Afterburn

The moment I stepped into the restaurant, I had no choice but to question Felix’s sanity. The three of them were seated at a cozy booth in the rear. I could see the sister’s gold front teeth from the doorway and her hair was standing up almost a foot off her scalp. I feigned a smile and walked over to the booth. It was going to be a long ass night.

We managed to make it through most of dinner without making any conversation. Mona and Felix had been feeling each other up underneath the table the entire time, whispering to each other, obviously about sex. I was past pissed off.

Precious was the epitome of a hood rat perpetrating Nubian royalty. She had four gold teeth in total, matching acrylic fingernails and toenails, and was dressed like a tramp. She had on sandals in October, a lime green skintight sheath, and enough gold chains to make Mr. T envious.

Her hair was fake. Her purple eyes were fake. Her nails were fake. I’d venture to say even her breasts were fake. However, I didn’t know that for sure and I had no intention of finding out.

I was hoping the ladies—and I use that term loosely—would excuse themselves to the restroom so I could get in Felix’s ass. The mere thought that he’d set me up with such a woman made me want to open a can of whup ass on him.

Mona was fine, past fine, but her cousin looked like she was a refugee from the sideshow at the circus. I could picture her sitting up on the stage right beside the elephant man, the shemale, and the bearded lady. They could call her the “Purple-Eyed Skank.”

The silence was killing me so I decided to make the best of it until everyone else finished eating. I’d lost my appetite halfway through my baby back ribs. Besides, just because I wasn’t attracted to her was no reason to be downright rude.

“So, Precious, are you originally from Atlanta?”

She flashed her gold teeth at me, looking relieved that I was finally talking to her. “Born and raised.”

“That’s nice. What do you do for a living? Are you on vacation from your job?”

Relief turned to anxiety. I could see it in her fake eyes. “Actually,” she replied hesitantly. “I’m between jobs at the moment. There aren’t that many openings around where I stay.”

“Really? I heard the economy and employment market are both booming in Atlanta; especially for AA’s.”

“AA’s?”

“African-Americans.”

“Oh.” She cut into the remaining half of her chicken breast, both elbows on the table. She had absolutely no manners. Twice she’d picked her teeth with one of her fake nails and she’d let out several belches; one that had people clear across the restaurant searching out the culprit. “You mind if I order another drink?” she asked.

Precious was already waving the waitress over before I could respond, “No, go right ahead.”

She ordered another Seagrams Seven and Seven-Up.

“I’m thinking about moving up here. I might stay with Mona for a while.”

Mona, who’d been sucking on Felix’s earlobe like it was one of my baby back ribs, glared at Precious. “Humph, I…don’t…even…think…so!” she yelled out, moving her head from side to side with each syllable.

“But, Mona…,” Precious whined.

“But Mona nothing. You’re my fam and all, but there’s no way you and your hard-headed ass kids are taking over my place.”

I felt the vibration and audibly heard the kick Precious gave Mona underneath the table. Felix grinned at me and shrugged his shoulders, acting completely innocent of the charges of treason he knew I’d throw at him later on.

“How many kids do you have?” I asked, not that it really mattered. At first sight, I’d decided there was zero possibility of Precious and me hooking up. I just have a nosy streak and it reared its ugly head.

Precious yelled out, “Three!”

Mona yelled out, “Five!”

Felix cleared his throat.

I downed the rest of my draft beer.

Precious put her utensils down, took her elbows off the

table, and started picking her fake nails to get rid of whatever she’d picked out of her teeth earlier. “I have five, but two of them stay with their daddies.”

I was speechless. If two of them stayed with their daddies, that meant there were probably at least three babies’ daddies involved.