Search the Community

Chapter 4 Carole was at work, on her morning break. Seated in the cafeteria, she was so engrossed in her book that she didn’t notice the person headed her way. “Mind if I join you?” a voice asked. “All the tables seem to be full.” Startled, Carole looked up, hardly able to believe whose compelling eyes she was staring back into. “Have a seat,” she managed to say, trying not to appear flustered. “Glad for some company. I prefer my entertainment live.” Troy Briggs gave her a curious look, and hesitated before sitting down. “Oh?” he said. “Does that mean I’m expected to - perform for you?” “If you’ve got your act together,” she answered, and laughed, - just so he knew she was kidding. “Better go back to your book, then,” he advised, taking note of what she’d been reading. “Switching from Toni Morrison to me, might prove boring,” “Bores never know they’re boring,” she said, regaining her form. “So you must be - interesting.” He took a sip from his coffee cup and gave her another inquisitive look. “Interesting, huh? I’ve been called a lot of things, but ‘interesting’ ain’t one of ‘em.” “Just what have you been called?” she asked, uncrossing her legs. “Never ask a divorced man that, Carole.” Her smile was coy. “You remembered my name.” “I could never forget your name.” “And why is that?” His eyes began to wander around the room. “Because I have a sister named ‘Carole’.” “Oh,” she said, and her face fell. “So, um, tell me. How do you think you’re going to like working at this branch?” “It doesn’t really matter because I’m only detailed here for 6 weeks. Someone with more seniority will probably end up with the job, but this temporary gig will look good on my record.” “Six weeks, huh? Doesn’t give me much time to - decide what I should call you.” “I’m sure you’ll think of something.” “I just need a little inspiration,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound too eager, encouraged by how he now seemed drawn to her face. “And just what was the inspiration for piercing your nose?” he asked, staring at her diamond stud. Caught off guard by his inquiry, she hesitated before replying. “I – I guess it was what inspired people to climb Mt. Everest,” she said. “Because it’s there.” He looked away again, once more scanning their crowded surroundings. “So, is your lip next?” “Having a lip pierced would interfere with my - kissing.” “Doesn’t having a nostril pierced interfere with blowing your nose?” “Not really.” “What would having your tongue pierced interfere with you blowing?” he persisted, a wicked gleam in his eyes. She thought fast. “A – whistle.” “A whistle,” he repeated. “In case you wanna signal a ‘time out’?” “Or - call a ‘foul’ .” “A hard one, I presume.” “It’s an age-old tradition in all cultures for women to decorate themselves,” she spouted, hoping to raise the level of the conversation. “And whack off their crowning glory?” he questioned, after switching his gaze to her hair. Once again taken aback, once again she paused. “Do you have a monopoly on - wackin off?” she asked, putting on her game face. He quickly finished his coffee and stood up. “I’ll never tell,” he winked and swaggered away. Carole was left flabbergasted. What was that all about? Why would Troy Briggs seek her out, only to put her down? Was he simply teasing? Outwardly he appeared harmless. But apparently he had a darker side. At least she’d gotten the last laugh… Hours later, done with her Pilates work-out, wired up to her IPod, Carole sang along with a ballad by Maxwell. As she hugged herself and swayed her body to the beat, she thought how much more fun having a partner would be. Wishful thinking. Oh, sure, she and Wanda hit the popular hot spots now and then, mingling with the singles, occasionally asked to dance. But usually the 2 of them just occupied little tables, huddled together, sipping their drinks and whispering catty remarks about the other females vying for the attention of the "playas" checking out the fresh meat. All of which was why Carole couldn’t bring herself to participate in these cattle calls on a frequent basis, - why she preferred the cool ambience of jazz clubs, a preference she was rarely treated to, however. And, of course, when looking for a change of pace, there were always the comedy venues. It did her good to laugh at someone other than herself. But on many week-ends, she just alternated between having friends over for cards, or renting movies to watch. Curling up with a good book was also an option. Naturally. As Maxwell finally brought his begging to a close, Carole released a sigh and once again reminded herself that at least she wasn’t in an abusive relationship, - or married to a womanizer - or hooking up with a man on the “down-low”. Or, was she stuck with a bunch of kids tying her down. She was a carefree woman! Pep talk over, she ambled over to her bed and dropped down on it. It was about that time, and she reached for her cell phone. After Wanda responded appropriately to the customary inquiry, Carole took her cue to update. “You’ll never guess who joined me in the cafeteria on my break today?” she said. “Who?” “Guess.” “The libido jolter.” “Right. Troy Briggs parked his ass across from me, claiming he couldn’t find anywhere else to sit.” “And after you finished thankin God, Buddha, and Allah, what else happened?” “We made some small talk and I found out he’s only detailed to my branch for 6 weeks.” “Humm. You better brush up on your big talk, then.” “We also engaged in a little suggestive word-play.” “What suggestive word did you play with” “Let's just say - he blew it.” “Blew what?” “Mr. Briggs ended up hatin’ on my nose-stud and hair-cut.” “Get outta here! Why would they be a big deal? “Beats me.” “He sounds like a square!” “He wasn’t square enough to keep his mind out of the gutter during our conversation.” “Maybe your - exotic appearance actually turned the fool on, and he was fightin the feelin.” “Yeah, like a homophobe who’s really gay.” “I’m sayin.” “And he certainly didn’t give the impression that he’d disapprove of a pierced tongue.” “Ain’t that a… …bitch” had really made it exciting, the man smirked to himself grinding a little longer to the squawking saxophone on a Sonny Stitt CD before dismounting and stepping over a discarded thong. He preferred panty hose, but thongs did smell better. He then checked his watch, and decided to enjoy the company of his guest a while longer. He liked how she was staring at him and the way she had carried on when he was poking her. It assured him that he was good at what he did. Too bad it took the stupid slut so long to realize this... To be continued.