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This is a true story. Names have been changed to protect identities.

Happiest When Wet
…I didn’t have time to debate the issue; I had to rush home for prayer-meeting with Maggie and Justin, the first of hopefully many to come. After the meeting Justin went back to his friend’s house. I told Maggie I’d walk her home because I really wanted to keep up with my daily walks, and I needed to buy some fruits.

Half way there I began to sweat and trust me, it really was not attractive. However, there was no need for worry, just in the distance there was a yard with a sprinkler. I ran over and stood under the sprinkler with my face looking up into the clouds; I closed my eyes, opened my mouth, and drank and drank and drank. You would think I had just journeyed through the desert on bare foot during the worst heat wave; I thanked God for water, the hose, easy access to the lawn, and the fact that there were no chained hungry rabid dogs lurking about.

I let the water run over my face and hands and it felt so darn good. However, unbeknownst to me, it also wet the entire right side of my track pants and the crotch of my pants; great, we still had several blocks more to go, the sun had now begun to set so it wouldn’t dry in the next five minutes, and, I had to walk back home during rush hour along the main streets. We had a good laugh about it all, after all what else could I do but laugh at myself; I knew I hadn’t wet my pants and that’s all that mattered; so what if I looked like the poster child for Depend (Incontinence Undergarment Company).

We finally got to the store and in just a few minutes I purchased a variety of fruits. Maggie took nearly fifteen to look at every fruit, in every isle; touching, smelling, weighing and debating. In the end, she bought one lousy banana; hell, I could have given her one of mine! She decked with banana in hand and I gracefully clad in my wet pants and fruits galore; we decided to hang out for a bit. We stood on the corner of an intersection; it was part of a long strip laden with high end stores and Restaurants. It was a beautiful summer day so there was plenty of activity. I was enjoying all the excitement it had to offer; I did not know what it really had in store for us.

Nuts and Bolts
As we checked out the scenery a car pulled up a few feet away and parked; Maggie didn’t notice but I, I miss nothing. While Maggie was busy chatting away I was busy checking out the character stepping out the car. As he stepped out I gasped, “nuts and bolts!” Maggie immediately turned in my direction to see what all the commotion was about. Her body shook with disgust as if I said “let’s eat worms.” She mumbled under her breath as soon as he passed us, “Why’d you have to show me that?” “I didn’t show you,” I explained, “I couldn’t help but notice.”

The tall white man took his time in crossing the street in his skin tight (I can’t breathe) red not black bicycle shorts. He went into the pharmacy and all eyes were on him; we weren’t the only ones that took notice. A few minutes later he exited the pharmacy; a few minutes too soon as far as Maggie was concerned; for this time, she had front row seating to his little showing. Her body literally convulsed, “Oh, Dear, Lord,” she said at a snails pace. This time he crossed the street at a much slower pace; if that was even possible.

My eyes were fixated on his groin; I’m sure he knew all eyes were on him becasue suddenly for no apparent reason, he turned to the side and stood still for what seemed like an hour. The view was disturbing and we were all traumatized. He turned in our direction and headed straight for us. My eyes were still fixated on his groin as I was still in shock. I shook my head in disbelief and said, “I’m sure that’s illegal. Don’t you think? I mean really, it has got to be!” As he climbed back into his car and left, Maggie and I stared dumbfounded at each other. I finally exhaled and said, “Yep, there you have it, dick and balls, upfront and center for all the world to see; nuts, and bolts. Girl, I’m bringing Hammer Pants back!”

With those words I looked down and realized my pant crotch was still slightly wet; not really noticeable, but if you looked hard enough, you could see it. Then it hit me, what if he noticed? What if he thought he made them wet? I realized that his ‘thing’ had somehow put a spell on me; I was still a bit dazed. I had to get back to reality.

Be Cool
Maggie began chatting again. We chatted about our adventures on opposite sides of the globe; she had gone to England for two years and although she had been back about two years, we never had a chance to talk about it in depth; we had a lot to catch up on. By the time we finished swapping tales my pant had dried and my fruit bag was starting to feel heavy on my shoulders. I slowly placed my bag on the pavement between my feet and then with a great big sigh of relief, I began to stretch out my shoulders.

As I was coming out my stretches, I noticed a car parking right across from us; the driver was quite handsome and he really caught my eye; after the last driver, we were long overdue for some real eye candy. I flirtatiously shouted over to him, “Hey handsome. How are you doing today?” Maggie chuckled hysterically; she couldn’t believe that I could be so bold. He smiled back; a smile so wide I’m pretty sure I saw his tonsils. He blushed and quickly vanished into the corner store. “I can not believe you said that, girl you are too bold. I think you gave the poor man a heart attack,” she said as she continued to laugh. “Girl he was a fine looking man, shy as hell, but fine! The worst thing he could do is curse me and I would live after that.” I said smiling back at her.

