A story I wrote before I met my husband, I think I was just 18. A fantasy at the time, but almost a prophecy. After Silk read this story, he wanted to see if true life was as good as prose. Enjoy!
I didn't even know his name at first. He was the first black man I had ever seen on stage, and for some reason I was drawn to him. I'm not racist, I pride myself on that. Never having been exposed to any diversity, I know a good deal about it. But I had never seen anyone that looked like him, really, never mind anyone talking about sex blatantly in front of hundreds of people. I was at my freshman orientation in June, and everything was new to me.
I felt like I stepped onto a different planet. The entire weekend was crammed with information that I guess I was supposed to remember when I got back in the fall. But to be honest, I didn't remember much of the information I got when they sat us down and told us about classes and where to live on campus. What I did remember, though, from the entire weekend, was his smile. I felt a connection to the subject matter of the theater troupe we saw. I knew about the lack of realistic sex education in high schools, and I thought about how great the Not Ready for Bedtime Players program was. The troupe does hour and a half long hilarious shows about sex education. I'm a part of that troupe now, and I can't even recall what skits they did for us incoming freshman.
I remember him. Who later got a name, once I found him in my bright blue program. Silk. I remember thinking that it was pretty ironic. I had never met a black person, and even though the entire group seemed completely approachable, I knew I wouldn't have been able to just go and introduce myself. Not only would I be shaking, but I thought he'd see me as some stupid freshman girl, probably exactly like the rest of them, just another giggly girl to flirt with him. I did want to flirt with him, but his performance was incredible.
I lied; I do remember one skit that was performed that night. Silk played the male role in "College Standup", and as he abused his "girlfriend" on stage, I could feel myself sinking back into my seat. It was hard to remember that it was just a skit, that it was fake. And as I left the room, I knew that in the fall, out of everything I learned that weekend, that I would need to remember the name of the Not Ready for Bedtime Players. Not necessarily for him, it wasn't for that. The group as a whole was hilarious and informative and something I knew that I would be able to excel at.
The first week of school I noticed the flyers. I had forgotten about Silk over the summer, but I hadn't forgotten about the troupe as a whole. So on September 14th, I got very nervous, and headed down to auditions. The lighting was different than when I had seen him before, and he wasn't in a character. He caught my attention because he was black. And I know that that's a terrible thing to say, but it's true. He holds a presence in any room he walks into, it's impossible not to notice Silk's smile. He has a quiet leadership that was obvious throughout auditions. Part of the audition was a large, group skit, and he played a part in it.
When his character neared me I felt my skin heat up, and I was worried that my cheeks were turning red. I was so nervous that the panel was going to notice my change in demeanor. For some silly reason I thought they'd be able to notice how wet he made me just by walking by. But they didn't. And by some act of luck, the adviser called me and asked me if I'd like to be a Player. Of course I wanted to, my connection with the material of the skits hadn't changed. Plus I knew that I'd get to work with Silk, and that was definitely something I was looking forward to.
Time went by, and I won't bore with details. Shows happened, people clapped and laughed, and everything was going well. He was huggy and touchy, and I can't say I minded at all. I loved being on stage with him and he would nonchalantly put his arm over my shoulders. I felt safe there, and protected, and that's what drew me to him the most. He was the first African American person that I considered a friend, which I still consider a huge milestone in my life.
We were three shows into the ten show season. I had pretty much offered myself to him, and had been blatantly shot down. I assumed he didn't feel what I did when he had his arm around me, or when we were debriefing shows and we would make eye contact. I tried to ignore it for a while, but it culminated on the night of the 9th of November.
The show was in my dorm, and the room was packed. Energy was high, and the show was the best we had had all season. Every show ends with what is thought of as the funniest skit. We did our normal simulated sex, my arms trying to wrap around his built frame. The audience laughed harder than we had ever heard them, just fueling the moans of all four actors on stage. I ended short of breath, but knowing that our finale was worth it.
The room slowly emptied out, my friends from my dorm came and talked to me about the show and then left. My roommate had come to watch me, and she approached me to talk about the show, I assumed. I was wrong; she told me she wasn't going back to our room. She was going to sleep in a friend's room across campus. I didn't know why, and for a Wednesday, it was a random occurrence, but I took it in stride and noticed, after she walked away, that Silk had overheard. I had told him several times how lonely I felt without a roommate, but he had never jumped at the open invitation to keep me company so I kept quiet.
We congregated as a group and talked about the show we had just performed. The energy was still high, adrenaline was pumping. I couldn't help but notice Silk making eye contact with me as we processed the show. I could feel my cheeks turning pink under his gazes. The group broke up, everyone going their separate ways, most going out for karaoke, like every week. But I couldn't go, I'm 18, and it's 21+. I wasn't looking forward to the now weekly routine of going back to my room to get on my computer and fall asleep soon after.
