“Fast and Furious”

How do you feel about a woman who sleeps with you on the first date?

I like Jackie. She’s making things easy for me and I appreciate this. I finish off my shot of Patron and follow it with a swig of Corona. I smile at her. She looks really pretty with the restaurant’s Christmas lights highlighting her in the background. She waits for my answer. I can see that her eyes hope for the best. I consider my words carefully.

Do you want to go to my house after this?

Yeah, but not if you’re going to think I’m a hoe.

My heart cracks a little for her.

I’m not going to think you’re a hoe.

That’s what you say now.

I grin, wanting to laugh. I know better not to.

You’re laughing at me!

I can see that she’s on the verge of getting upset. She’s as emotional as they come.

I just think that you’re sweet. I like you. Besides, it not like we just met.

I know Jackie from high school and she’s one of the few girls from my 10th grade class who has been able to maintain her appearance despite having two boys from a cop. If it wasn’t for this, I would consider her much more than I do. Cops have way too much power to abuse and can make a lot of trouble for a guy like me. The kind of trouble that’s not so easy to get out of. I don’t usually fuck with women who have cops in their lives.

I know, but it’s not like we ever hung out either.

You should have another margarita.

I think you’re right.

After dinner, Jackie and I take a taxi to my place. The cop has Jackie’s boys for the weekend so there are no time constraints.

The jarring cab ride up Broadway makes Jackie sick. That last margarita backfires on me. We enter my apartment just in time. I direct her to walk straight to the bathroom. Jackie barely lifts the toilet lid up in time before she vomits into the bowl. I rub her back as she hacks her 60 something dollar dinner up. I realize that I am not going to have sex with Jackie tonight. I amuse myself by trying to make out what’s what in the bowl. I catch myself being crazy and I go fetch a towel and wet it. I bring it to Jackie. She wipes her pained face with it. I offer her sympathetic eyes and shrug.

I’m sorry. She tells me. I know she’s embarrassed.

These things happen. It’s cool.

I feel stupid.

Don’t. It’s only a matter of time before you see me like this.

She looks perplexed. She doesn’t know what she should do next and is wondering if she should leave. I can tell she wants to stay, but doesn’t know how to tell me. I feel sorry for her. Her vulnerability triggers something paternal in me. I want her to stay.

Do you want me to get you a tee-shirt to wear to sleep with?

Jackie looks surprised. You want me to stay?

Yeah. Why not? It’s late. There’s no need for you to go home at this time.

Okay.

Jackie and I go to bed. It feels good falling asleep with my arm wrapped around a warm, female body. Sometime during the night, we awake and have sleepy, lazy sex. It’s nice.

I wake before Jackie and go to the store to pick up some breakfast. I feel indecisive. I want to impress her by making an amazing breakfast, but I also don’t want to risk of her getting attached to me. I am not sure about her. Fucking cops, I can’t help think.

Jackie wakes up to an omelet filled with pieces of lox and cream cheese, lightly seasoned with Goya Sazon. I also bring toasted buttered bagels and coffee from Dunkin Donuts. I justify the breakfast by telling myself that this is what I was craving to eat. This is only half true. I want to show off my culinary skills. I’m glad that Jackie likes lox. It’s important to me that she has diverse tastes.

As we eat, Jackie confesses that a man has never cooked for her before. Great, I think to myself. We talk about the sex we had earlier before. She wants to know how things got started. I remind her that she was rubbing her ass against my crotch. She denies this. I tease her, calling her a liar and a horny bitch. She laughs because she knows it’s true. It’s good that she doesn’t take herself too seriously.

We leave my apartment together and take the subway downtown. Before we approach her station, we kiss good bye. Her eyes are hopeful. She wants to know now what? She’s so fucking cute to me right now. I want to bite her. I promise to give her a call later on in the night. She seems to like me a lot. I can like her a lot too if I allow myself. I’m holding back. Fucking cops, I think to myself again.

I get to know Jackie more and more in the following three weeks. She’s simple, predictable and an easy read. I like this about her. I’m not much for mystery. It makes me neurotic. When we don’t see each other, she calls me several times a day just to say hello. It doesn’t matter if she’s with her boys, friends or her mother. She leaves random text messages to let me know that she’s thinking about me. She makes me feel needed and sexy and this appeals to my ego a great deal.

I find myself opening up to her more each day that passes. She feels too safe not to. I let her know that I think of her just as often as she thinks about me. I don’t let her know that I also think about her two kids and her cop ex-man and what to make of them. I decide that it’s time to investigate her relationship with him. She looks pleased that I’m finally asking the questions most guys would have asked the first or second date. I learn that he’s remarried and lives in Yonkers with two more children with his new wife. He cares for their two children as little as he can get away with. This information offers me some relief and lets me consider her as a long term possibility.

