Let's imagine for a moment that you're at a bar drinking with two attractive women. How, this happened isn't that important but for the sake of story let's just say they're people you knew back in University and you all reconnected in London a few years after graduating. So, you're at this bar having a good time, alcohol flowing, jokes are flying and even though you're not really interested in pursuing either of them, you throw some flirtatious comments here and there. As always when alcohol is involved the topic invariably turns towards sex, and voices lower as we start to share our latest, most adventurous sexual exploits to the hilarity of the group. It's during all this enlightening banter that you're hit with a question.
"So, umm...is it true...what they say about black guys. That they all have big dicks?"
It's at this moment dear reader that the number 15 flashes in your mind, for that is the number of times you have been asked that question. All of them women, all of them white, only 2 of whom wanted to fuck you. How do you answer?
I ask you this because over the course of my life I have given 14 different answers to this same question and none have felt satisfactory. "Yes''; "No"; "Bigger than average"; "That's stupid";" That's weird"; "What's your boob size?" and so on. Honestly it doesn't annoy me as much as it used to, but it still leaves me in a stressful situation because as you may have guessed dear reader, I'm black, and honestly my dick is nowhere near huge. So now I'm faced with a dilemma. I can either lie and let these girls continue to believe in fairy tales in the hope their curiosity never leads them to see one in person,(setting up both parties for disappointment and insecurity), or I can tell the truth and educate them on the racial undertones underpinning that question while simultaneously trying not to seem like I'm attacking them. But its late, and I'm tipsy so I laugh it off, mumble something over my drink and move on to more stable territory like hentai or Jasmine's adventures with a strap on, (Jasmine being the one who asked the question, Millie who so far had been watching this exchange over the rim of her wine glass, at least had the decency to look embarrassed).Thankfully the conversation didn't get awkward and the vibe stayed positive for the next hour or so till I decided to leave. I said my goodbyes and headed for the tube to get back home.
While sitting at the station waiting for the next train, I heard my name being called. "Dilim!" I looked up to see Millie walking towards me smiling, then continued to watch as she seemingly tripped over nothing and began falling. What was even more surprising was the fact she managed to trip herself directly into my lap, spread across as if she was ready to be spanked. I took this in for a moment and after deciding I found this hilarious, I immediately burst out laughing, causing a few of the other bystanders to look my way. From the look on her face apparently Millie did not find it as funny as I did which only added to my laughter.
After the initial shock she quickly removed herself from my lap to the seat next to me. "Shit. I almost broke my fucking ankle wearing these heels," she said while taking off the heels in question and shoving them into her handbag
It took me a moment to calm down before I could give a reply. "Why are you wearing heels so high anyway when we're just out for drinks?"
She raised an eyebrow at that and gave me a look as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"They make me look good, and I always look good whenever I leave the house." I couldn't argue with that statement.
"Also, I just wanted to say sorry on Jaz's behalf for what she said before, I don't know you just seemed kind of uncomfortable about it, and she was just drunk...and umm yeah." She laughed nervously at this brief tirade, looking at my face to gauge my reaction.
"Sorry I'm still a bit tipsy."
"No worries, I've heard it all many times before. It joins the ranks of 'I've always had a thing for black guys', 'You look like my last boyfriend', or my personal favourite 'I love Nigerian accents'."
"Oh God. I promise Jaz is not THAT bad, it's just me and her are in this group chat and we share all types of shit on there, it's mad. So, one of us was sent a dick pick from this random guy which was shared to the group and well it was quite...big...and so the topic came up, but none of us could confirm it."
I paused the story at this point to look at her incredulously. "You're telling me that amongst all you girls, none of you have ever...you know what I'm not even surprised."
"What's that meant to mean?"
"Well you told me you both went to all girls boarding schools, and during our entire 3 years of Uni I saw you in the RnB room like twice. So, not that surprising."
"Fuck you, I was in the RnB room plenty of times, we just never went out together."
"So you're telling me I missed out on you whining on the dance floor."
She tilted her head in question. "Whining?"
"You know body rolling, hip shaking, twerking etc." I exaggerate whining into the bench my hands on my waist.
"When I was heavily drunk maybe, but generally my dancing is very, very bad."
"No, I remember dancing with you and you were pretty good. Hell, I definitely remember wanting to go home with you once or twice."
She giggled at that. I found it adorable. How tipsy was I? "Oh, fuck really?"
"Yeah, I remember one night in particular because the bouncer kicked us all out of Ink after we got with each other."
"Oh shit yeah I remember now. Jamie got drunk and stood on a table, before puking on it, and falling down."
"That was a funny story but a messy sight." We both laughed at our memories and continued reminiscing until an announcement came that the train was finally arriving.
I turned to Millie to say goodbye but that died on my lips as I saw the look on her face. She stared up at me , not saying anything just absently biting her lip as she chewed over something in her mind. Then seemingly coming to a decision as the train raced onto the platform she said,
"Do you want to try again?"
"What?", I asked in confusion.
