Fine, But Crazy, Part II

Why didn't I learn my lesson from Bernice? If you missed her story, then you may want to go back to Part I to get the low down.

After three weeks, Bernice finally gave up and stopped calling me. She wanted to make things right with me and even offered to have her stripper friend, Chalinda, join us in a threesome. As tempting as it would have been to experience that, I did the mature thing and turned her down. I was not going to get caught up in more drama.

Until I met Contessa. An elegant name for an elegant woman. She had the hourglass figure and lips that would make a lollipop shed a tear. She was about four years older than me and knew exactly what she wanted. Well, I wish she would have told me what it was she wanted up front. Here goes:

My cousin dated her cousin. He called me and said, "Q, I got one for you, cuz. She's 28 or 29 with a five year old boy and she has a body like Page 43."

(for those who may not know, in Jet Magazine, the swimsuit model was always on page 43)

"Put her on the phone."

I chatted with her for a few and invited her to come over with her cousin and my cousin. She asked if she could just come over by herself. I should have dropped the phone and ran, but instead, I said what any 26 year old idiot man would say, "where can I pick you up?"

I get her address and arrive at her house less than 10 minutes later. As she came out of the house, I almost choked on my gum because she's a lot more attractive than I expected. She gets into my car and introduces herself with a beautiful smile and those full lips. I can't be this lucky, right? I wasn't.

We get back to my house and she asks if she can take off her shoes and make herself comfortable on my couch. I oblige and break out the wine coolers she requested we buy at the store before arriving to my house. "So, why are you single?," I ask from the kitchen while putting the other coolers in the refrigerator.

"Who said I was single?"

I paused with my head still halfway in the refrigerator thinking that if I stayed there long enough that some how that statement would be retracted. It wasn't and my ears were getting cold. "You have a man?"

"Yes, I do, but it's nothing for you to worry about. He's in Alabama."

A long distance relationship. Well, that's not a big deal at all. No wonder she's lonely on a Friday night. I regain my composure and position myself on the couch to watch that same "Die Hard with a Vengeance" movie that never made it past the opening credits whenever Bernice was over. "So, where's your son?", I asked taking a sip of the fuzzy navel wine cooler.

"He's with his dad in Alabama."

"How long will he be there?"

"Oh, they'll be back tomorrow. That's why I wanted to see you tonight. By the way, I love this couch. This is going to be my spot whenever I come over. Can I see the rest of your house?"

Is this Bernice all over again? Am I going to show her the bathroom only to have her come out naked? I start giving her a tour with anticipation in my eyes as she walked in front of me down the hall. "How long have you and dude been together?"

"I've been with him since I was 17, but we've been marr... together for 11 years."

"Wait," I thought to myself. "Was she about to say 'married?' Am I just being paranoid?"

I decided to ask another question. "Does he know that you go out with other guys?"

"Man, my hubby would kill me if he knew I was over here."

"Hubby?"

Now, keep in mind that this is 1997 and calling someone who wasn't your spouse "hubby and wifey" was not common back then. If someone in 1997 used that term to describe their significant other, then they were married!

"Uh, Contessa," I started, "this ain't gonna work. Even though your husband lives in Alabama, I can't do this."

"He doesn't live in Alabama, he lives with me. He just drives trucks and he's driving through Alabama right now."

"Wait. I picked you up at that man's house? You live right around the corner from me!"

"He'll never know. He won't be home for at least an hour. I can come over when he's out of town and we can have some drinks and chill."

"At least an hour? Are you..." I stopped in the middle of my sentence and retreated back into the den. I grab her coat, purse and heels and pass it to her. "I'm taking you home. I don't hang out with married women. You're fine and all, but you're crazy if you think your husband isn't going to sneak home on you one night and find you over here."

She took the coat from me and headed to the car. She didn't appear to be mad at all. She knew that her loose (full) lips sank her ship when she mentioned "hubby." It was total silence as I drove her home and ended up dropping her off a street over from her house because sure enough, her husband's rig was parked on their street. "Oooh, you were right! He did get home early," were the last words I heard Contessa say as she slid her apple bottom out of my seat and started walking home.

I wondered if it was the last time she would ever try to pull a stunt like that on her husband.  As I arrived home and unlocked my door and finally felt safe again, I made a promise to myself that never again would I not get to know a lady first before inviting her over. I was 0-for-2 in good decision making and I was only a few months removed from living with my parents. If I was going to survive on my own, I would have to make better decisions when it came to women. Thank, God I finally listened to myself.

However, the drama in my new home didn't stop there. But, I'll have to share the story of "Psycho Dad" on another day.




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