At the end of a long day, I finally put the computer in my cubicle through its night routine, stood up and stretched.
I said, "Man. I thought I would never finish with those photos."
My next-cubicle neighbor Andy, punched my shoulder. "But at least you got it done, man, that's what's counts."
I nodded. "Yep, that's what's counts."
"You want to go grab a beer with me, Ryan? Catch part of the game before we both have to go home?"
I had to admit, that sounded good. And I said so. "After a long day of picking photos, a beer is just what the doctor ordered."
Andy cracked a grin. "Come on, man."
Once outside, I was thankful for my jacket. The September night was cool, and the breeze was even cooler.
I pulled my jacket even tighter about me, also thankful that the bar was just a block away from the office building.
Once inside, Andy and I got down to business -- we kicked back over a couple of beers, and made a friendly bet over the game that was in progress.
We had a good time, and watched the game until the first quarter was finished, then we both stood and stretched. Andy drained the rest of his beer and said, "Well, Ryan, buddy, I got to be heading home."
I said, "Same here."
"See you tomorrow."
"Yeah. Tomorrow."
Andy patted my back. "Nice job on the photos, man. You are one hell of a photographer, man. Keep it up."
"Thanks, Andy." I watched him leave. Then I drained my own beer, left a tip for the cute little waitress, and went to the bathroom.
As I left the bathroom and headed for the door myself, a small group of black girls came in. They were all dressed to the nines, I saw. I felt a stirring in my crotch. Lately, I've been finding that white women don't excite me anymore. I have also noticed that when I fantasize, it's been about a black girl.
My taste in the various men's magazines have moved away from "Stuff," "Maxim," and "FHM," all of which have skinny white girls, and moved towards "Smooth," "King," and "Black Men," all magazines that feature models of color.
I glanced for a second at the group of girls, and for just a second, had the idea to go over and say hi. But that idea died a quick death. I doubted that these beautiful black girls would show any interest in a guy like me, and besides, I had to get home. I had an idea for dinner that I was eager to try.
I was a pretty non-descript guy, even as white guys went. I was of average height and build, with a full head of close cropped dark brown hair, and green eyes, although I did work out and watched what I ate.
I was, therefore, pretty surprised, when I heard someone say, "Ryan?"
I turned. Surprisingly enough, it was one of the black girls. She was casually dressed in black capri leggings, and an off-white hooded sweater coat that snapped in front, with flip flops, carrying a matching off white crochet purse. A white lace bra top peeked out from under her sweater.
She had the most beautiful caramel-colored skin, with jet black hair, and equally beautiful coffee brown eyes. She also looked familiar. But I couldn't place her if my life depended on it.
But I said, "Yeah, it's me, Ryan."
She said, "Oh, my goodness!" And she gave me a huge hug, the biggest hug I think anyone has ever given me. She came over, wrapped her arms tightly around my neck, and rocked with me.
I was starting to remember who she was. It was Alisha! Alisha Cameo.
She pulled back and delivered three kisses in a row, on the lips.
"Baby, how are you! How long has it been?"
I said, "Too long."
"Oh my god, baby, tell me about it. Please don't tell me you were leaving."
I cringed. "Yeah, unfortunately, I was just heading for the door. I was just heading home to my apartment to make dinner."
"What were you going to make?"
I said, "Soup. Kind of a weird idea I have."
Alisha surprised me again. "Do you mind if I come with you? Baby, it's been ages since we've talked. We have to catch up."
I wasn't in the mood for company, really. But Alisha was different. We've literally been friends for ages. We met in college, during our freshman year. To say we were merely "close," would be missing the mark just a tad. So I said, "Yeah, that would be cool if we could catch up. But what about your friends?"
Alisha looked over her shoulder to her friends. They were waving at her in an impatient manner, like they were waiting to start their night of drinking until she came over to join them.
Then she looked back at me. "They can do without me for one night. Hang on a second, okay, baby?"
I said, "Okay."
I couldn't believe this was happening.
Alisha went back to the bar, and talked to her friends. I couldn't hear exactly what was being said, but it didn't take a rocket scientist to decipher her friends' reactions. Finally she said, "I'll see you guys later, okay?"
The rest of them moaned and bitched. But Alisha turned away from them, and rejoined me with a happy smile. "Don't worry about them. They'll survive."
"You ready to go?"
Alisha smiled wider, showing perfect white teeth. "I'm all ready, baby. Let's go."
A ten minute bus ride later, we were at my apartment building.
As we entered my building, she said, "Don't tell me this is where you live."
I chuckled at that. "Either that, or I've taken you to the wrong apartment building."
Alisha laughed out loud. "No, silly, it's just that I live in the apartment building just down the street from this one. I can't believe we haven't bumped into each other before now."
"Yeah, that is weird, now that you mention it. But we finally managed it."
Alisha smiled. "Yeah. Finally."
I turned the key, and let Alisha in ahead of me. "Come on."
Five minutes later, I was letting her in my apartment. I unlocked my door, then reached inside and snapped on the lights. She walked in ahead of me. "Wow, this is a pretty sweet place you've got, baby."
"Thanks. Make yourself comfortable while I start dinner."
I looked around at my apartment, as if seeing it for the first time. As I came in, to the right was my TV and couch. On the left, was my kitchen. All the way to the back, down a short hall way, was the door that led to my bedroom. To the right of that, was the bathroom.
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home.
And here was Alisha Cameo, the beautiful Alisha Cameo, kicking back on my couch in bare feet, and checking out my magazines, sample copies from the publishers who had ran my photos.
