Did I feel nervous driving to the heart of the ghetto to meet a woman who I had only met online at her house?
Did I do it anyways? Yes.
I could hear my best friend Tina’s voice in my head:
“You better be carefull.” She’d say, shaking her head, her neatly pressed hair waving back and forth under her cap, “Go ahead, boo boo, but you never know, you could show up at her house and there could be dudes there–” Implying dire consequences.
But my gut told me it would be okay, so I drove down there. Boston is an incredibly diverse, yet still starkly segregated city. I’m reminded most vividly of that on the snake ride from my house to Mattapan,: as complexions darken dramatically from mostly white to almost exclusively shades of brown.
The early evening streets and porches were filled as I pulled up: people barbequing, dudes on bikes. I think its safe to say I was the only white person on the block. I felt like my skin was painted with iridescent paint–my skin glowed so bright in contrast with those around me. I covered my shoulders with a hoodie, wishing I had a cap on.
“Hello” A couple nodded as they walked by, me, and I said friendly “Hi” back.
She opened the door, even more gorgeous than in her pictures: sweet brown eyes framed by sexy black-rimed glasses and a swoop of wavy dark brown hair. A tight t-shirt and jeans with a tantalizing series of holes up the thigh clung to her curvaceous form.
“Oh, you came earlier than I thought.” She greeted me, her smile shy and inviting. “My friend’s here-he just got here, but he won’t stay long. ”
We sat on the porch drinking Pina Coladas. I was trying to assess the situation: what was he to her?
From the looks he was giving her, he was more than just a friend. Or he wanted to be. As men do, he dominated the conversation, and I learned more about him than I wanted (just go away, already!) but I managed to learn a little about her in the kitchen as she mixed up more drinks.
She was 37, three kids, one grand-kid (!) and no job, but possibly going back to school. Not looking for a relationship, just something discrete. She said she’d been with women before, but always kept it on the low. Greeat! I silently cursed my libido that was drawing me towards her even as my logical mind screamed–not the one!
She finally got Dude to leave, and agreed to come out with me. (After I offered to pay her way in.)
“So, where y’all going?” Dude asked before leaving.
“The Randolph Country Club.” I answered.
“Randolph” We both answered in tandem.
To Be Continued…