Booty Call *69 by Erick Gray Read Free Book Online Page A

when she described him to me; she didn’t sound so excited about the guy. But I’m a woman of my word, and I promised to come with her.
    We walk out together toward the truck. I desperately try to see inside the window, to get a better glance at my doomed blind date. “Promise to be nice to him, Shana,” Sasha pleads. But that’s a promise I know I can’t keep; if he doesn’t attract me, why be nice? I believe in getting shit out the way fast, let a brotha know the situation between him and me: I’m not interested! Plain and simple.
    As we get closer to the truck, Cell steps out from the driver’s side and walks up to the both of us. Ee-ill …he looks different from the other night. I didn’t realize that he was so ugly up close in good light. His face looks fat and swollen, and his lips protrude more than I thought they did—especially the bottom one. He has a weak fade and his gear is totally off balance; he’s wearing black slacks, alligator shoes and a tight, bright yellow, muscle shirt. Muscle shirts are not sexy!
    His arms are large, but so is his gut. And to think, Sasha actually gave him some head and fucked him. “How you doing?” he asks. His voice
is loud and raspy, and he sounds retarded. He stares at me, making me feel uncomfortable.
    A few seconds later, his friend steps out from the back seat of the truck. He looks even worse. His eyes are big like a fucking bug’s, and he has an unattractive, scruffy goatee. His lips are chapped and his hair is braided in tiny twists, which make his head look deformed and weird. He has a shiny, gold tooth in the right corner of his mouth and a thick, gold rope chain hangs from around his neck. They’re so played out. He also has the nerve to be wearing a bright orange shirt with the collar flipped up, like he’s Elvis, and a pair of cream-colored khaki pants. I want to throw up!
    He introduces himself as Jimmy, and he extends his hand. I stand there and just look at him. I’m not shaking his hand. I don’t want to touch him. I look over at Sasha. She knows the deal. I want to strangle her for hooking me up with some horrendous looking shit like him. I don’t want to be seen anywhere in public with him.
    “What the fuck is that?” I whisper in her ear after pulling her to the side.
    “Jimmy…”
    “I’m not going out. Shit, I don’t even wanna be seen with him. That niggah is so ugly I’m about to throw up,” I warn.
    “C’mon, Shana, just chill. You ain’t gotta fuck him; just keep him company. He’s a nice guy.”
    Now, she knows better. As much as we be hanging out together and dissing ugly muthafuckas like him…is her mind warped? Cell and his friend look like something out of Swamp Thing.
    She pleads and begs, but I refuse to give in. Fuck a promise. He makes me shiver every time I turn around and look at him…he’s just so ugly.
Cell and Jimmy stand next to the truck, talking and waiting. Sasha goes as far as offering me fifty dollars. Then she offers me a hundred. I agree to the hundred, and she slips it to me on the low. I take a deep breath, exhale and walk back over to the truck.
    “Y’all ready?” Cell asks.
    “Yeah, we’re cool,” Sasha says.
    Jimmy—Mr. Too Ugly—tries to be a gentleman and opens the passenger door for me. I give him a nasty look and let myself in through the other door. Cell looks back at me and then over at Sasha. Jimmy enters the truck last and manages to smile at me. I sit as close to the door as I can.
    Cell suggests that we go out to this nightclub in Brooklyn called The Jackpot. It’s becoming one of the more popular night spots. He has friends there that will let us all in for free—no long lines, no waiting. I outright refuse to go; the Jackpot is a well-known spot. Everybody goes there, and I do mean everybody. Unfortunately, my refusal is overruled by a three-to-one vote.
    Mr. Too Ugly is trying to make conversation. He keeps glancing over at me and smiling. “You go to school?” he asks.