Excerpt from Me & Mrs. Jones
by k.m. Thompson
Bag Lady
“Come to think of it, when was the last
time you got a piece of ass?” Cynthia asked me as if this were the most
appropriate time.
My fork landed on my plate as I almost
choked on the grains of shrimp fried rice I just sat on my tongue. It was only
the two of us, but my brown skin was already turning dark red, and under my
armpits were about to get drenched. What gave her the nerve to come at me like
that?
“Excuse
me,” I said reaching for my water bottle. We were in the food court at the
We had just gone from a discussion of how
one of our colleagues, who is not even two years younger than we were, had just
gone through her third divorce and was already dating her ex-man’s best friend.
Hoe! Was the only thought that
would come to mind. She had been sleeping with that
guy for about a year now, and her husband just recently found out. Can you
believe she was the one who asked for the divorce… and alimony? Now that poor
sucker is paying for his ex-wife and her new beau.
Then we discussed how my so-called racist
boss was developing a thing for Cynthia. She had no problem with the fact that
he was German. Her only concern was the size of his package. “He is a cutie,”
she said. “But I’ve already heard that he doesn’t have much to work with. I
would turn that Nazi out if I was sure he had the tools – but I am not about to
waste a few minutes of my time.”
“A few minutes?”
“Yeah. From what I heard, it took this girl a
few minutes to find it, and by the time she got it in her, he was done.”
“Where do you get this stuff?” I was
intrigued and disgusted all at the same time.
“You know I don’t reveal my sources. But
girl, I believe her. Look at the way he walks.
He may act like a hard ass, but his insecurity is in his walk. He knows
his shit is small. And then the other day when he sat across from us in the
cafeteria, I had to look… and nothing. Not a damn thing and it’s not like his
pants were loose fitting. His pants are always tight where his pee-pee is
supposed to be.”
“Pee-pee?”
“Pee-pee indeed. His shit so small he can piss on his
own—”
“Cynthia!”
Neither one of us could resist laughing.
Cynthia was always spitting some nonsense out of her mouth. She had me laughing
so hard that tears were pouring out of my eyes.
And I kept on laughing until my sex-life
became the next topic of discussion.
“You mean to tell me that you bought five
pairs of underwear and you have no one to show them to… do you?” She lowered
her eyes, sucked her teeth and then frowned. “You have been getting some haven’t you? And you’re keeping me in the
dark. I can’t believe you.”
I swallowed hard, cleared my throat and
then told her that she was crazy. It didn’t make any sense where this was
coming from. Just because I bought myself a few pairs of panties and a pink
teddy didn’t have to mean that I’m getting some… did it? Well, either way, in
my case I wasn’t getting any – at all. I was just buying stuff that looks and
feels good on me.
“How did sex become the topic of the
day?” I finally asked. “I thought we were coming out here to do some shopping,
have lunch and maybe catch a movie. Woman’s Day, isn’t that what you called
it?”
“Yes,” she started. “But what do women
talk about more than anything else? Sex and men. I’m just getting the ball rolling. So tell
me, has a man been taking up that vacancy in your bed or not? Don’t leave me in
suspense, because you of all people should know that I will start filling in the blanks.”
Cynthia was not lying about that, this
sister could not get through a day without hearing or making up some gossip.
And if I didn’t fill her in, she would formulate something in that head of hers
and the next thing you know- it is fact.
“I am not sleeping with anyone. I haven’t
had a date since Stan was sent to prison.”
“It’s been two years since that damn, no good ex-husband of yours got locked up. I can’t
believe you’re still waiting for him after what he did to you.” Cynthia’s
finger was swaying back and forth in front of my face. It was an annoying habit
and I wished she would grow out of it. If you didn’t know any better, you would
think that this woman was telling me off.
“Stan’s not my ex… yet,” I said. “And I
told you about waving your finger in front of me.”
She apologized after dipping back into
her food. “He should be. I mean, that bastard held a gun to your skull and then
almost shot you in the leg. Attempted murder. Stan’s
lucky they gave him life. I can’t wait until
“Let’s not go there. I know what he did
to me, I was there, remember. I still have damn nightmares about that shit. I
don’t even know if I should be happy that Corey was there. He’s been
temperamental ever since.”
