"Hey brotherman; when you gonna get it together and get yourself a lady?"
"Excuse me?"
"Trim, you know what that is, right? You up over here playing with some cameras while there's a whole world out there waiting. All those girls man, all that trim."
This was my cousin Jaquan and in case you hadn't guessed, he's quite the lady magnet. Seriously without sarcasm, this meathead was what you'd call a pretty boy looking like the lost brother of Kevin Garnett at about six five, physically at his peak with a sculpted physique. At thirty two years of age he had yet to work a nine to five living a privileged existence off my physician aunt's dime. His income was further supplemented by a plethora of sugar mammas of various ages.
"You can have my cut of the ladies, Jaquan." I was spending a weekend at my aunt's home while my mother and her running buddies were off to Atlantic City. Dad was currently on a road trip with Ilene and her delightful daughter, Erica Walton. I kind of wished I was there to see what mischief she'd get into.
"Can't stay a cherry forever; you gotta get out there and get in the game. How the ladies supposed to know you're around if you don't let them know?"
"I don't know Jaquan; how do-I-let them know?" I was presently checking the very successful clips of Tressie posted on that website in brief heavy edits.
I'd managed a few hundred bucks despite the doubled amount. Porsha had also been texting up a storm recently, but I told her to call me back when she paid my cousin the money she owed. From what I knew of her trifling ways, that was pretty much a wrap.
"Take me for example; I'm always looking to expand my horizons; you know keeping my options open. Seeing everything the world has to offer before settling down because it's the only way to be sure. You gotta get all the honey's you can before atrophy sets in, little brother." Keep in mind he was giving me this vital life's advice while plucking his eyebrows in the hallway mirror.
"Atrophy?" Jaquan stopped fidgeting with his eyebrows giving me a disparaging look.
"Use it or lose it, baby boy." Keep also in mind, this thirtysomething, select guy also threw a literal temper tantrum on the living room floor because his long suffering mother brought the wrong colored Jordan's. In his thirties, mind you boys and girls.
"Oh, okay."
"You gotta know you speed; know your lane. You see this girl I'm going out with today is this tight, little number with a juicy apple name Akemi. She goes to university downtown and we're going to take in some African artifacts at the museum of Natural History today." I raised an eyebrow as he ran a horse brush over his bald pate several times in obsessive succession.
"What?"
"You ain't gonna go look at no fucking African Artifacts; you just gone fuck that girl!!" Jaquan turned glaring at me with his best Samuel Jackson face, before snickering into his fist.
"Man, you too damn real, cuz." I started laughing at the stupid look on his face.
Both of were laughing for a few minutes as he resumed primping for his date going so far as to conduct gentlemanly check of his body odor by sniffing his pits. I was gonna spend my afternoon kicking back watching some television and working on my laptop. I wanted to get another girl but hadn't found any viable candidates. My cousin's house had an odd floor plan with the main entrance of the home situated on the side of the house. A short stairwell led up to the open living room and adjacent dining room with the bedrooms and kitchen just beyond that.
Everything in the barbell shaped floor plan seemed to happen right in the center as I sat on a couch directly on top of the stairs. This gave me a direct view of the front door, which was presently open, but the steel barred security screen door was securely locked. I was hoping for a glimpse of Akemi because Jaquan had never been seen with an ugly girl. Every last one of his women were something to write home about destined for the covers of magazines or Instagram fame. The house phone started ringing interrupting my musings about the appearance of his latest conquest.
"Get that shit for me, brother."
"Alright." I walked across the dining to the kitchen, which was for some odd reason, dilapidated looking filled with cluttered foodstuffs across all the countertops.
My aunt sometimes grew so weary of Jaquan so she would cat out across town in her condo and send supplies in bulk via the internet. True fact: Sometimes her near-do-well son would act like an insufferable ass just to get the house to himself. The rotary house phone hung high on the wall just inside the kitchen entrance next to the fridge.
"Hello." I immediately knew something was wrong because all I could hear was breathing on the phone.
"Uhm, hello?" Still breathing.
"Hey man, somebody playing on the phone." His ears pricked up as he put a finger to his lips cautiously approaching me, taking the receiver. He listened for a few seconds before shoving the phone into my chest motioning frantically for me to hang up. I put the receiver to my ear one last time.
"HELL-LOOOOO!!" Somebody hung up on the other end so hard that my ear was ringing.
"Did she say anything?" Jaquan looked gravely worried.
"She; you know who that was?"
We were suddenly interrupted by the doorbell as my cousin nearly jumped out of his skin motioning for me to go see who was there. There was this very dark, slender beauty at the door wearing a brightly colored dashiki and some of the tightest and tiniest jean shorts I'd ever seen. Those things looked like jean print panties as she knocked on the door, irritated at my obvious gawking.
"Who is it?" Jaquan whispered in almost falsetto tone, half hiding in the kitchen doorway.
"Some dark skinned sister, she fine as fuck too."
"AW MAN, THAT'S AKEMI LITTLE BROTHER!!" Life suddenly rushed back into his body literally and figuratively as he rushed to the door letting the woman inside who was still eyeballing me angrily.
"Why you don't open the door? DON'T YOU SEE-MY FACE?!!" I put my hands up in front of my body like she had a weapon.
The quick, terse manner in which she spoke coupled with a sharp accent identified her as a genuine woman of the motherland. Jaquan quickly took control of the situation wrapping an arm around her shoulder flashing a million dollar smile.
"Don't mind him; that's my little cousin, we told him not to open that door unless we say because they be up on that home invasion tip around here!" She didn't look convinced.
"HEY, I LOOK LIKE THIEF-TO YOU?!!" Jaquan facepalmed as I shrugged unwilling to answer. I'd had some dealings with people from the ancestral homeland before and arguing with them was like arguing with someone from Brooklyn. You ain't winning shit.
"Come on baby, leave him alone; he sorry."
