Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Popsicle Memoirs

"So what are your plans for the rest of the night?" My friend asked me over the phone yesterday.

"Well, to be perfectly honest, and excuse my vulgarity, I plan on taking a cold shower, not drying off and laying spread eagle on my bed glistening and naked until I fall asleep. You?" After his burst of laughter, he informed me that he'd probably do the same now that I'd mentioned it. It was 94 degrees after sundown. The humidity hadn't let up one inch and there was nothing to do but bare it. So after my shower I put my towel over my bed and laid there with a Mango Popsicle in one hand and my latest re-read, 'Memoirs of a Geisha' in the other. I was reading it to gain a little inspiration. The descriptions and color of the novel always make me filled with ideas of how I want to build a new character, and how they'll look on paper. My advice to anyone suddenly uninspired by life, read it....it will definitely wake you up.

After balancing both the book and my heavy eyelids I finally put it down and turned off my reading light. I let the crack in my drapes trickle in light from the street. It was almost midnight but listening to my neighborhood you never would have known it. Everyone was outside, playing old R&B songs, and talking and laughing. I wondered if anyone outside had a job to go to in the morning. Probably not; school was out and the high school seniors of 2008 were in that fabulous portion of life between graduation and the rest of their lives where they were expected to do absolutely nothing for a few months. I remember that summer. It was the summer I was dating this kid named Phil. He was a football player at the city college, and all the girls there had a crush on him. I remember when I started there, the girls all hated me because whenever I came around he would turn into a little puppy dog and follow me to class. He was pretty hot. No, scratch that.... he was MAJORLY hot. Tall 6'3" frame, lean muscle everywhere, dark piercing eyes and a chiseled face. He was handsome in that classical way; the typical football jock except he was pretty smart too. It only lasted through the summer, but it was a good ass summer. Being as how we were neighbors, he only lived about 45 seconds away. He would call me in the middle of the night to see if I was up sometimes. "I have to come give you something." He'd say. Then a minute later there was a light rapping at the front door. He'd be standing there in his pajama bottoms and Debo slippers with nothing in his hands.

"What'd you want to give me Phil?" I'd whisper, because my mother was asleep upstairs. Phil would simply lean forward and plant one on me. Just because. Then he'd say "See you in school." and walk back to his place. Looking back I realize that it meant nothing. We weren't each other's great loves, we had nothing in common except physical attraction and a common zip code. It was just curiosity and infatuation that lasted a few months. It was a few tender kisses and a couple of long nights together. Back when sex was less complicated, and boys had less game. When a kiss meant more to me than anything. Between a summer job, fighting with my mother, wishing I were older and figuring out college by myself....there was this really fascinating, once-in-a-lifetime thing. The last uncomplicated relationship of my entire life.