�You must be high. I�m not a bitch. I�m a nice girl.� I replied.
Trace laughed. �Yes, you�re a wonderful girl to us but not to guys especially not guys that allow themselves to be used like this Keith fool.�
�I didn�t use him,� I replied offensively.
�Sweetheart of course you did. That what a bitch does and girl, in the 21st century a girl needs to be a bitch to get what she wants. Don�t act like it�s a bad thing.� Trace went on.
I was worried, �What do you mean I used him? I was nice to him and had fun. I didn�t use him!�
�Femi, calm down. It isn�t a big deal. If he was in Wisconsin, would you have talked to him?�
�Nope, I don�t think so. But this was a unique situation.�
�Exactly, you�re bored and alone in New York and need someone to entertain you �that�s why you�re friends with him. You knew he wanted more than friendship and instead of discouraging him, you used it to your advantage.� Trace was on a roll.
�Listen.� I was getting mad. �I never used anything to my advantage. He likes me? Since when? Girl, it�s simply a friendship thing. Nothing deeper than that. I mean hello?! I don�t live here, how am I gonna try to start anything with anyone like that?
�Girl, please, you know he likes you so stop being in denial. I even think you like him too but differently, because I cannot see how you can be attracted to such a person. You need more of a challenge, someone that would keep you on your toes. Not Keith.� Trace said definitively.
�Whatever Trace, it�s not like that and you know it.� I just couldn�t let the whole bitch thing go. �Amber you are smart, unlike some people,� I continued as Trace snorted. �Am I a bitch?�
Amber hesitated before she said, �Well, kinda. You are somewhat self involved and don�t seem to care about other people�s feelings in the process sometimes but you�re really a good person.�
After a few more minutes I hung up the phone and pondered about what I�d been told.
The rest of the week was boring as hell. I walked around Central Park and fell deeper in love with the city. I also learned something about myself �I don�t mind my own company. Maybe Keith became a crybaby so that I could become an adult and be by myself. Makes sense to me.
The rest of the week was o.k, I had lunch with Anita and gay Jeremy (they are dating) and I can�t wait till I�m done with this freaking training (one more week, yippee!)
On Saturday I finally went to see bloody Aunty Toyin in Brooklyn. As I previously told you, this woman isn�t really my Aunt �just my Dad�s friend�s widow. I don�t like this woman because she�s too touchy-feely with the aroma of a skunk.
So I got to her house around 3pm and was met with this foul smell. I could never describe it but Aunty Rebecca once said that it smells like a Nigerian gutter. The one and only time I went to Nigeria was when I was 6 and all I remember are dirt roads.
I hadn�t been sitting for 1 minute when Aunty Toyin directed the conversation to her favorite topic.
�So when are you getting married?� She asked. I didn�t answer. �Why are you looking at me like that? Answer now?�
�Aunty I am not engaged.�
�When are you getting engaged? You�re not getting any younger.�
�Aunty, I am only 23.�
�And so?� She wasn�t buying it. �By 23, you should have your prospects. The families should have met.� She continued. �At your rate, you�ll end up an old maid. Look at how you are dressing. How can a respectable man want to marry you?� blah blah blah.
Do you understand why I dislike Aunty Toyin so much? Stupid, fat, funky witch!!!!
Femi, 2:30pm, Saturday August 17, 2002.