“If he hadn’t been there, you could be
dead right now.”
She was right. Period! If my son hadn’t
been there then Stan would have probably killed me.
After slurping down the rest of her soda,
Cynthia said, “Speaking of Corey, has he heard anything from Morehouse yet?”
Finishing off my last piece of chicken, I
shook my head letting her know that we were still waiting to hear something.
“Woman, I don’t know how you ended up
with a son so smart. I don’t think Corey took after you or Stan, he’s damn near
a genius. I know he still has all those
girls crank-calling the house, doesn’t he? How many times have you changed your
number now?”
“At least three times since last year. It
slowed down after I got him that cell phone, but he went and lost it. Now those
little hoochies are starting to call again.”
“I can’t wait to have a few kids of my
own. All my girls got gang loads, and I’m still single and child-less. I’m
about to go to a sperm bank and find me a nice lawyer or better yet a
physician.”
“Why not get both and end up with twins.
One can take the other one to court for malpractice suits. Talk about sibling
rivalry.”
She rolled her eyes and almost had to
fight from waving her finger again. “Don’t be stupid.”
“Me?” I laughed. “You’re the one talking
about going to a sperm bank. You have a new man every few days. At least one of
them had some sort of potential, but you just don’t give them enough time to
prove themselves.”
“The last guy I dated lasted two weeks. I
finally brought him home after we went bowling, of all places. We got back to
my apartment, and the next thing I know he’s in the bathroom butt-naked.”
Cynthia grabbed her bags, so I figured it
was about time to go. Before I could put my belongings together, she was on her
feet and fuming.
“I mean, I was all down for a night full
of passion, but this fella had man-titties. Can you believe that? Man-titties. Aargh.”
That was nasty, but instead of making
either one of us feel worse I simply frowned and kept all comments to myself.
Cynthia and I had been hanging out like
this for a few years now. Every couple of days we hit up a mall or two. Usually
on the weekends, but a new bra just came out so we decided to make a special
trip. We’d been working together for the last eight years and we were tighter
than tight. She knew almost every move I made or was going to make, and vice
versa. Shoot, the girl even knew when I had to use the bathroom. She said it
was in the way I walk. If you ask me, I’d say she’s just crazy.
My apartment was empty when I got there.
It was Thursday evening and Corey was probably out with his best friend,
Darius. Like Cynthia said, Corey was smart and I sure as hell didn’t know where
it came from. Stan and I were both mediocre students and no one in either of
our families went straight to college after high school. I didn’t even apply to
college my senior year, and as far as I know, Stan hadn’t either. Back then the
most important thing was that we both had our high school diplomas. Years
later, after Corey was born, I got an Associate’s Degree and eventually earned
my Bachelor’s Degree in business administration.
I brought the mail, catalogues and
magazines in and laid everything on the kitchen island. For some reason, even
though I just ate all that Chinese Food at the mall, I was still hungry. There
were a few pieces of fried chicken in the refrigerator from last night, so I
took out a drumstick and nuked them in the microwave. Damn, if I didn’t watch myself I was gonna get fat and
never find a real man.
Stan’s picture was still taped to the
refrigerator door. I hated thinking about that bastard, and I’m sure that as
long as he was a part of my son’s life, I would have to deal with him. Why in
the hell did I have to keep
laying my eyes on him? I thought about it for a second and then balled the
picture up and tossed it into the trash. Corey wouldn’t miss it, would he? It
didn’t really matter much because he had a picture of his father somewhere in
his bedroom.
As soon as the photo hit the bottom of
the trash barrel, a tear fell in behind it. I wasn’t gonna
let him get to me. No matter how much it hurt, I was not going to let Stan
bring me back down. Shoot, I was too strong of a woman to let that happen
again. Before you know it, I’d be a single woman again and the right man would
come strolling into my life. I believed that and I had faith that it was going
to happen.
I let myself get those damn tears out so
I could hurry up and move on.