Marie lived in the apartment next to mine on the third and top floor. She was a sweet, beautiful girl. About my age, 25 at the time. We exchanged hellos in the stairs and at the mailbox, but that was about it. I knew she wouldn't be interested in me, a skinny white boy. I knew this because I would see her boyfriend leaving her apartment late at night when I came home from second shift. He was a fit, well built, black guy, who was at least 6' 2". Well this one was...
Since I moved in about 6 months before, he was at least the 3rd boyfriend she had. Before him it was the short chubby black one. Before that the muscled up black jock. Seems her boyfriends needed two qualifications. To be black and to leave in the middle of the night. I hardly ever saw them there in the daytime. Everyone has different schedules but it did seem odd 3 different guys had the same schedule. Maybe she just didn't like overnight guests, or maybe they didn't want to stay. Whatever it was, by the 3rd fellow I began to wonder about those things. One summer evening I came home from work and as I made my way up the stairs I could hear her crying. I ran up the stairs as quickly as I could. She was sitting on the top stairs in her short nightgown balling her eyes out.
I asked her what was wrong and she said, "Oh nothing just another asshole."
I said, "Who me?"
She laughed a little and said, "No, my now ex boyfriend."
I tried to act surprised and sympathized, "Oh I'm so sorry."
Marie wiped away her tears and said, "That's ok. It happens every time."
I replied, "Well, it's his loss. You are beautiful."
She thanked me and said, "Got anything to drink?"
I said, "Sure! Let's get out of the steps and go on my deck and have a beer. I bet you could use one."
She got up and followed me inside.
We had a few beers and talked a bunch. Just small talk really. I tried to keep it light and cheer her up. I would have loved to take advantage of her needing a friend but I knew that all it could probably be was friends. I was good with that. I really didn't want to be asshole to her. Especially since she just got dumped by one. We said a friendly goodnight and she went home.
Over the next few weeks we talked some as we passed each other and even hung out on my deck with some beers once. But that was all. I was trying to play it cool. Waiting for a sign but I never really got one. I knew I was not her type. But I was starting to want to be. Then before long another black dude started coming around, leaving in the middle of the night. The first time I encountered him coming out of her place I was so disappointed. I should have known it was coming. Oh well I thought good luck Marie.
The next time I saw her in the laundry room I said, "Trying love again?"
She laughed, "Yea I'm a fool."
I asked, "Why?'
"He's married like all the rest. I'm always the side chick."
"Wow! Why would you do that to yourself?"
She smirked, "You must know..."