Within a few minutes he came out of the store and got into his car. He then bent down as if he had dropped something. He then came back out with what looked like a pencil, walked over to the trunk and placed the small item into the trunk. Maggie quickly whispered, “Ooh girl, he just did that so you could get a second look”. He smiled at me and walked back without saying a word; we chuckled like two teenage girls. He got back into the driver’s seat and reached down on the floor again, this time he pulled out a large container of bottled water. As he began to sip its contents, he assumed the ‘gangsta lean’ position and turned up his stereo; which of course was playing rap music. “Can I get a drink?” I asked. My partner not associated with this crime quickly pointed out, “Kayla, he can’t hear you, his music is too loud.” “I know that. I would die if he answered,” I said rather shyly; revealing the fact that I’m really not ‘that’ bold. “I wonder how he’ll exit.” I whispered in her ear.

As soon as the words left my mouth he smiled at me and revved his engine. I smiled back at him and then Maggie and I faced the other direction. Although our backs were turned, his exist was loud and clear; it sounded as though he peeled off at lightening speed; screeeeeeech, urrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, BOOOOOOM! There was a loud crash! My mouth dropped open and my body immediately fell to the pavement in deep despair; I sat on the curb with face cupped in my hands and almost wept; I felt sick inside. “No, no, no, no, no! This is all my fault! Oh no, no, no, no!” I cried out. “I shouldn’t have flirted, I shouldn’t; he was trying to impress me! Oh no! This is terrible!” I couldn’t stop repeating myself. I couldn’t get up. I couldn’t and didn’t dare look. I could hear the crowds gathering all around me but it was all so surreal; I was in a dream-like state of mind and I could hear the chattering and all the questions being uttered; I, had all the answers.

“Kayla, it can’t be his car!” Maggie screamed at me in confusion. “Anyway, how is it your fault? We’ve had this talk. Stop talking responsibility for other people’s stupidity!” She said scolding me in her mother-daughter tone. “It ‘is’ my fault and it ‘is’ his car; I can feel it!” I insisted. Maggie looked over at the crash site and began to laugh hysterically, “Kayla, it’s not, his, car! He’s long gone; it’s a white car!” she shouted. I shouted back in agony, “His car ‘is’ white!”

Her laughter came to a sudden halt. She pulled me up and over towards the fence; I didn’t want to look but I knew I had to. Like two peeping Toms we peeped over. We immediately saw the white car door opening from the driver’s side. The man stepped out his car and shook his head in disbelief, he then turned and looked at us; it was him! There was no smile; he was expressionless. As he turned back to his car a tall white man came out of a restaurant; it was his car that was hit; they both inspected their vehicles without a word to each other.

The more I thought about it, the more it made no sense; how, why, for what? Certainly not for me! When I first saw him he was parked at the stop light; his car was first in line the corner. When he peeled off, it means he didn’t go straight, he made an immediate left turn; a turn unto a narrow road that has cars parked on both sides; you have to proceed slowly as not to hit any of the parked cars. Maybe he didn’t know that, but still. More shocked than Maggie, both drivers and I, were the restaurateurs; his car slammed into a parked car, the parked car was then pushed up and unto the sidewalk crashing into many table; at that table, there were restaurateurs.

Although I was deep in thought, I could hear Maggie cackling away in the background; she somehow still thought it was funny; I didn’t hear the joke, I didn’t get the punch line. “What an idiot, what a total idiot!” she said. “This could’ve been a really nice moment for you both, all he had to do was smile back and drive off like a normal human being; but nooooo! Kayla, his decision to do what he did had nothing to do with you; it was his choice and his choice alone. Think about it.” she said still chuckling. I thought about and then responded in agreement, “Yeah, you’re right, not even a NASCAR driver would’ve begun a race at 1000 miles an hour; his first move was an immediate right angle turn. I mean really, who would do such a thing?” “You see Kayla, that’s why I’m laughing.” She said. “It’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen a man do.”

I continued looking over the fence analyzing the crowd that had gathered and said to her, “Maggie, this poor man picked the whitest block and the whitest restaurant to crash into. Not only that but it’s filled with the drunkest white people that will serve as witnesses when the police arrive. Maggie, this Negro is a dead man walking! I can’t even think of what to say or do to help him out.”

We decide it was time to leave; we had seen enough action to last a lifetime. As we walked down the street, we slyly looked to the left, I was silently hoping and praying he wouldn’t look back, but he did, and for the second time that day, time stood still; his eyes locked on mine; still without expression. I said nothing and I didn’t smile. I didn’t go over and offer to help. I didn’t wave. No matter what the reality was, I felt guilty; I honestly felt helpless and was deeply numbed by it all. As I walked home, I vowed never again to cool off under a sprinkler, never again to blame myself for the actions of another and, never again to flirt; but I know all too well, “Never say never.”

Written by Antoinette Forsythe Copyright © All Rights Reserved, Image Credit: the answer to the question: Why are bike shorts always black? by iwishicoulddescribeitto youbetter Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 2.0 Generic, No Need 4 Speed by amandabhslater Attribution-Share Alike 2.0 Generic, sprinkler fun by StormyDog Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic License.

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