Not So Big Fish... (Part I)

It is the second Saturday of the month and I am keeping a watchful eye on my incoming calls. Not because I am screening them (I do this anyway!), but because I am expecting an oh-so-expected phone call.

"Hey, Jo!"

"Hey, Nics."

The usual chit chat......finally:

"You goin Big Fish?"

"I dunno. You?"

"If you goin I'll go."

"I dunno.....it's up to you."

"No, it's up to you."

"Ummm.....sigh.....nah. I think I'll pass."

Steups. "Come on, Jo! You not doin anything tonight!"

I want to tell her that she's wrong, that some friends and I are getting together for an evening of intellectual stimulation - intelligent discussions on Bush's administration, recent Best-Seller novels, the genocides in Sudan..... Or I could tell her that I have a hot date with a sexy daddy rasta man who just can't keep his hands off the Chocolate Mama! But I'd be lying; she is absolutely right.

"Who drivin?"

"I'll drive." Yes! Now I can take the usual one, two or five shots before I leave. No vodka - that shit makes my head hurt in the morning. I wonder if I've still got some Malibu in the fridge.....

Step one: tame de beast! Otherwise known as my hair. Blowdry, flat iron and then wrap. Or I can go the easy route and wet it, put some of that curl definition stuff in it, throw a headband in front and call it a day. Ummm.....steups. What the hell - no laziness tonight.

Step two: cool, calm and chic or hoochie-mama-skanky-slut-whore? Which one do I want to be tonight? I rummage through the clothes that are hanging in my closet.

Maybe I'll wear that fitted yellow dress I spent way too much money on last month. No. It's a spaghetti strap. That means I'll have to wear a strapless bra and, tonight, I'm feelin way to frisky for that. Ah gonna fuckin wine down de place and geh on wassy, yes! And a strapless bra will just get in the way. If I'm not carfeul, when I come back down after takin a jump, that thing'll end up around my hips. Steups.

My pair of jeans with no pockets in the back? Nah. That's what those twelve-year-old hoochie mamas wear to Dolphin mall on the weekends. Why do I even own a pair of jeans like that? I'll have to remember to donate it to Goodwill.....or a hoochie mama in need.

I could wear that white lacy top I got last year for seven bucks.....Wait! No! I wore that to Big Fish about five months ago and when I had finally seen the pictures from that night, I swore never to wear that top again - my upper arms looked like fuckin tree trunks! Sigh. Steups.

I sigh and go into the bathroom to do my makeup, carefully choosing neutral colors because a) I don't know which color eyeshadow to use since I still don't know what I'm wearing and b) because neutral colors look classier and I'm in a classy kinda mood tonight. While I'm in the bathroom, I unwrap my hair and brush it down. I've done a good job on it tonight..... But then again, who cares? The humidity in the air will turn it back into an afro well before I've taken my first wine. Steups. I take one final look in the mirror and brush some misplaced hairs. I smile at myself not only because I am putting on my lipgloss (I HATE! lipstick), but also just because, for the first time in a whole month, I am actually looking somewhat decent! Then, I wink at my reflection in the mirror and I'm pretty damn near close to seducing myself before remembering that I'm still kinda naked. Sigh. Back to the closet.

I decide on a tight pair of jeans and a top with a plunging neckline. A couple of months ago, I spent about fifty dollars on one of Victoria's secrets and after putting it on, I would be lying if I said that I didn't know why. I put the top on over it and..... Shit, man! Like de gyuls come out to play tonite, bwoi! De boobies..... my boobies. They're too...out there; I feel like a slutbag. I loosen my bra straps and hike up the plunging neckline of my top so that my boobies are less exposed. I look in the mirror again - much better. I put on my jeans and I'm glad that I don't have to take a deep breath and tuck een meh belly - I haven't been to the gym in a month, you see..... After I pull up the zipper, I pull my top up to my boobies, walk up to the mirror, turn around so that my backside is to it and then I bendover real low, carefully turning my head back to check out my reflection in the mirror. Nope. My thong isn't showing. I'm glad; I think that's so tacky.

I'm gonna put on my sexy black heels and it doesn't matter that I'll curse them to hell on the way back to the car after the fete is done; I like the workout my calves get when I'm rockin and dippin an ting, you know what I mean? I like getting out of bed the next morning - or afternoon - feeling like I did a trillion calf raises the night before.

I look at the clock on my nightstand: I'm late. Yes, Nicolette is the one picking me up but she isn't the one that's late, I am. I think she's picked up on the fact that I have no sense of time and so she usually gives me about fifteen, twenty minutes extra before she.....

Where do you go? Don't you need my love, baby? Why cant you come on and let us play? When are you going to come my way? Aah, aah, aah..... I sing along for a little while before I retrieve my phone from my bag. Das a rhel big chune, bwoi! Rhel big chune.....

"Hey, Nics."

"Hey! I'm outside!"

"You are?" Shit! "Okay, gimme five minutes." I'm such a damn liar; I know I need at least ten.

I run into the bathroom to brush my hair and powder my face one last time. Then I run to the jewelry box on my dresser to put on my earrings. What am I missing? I grab my purse from off my bed and check my wallet. Fuck! I need to go to the ATM. I pry my driver's license and debit card from the tight slits and grab my lipgloss from my make-up bag and jam them all in one jeans pocket; the other pocket is for my keys.

I race downstairs to the refridgerator. Where are you, Mr. Malibu? Aha! Yuh hidin in de back, yes! Come nah, man. You doh hafta fraid me. Hehe. I grab an I LOVE NY shotglass (thanks, Terrence!) from my cupboard and pour the first shot. Gulp. Geez an ages! Mr. Malibu, yuh nah easy!!! Pour. Gulp. Pour. Gulp. Pour? Pour! Gulp. Okay, I'm out. No! Wait! Gum! I run back upstairs and rummage through my purse, find the pack of peppermint Dentyne Ice and shove one of the little squares into my mouth.

On my way out, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I turn around and saunter up to my reflection. "Ey! Psssssssst! Belle famn! Yeah, you! You're the only sexy beast up in here!" Hehe. I turn around and look over my shoulder; these jeans make my ass look pretty good. I'll have to go back and get another pair, this time in a darker color..... I can't resist; I grab my own ass with both hands and squeeze with all my might. Feels good.....I shall do it again. Squeeze! Okay, enough. Nicolette is waiting. Aw, what the heck! One more time. Squeeeeeeeeze! With the cheesiest of all grins plastered on my face, I turn around to take one final look at myself and I can't help but to think, Whey, bwoi! Maybe ah'll geh a lil pick-up an ting tonight, yes!