I was not sure how she would be, but I was excited about it. She returned, drank her wine, and she was getting drowsy pretty quick. I said lets go to the room, and have a good sleep, start a new day.When we got back to the room, she was in a heightened drunk type state but different than normal. Very suggestive. I told her to stand on the bed, put her hands on the wall and dance. She did. Now I knew something was up here. She would never do that. She was completely open to suggestions, and did. His wide grin revealed a feculent set of yellowish teeth – some of them missing. The grin wrinkled his face to an even more hideous picture. “Wanna hear my story?” The young girl nodded slowly, her eyes glued to the deep grooves in his ugly face. “Let me see...” ---------------- It happened twenty-seven years ago... Or was it twenty-nine? Doesn't matter anyway. I was a young man back then. Believe it or not, this ugly face you're looking at once belonged to a handsome young man. I was. I was feeling better. If only slightly. Likely my stomach was empty of...everything. Food, water, bile, likely the stomach itself. I probablypuked that out too. I popped the Advil in my mouth and chugged the water.I sat down at the table in silence just listening to the radio. The soundof my dad flipping the newspaper pages.They were waiting for me to talk first.I put my head down. "I'm sorry."Dad folded up the paper and Mom dried her hands and sat down with him.They gave me their full. “Alright,an hour.“She walked in the crib about 8:20, I had the atmosphere just right, dinner, lights low, The Whisper’s "In The Mood” playing softly in the background, I thought my shit was pimp tight. I hit her off with a glass of White Zinfandel to relax her and get her head right, she followed me into the kitchen to see if I really had skills or ran up to Red Lobster. When she actually seen a brotha cooking she had this look like she was impressed, I couldn’t help but notice the dimple on.
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