed with him, but I swear to God I didn’t nod my head at it, snap my fingers like some people were doing, or make any kind of sound because again, I was sitting next to some fine shit, that already pretended to hate me, so I didn’t want her to think that I agreed with this nigga hollering about bitches not being shit, even though I did in a sense.
I could tell that Dionne was really into poetry though.
I was one of those dudes that knew how to pick up on everything, and I immediately noticed how locked in Dionne was, as she listened to the man on stage spit.
She had her elbows on the table, her chin was propped up on her hand, and her eyes were fixed on him in a way like no one else was in the room.
Even though some of the shit that he was up there saying about women was a little degrading, it was power in his words, he had a nice flow going on, and the way he was able to rhyme with his words was tough.
Dionne would nod her head when he touched on some key points, as if she felt the things that he was saying.
I could tell that this wasn’t just a casual night out for her, and something that she was dragged to like I was.
She thoroughly enjoyed it, which is the reason she’d gotten all dressed up tonight for it, and did what she had to do so that she could be in the front.