In 2004 a lust crime landed me in the backseat of a Chevy Impala ducking one of the craziest alive. The slow sprint I did to the car that night still loops in my memory.
There’s a thin line between lust and crazy. Some of you think it’s cute to have a woman’s insides throbbing for you to the point where she can’t sleep, until she’s identified your whereabouts? I scoff in your face a thousand times over.
Settle in and allow me tell you about how if it wasn’t for my athletic ability and keen sense of knowing how to escape tight situations, I probably wouldn’t even be putting forth this insert today. This isn’t a story about triumph, laced with boastful bragger.
J-Kwon ‘Tipsy’ was blaring, my eyes rested in proper squinting fashion due to all the Incredible Hulks that were inhaled. I set my sights on a taller well stacked young lady. She stood somewhere in-between 6’1 to 6’3 in heels. Her cheeks were sitting proper like a they took its own etiquette class.
I slowly stepped to her and immediately started exploring the ideas of what the benefits could be after we exchanged numbers. After we exchanged laughs and slight similar likes she hinted at being thirsty. Being the gentleman I am we slid to the bar and knocked down 3 double shots of Henny. My spidey senses should’ve went off at that very moment. Take note fellas: If she’s crushing the brown liquor without flinching, then she’s making business decisions in the bedroom.
After leaving the club I felt like I couldn’t lose by trying to advance the conversation. I figured, “It’s 3:30. If she responds with anything else then I’m going to bed excuse, it’s a GO.” My vision so blurred I buried my face in my phone and started giving nothing but lies and wishes. To this day I can’t remember exactly what I said in those texts, but I’m 100% positive I gave her good lies mixed in with selfish ambition. I fell asleep on the text that had the invite over, so maybe to her she felt like I was playing to cool at the time.
Nonetheless we went back and forth for a few days. Nextel chirping, Myspace messaging and what not. The gift of gab landed me square in her good graces. When I tell you I charged my nasty card to the max. I probably still owe today. Until that one hazy filtered night… In the same club I met her in, leaning like I got 1 boot on with a slope. I feel a hand somewhat grab me by the back of my neck firmly followed by said whisper “I don’t let potential dick get off that easy.” I stepped to the side to get a look at the face to match the voice. Except I saw someone stronger looking than what I remember. Almost as if it was her buttahead stunt double. She was taller than I remember too. So much didn’t match up. The Myspace pics and the presentation before me didn’t match up.
We jabbed back and forth about how I didn’t recognize her right away. I just played it smooth and ran with the excuse of the club lights and to many drinks. But in all honesty, I felt hoodwinked. Bamboozled if you will. She slowly pulled out her phone and started showing me the very texts I sent her that were loaded with filth. I just grabbed my chin like I had just discovered new truths about myself.
I felt like a key suspect at the crime scene. There’s only one way out from here, an early exit from the club was the scheme. No such luck, she pressed me harder than a panini for hours. I was cornered. Have you ever been boxed out? That’s what we call, women blocking your movements. I finally put an excuse good enough together that let me slide out the club. I gave her a church hug and said I’d call…
Following morning I woke up to see my phone was blowing up. Texts that read “You owe me.” and “You’re gonna wish you never…” I laughed it off. Felt like I dodged a hollow tip. Saturday night was on the menu and it was only right I washed myself of the strange encounter. I’ll never forget it, it was mid 80’s, humid. Red Sox beat the Yankees on a walk off in the 11th. I strolled down to the club district to eye the talent and wash down some drinks. I parlayed with the bouncers outside the club for a few. I scoured the crowd with a smirk because everything felt perfect. Everything was peace… Until I heard that rumble from a distance. “YO MIKE! MIKE!!! I JUST WANNA TALK REAL QUICK!”
My head swiveled to left, panning across the crowd of people. There she was, easily moving people in the crowd out of the way like a natural disaster. I started back peddling and looking at my phone. It was vibrating to the high heavens. She saw and pushing towards me. I started off into a fast paced walk.
Then slow rolled into a jog. All I remember hearing is her heels clicking faster and sounding closer. I hit the corner and saw my ace approaching the stoplight. I sprinted to his backseat, jumped in and yelled “GO!!” I remember looking out the back windshield and seeing her and her girls point while the husky one was bent over out of breath. We got a couple blocks and I just started rehashing over the story with my man. When he simply told me, “You committed a lust crime.”
You see, you cant promise strokes and then think it’s gonna be all gravy when you decide to back out. Sexual beasts of the world don’t take rejections kindly.
If you ever find yourself drunk, face buried in your phone selling dreams to new potential. Just remind yourself you don’t want that trouble that comes with a lust crime.