by Robin Jessie Green

Created on: January 30, 2009

The Night Scholar was Conceived

He was already there when I arrived. As soon as I walked passed him giving him a whiff of my smell goods, he ended the game of pool he was playing in the billiard room. I was there all but ten minutes when he announced to the few co-workers around that it was time for us to go. By now, nearly everyone from the office suspected we were mixing it up and for those that hadn't noticed; well, they were aware now.

"Why are you dressed like that Madison? What you tryin' to do, get it put on ya? Cuz I'll give it to ya! I'll give it to ya!" He sang as he crotched down in front of me pumping his arms, chest, and pelvis like a chick in a Pop Dat Coochie video.

I yanked him up by his shirt and told him to, "Stop clowning before someone sees you!" in between laughter and gasps for air. He was a fool.

Brody opened the passenger door for me like always. I reached over to unlock his door. He climbed in, and leaned over. Sticking his nose under the side of my chin, "Ummmm girl, you smell soooo good," he remarked.

"Thank you. You bought it."

"Did I? I made an excellent choice. Give it to me now! Give it to me now!" He sang again.

"Would you quit it and drive! If you act right, I will."

"You will Maddy? Maddy you so sexy, Mad-dy you so sex-y."

"Brody?! Were you drinkin'?!"

"Why? Can't a brother just be in a good mood? Can't I just be happy to see my lady?"

"I guess... but you're acting sillier than usual tonight."

"I'm happy to see you Maddy."

"See the road man! Brody you're drunk!"

"I'm not drunk. A little tipsy maybe, but not drunk."

"Alright, pull over and let me out."

"I'm not pulling over, Madison. I'm fine." He says as he swerves, quickly correcting the wheel to straighten the front end of the car.

"Naw, negro pull over and let me out!"

"If you stop acting like such a bitc-"

"What?! What the freak?! I gotcho B! Brody, PULL THIS MOTHAFREAKIN' CAR OVA RIGHT NOW!"

"Gladly! That's that southwest Chester Ave coming outta your ghetto butt!"

"Forget you Brody!"

"Forget you tramp!"

That's the last thing I heard coming from his lips as I bust him in his mouth. We were slapping, scratching and throwing blows in the front seats of his two-door Mazda 626 parked off to the side of Delaware Avenue. Passersby were honking their horns as we rumbled. Since it was May, the windows were down but the cool night air did nothing to cool our hot tempers. We caught a glimpse of flashing lights out of our peripheral and stopped in mid strike. As the flatbed tow truck drove by, we adjusted

• 1
• 2
• Next Page >>