Sex with Jackie is a bit too fast and furious for my taste, but I know we are still feeling each other out. She seems eager to please, so this can be adjusted in time. Besides, I find certain parts of her anatomy very pretty and appealing. This alone makes me want to be with her. Each day that I see Jackie, I find myself liking her more and more. I surrender my feelings to her exactly on the second week since our first date, which is a Saturday. I have Orchids waiting for her at my house. We share a fabulous weekend together with great food, wine, sex, blunts, DVD’s and porn.

Monday afternoon she informs me that she met her first boyfriend for lunch. This is something I really don’t need or want to know. I make nothing of it though. I think she’s just making a conscious effort to be as straight up as she can with me. Whatever, I think to myself. I’ve been guilty of this kind of stupidity before.

On Wednesday, she tells me that the first boyfriend called her the night before to tell her that he misses her and wants to get back with her. She tells me that it’s way too late for that. He fucked up. I don’t entertain the conversation, but I do wonder who she’s trying to convince: me or herself?

Jackie sleeps over the next night. She seems pre-occupied. I say nothing as I watch her turn off her cell phone, something she’s never done before. I smile and think whoever first said ignorance is bliss knew his shit. I decide not to fuck her. She fidgets half the night in bed. Sometime during the night she rubs her ass against my crotch. I turn over. I pretend not to hear her cry softly into her pillow.

I wake up at an unreasonable time for work. Jackie sits up in bed. Through the street light that seeps through my bedroom window, I can see that her face is sad. I feel like an asshole. She wants to leave with me and go to her house. I don’t have time to wait for her. I walk towards my door without kissing her good-bye but I find it extremely difficult to be so mean. I go back and kiss her on the forehead. As I walk out my bedroom door, Jackie calls for me. I look at her.

Vincent, is everything okay?

Is it?

I think so.

Okay then. I’ll call you later.

We speak several times throughout the day. I decide not to think so much and jump to conclusions. It’s not easy to convince myself of this, because I can’t help but feel I know better. I’ve learned to trust my instincts. They rarely lie.

I meet with Dash and West on Friday night and go to a graffiti art gallery opening that is featuring Futura 2000 and Doze Greene at Anges B. an upscale boutique in Soho. I see the same old usual suspects that I see at every show. I realize that I haven’t seen West or Dash in so long that they don’t know about Jackie. I decide that there’s no point in telling them about her. There is free Red Stripe beer at this show. I drink till I feel buzzed and then drunk. Jackie calls me several times through out the night. I take all her calls. Her last call is at 3 am to say good-night. I hate that I like her so much.

When I wake up at 11:30 am, I call her to see what she’s up to. I ask her if she wants to get a bite to eat later on in the evening. She doesn’t commit, but I don’t think anything of it.

She calls me at 4:30 pm to tell me that she forgot that she had a baby shower to attend that day. I wonder if she forgot to buy a gift as well. She forewarns me that we might not speak that night. A red flag shoots up. Doesn’t she know that this is the universal ghetto code for I am going to cheat on you and I’m giving you a heads up so you don’t get suspicious when I don’t call or answer my phone because I have another man’s cock in my mouth? I grin to myself and tell her that it’s okay. I don’t tell her that I won’t call her and blow up her spot.

I stay in that night to write. I retire early. My phone vibrates and I wake up. I look at it. The time reads: 2:30 am. It’s a text message that tells me that Jackie just got home and that she’ll call me the next day. I can’t help but think that 2:30 am is a perfect time for dude to be in his bathroom barefooted, taking a post-coitus leak as Jackie rushes a text message to me on her phone. I’m too tired to bother to give this much more thought. I go back to sleep.

Jackie calls me at 10 am in the morning. I let my voice mail pick up. I listen afterwards. Jackie informs me that she missed me and wanted to call me, but knows that I have to wake up early for work. I talk out a loud to myself.

I don’t work on Sundays, you fucking stupid bitch!

Not only does she know that I do not work on Sundays, but her voice cracks several times as she trips over every other word. She is a liar.

I call her back.

Hey!

Hey! I answer back sarcastically.

What’s up, Baby. I miss you. Her voice sounds guilt ridden.

Thank you. That’s nice to hear.

Don’t you miss me?

I remain silent.

Vincent?

Listen, we’re not going to see each other any more.

Why? What did I do?

I just decided that it’s not going to work out between us. Let’s leave it as that.

Don’t give me that it’s not me and that it’s you shit!

I didn’t say that.

Talk to me then.

I don’t see any point in giving her an opportunity to lie to me.

Some things just aren’t worth talking about.

It’s like that?

I’ll see you around the way. Take it easy.

Vincent, don’t be like that.

Bye.

Vincent!

I said bye.

Go to hell, Vincent!

Click.

Posted on November 21, 2007 at 11:14 PM   |   Comment  (3 comments)