“I knew it was you.”

I turned around and saw the man that I used to work with.

I was at our local Ribfest contemplating whether it was uncouth to put a large napkin under my chin or place it on my lap before I devoured a very large plate of succulent ribs and a piece of cornbread.

Don’t worry Possums, I didn’t drink it with soda.

I chose water.

Possums, this was the man I always thought would give me children!

The man whom I hung off every word about his boring parents and life back home in Sweden.

The man whose eyes were large cesspools of blue orbs of dancing light rays.

The man who made me write to the world such foolishness as “[his] eyes were large cesspools of blue orbs of dancing light rays”!

The man whom I would have probably made a very strong effort of placing my legs in a perfect 45 degree angle while pleasuring him.

The man where I felt that since I loved IKEA more than anything, I was THIS CLOSE to happiness.

Mmmn…So fine!

“Well, hello you! How did you know it was me?” I asked.

“I could tell you from behind anywhere! You are the only Black girl who has hair like Barbie!”

Well!

Well!

Well… I guess!

Possums, I went,  sat my big Barbie-ass down and placed stuck a long piece of rib in my mouth.

I know.

I know.

It is impolite to speak with food in your mouth when you are around guests. But, I think that it is better sometimes not to say anything at all.

I don’t know what I saw in the Jigga anyways.

His cesspools of blues eyes weren’t all THAT special.

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