She had to have been five-two, petite, sweet caramel colored skin, short jet black hair like Halle Berry from 'Swordfish' but far more stunning than my girl Halle will ever be. She's my type of girl. This Beauty and her costumed friends were moving past me and fast. Her soft chocolaty eyes burned into mine. She looked away for a moment but quickly glared back and gave me one of the most gorgeous smiles I've ever seen. She gives me the sign but maybe not. Maybe it was just friendly smile. Maybe she is looking at someone else. Nope she's looking at me. Maybe she'll reject me. What if I shudder too much? What if I smell bad? Do I smell bad? Breathe Check. Nope.
Damn it she's past me and she was giving the signal. How did I know? She broke her neck just to keep that hypnotizing glare on me. Oh well, I was on the escalator and she was walking down the stairs anyway. Nothing I could have done about that situation but now. Now I will have another Beauty etched in the back of my head forever to torture me for all eternity letting me know what I truly am. What I've become as a man. The one thing that makes me different from my closes of boys and continues to afflict me. It has been with me since I was a teenager. I have an education, several career and options, and pretty much all my nuts and bolts upstairs. Overall I'd say I'm a success. I'd say for the most part I am easy to get along with. From what the older women tell me I am a handsome young man. Yet still this huge gorilla beating on my back.
Oh here I am rambling and haven't even introduced myself. Hi, they call me Jet and I am what my boy Jerry calls a 'faggot.' No, I'm not a 'faggot' in the ill-mannered classification that I like men or I'm extra flamboyant, annoying and or over dramatic. I am a 'faggot' in the sense I am a coward in his definition. I love women but problem is I can't muster up the courage to speak to them especially the ones I am attracted to like the one who I just let slip my grips just seconds ago. Sorry, had to clear that up quickly, definitions these days. I am shaking my head right now just for your information.
Now the first thing you should probably know about me other than the 'Faggotly-Coward' thing is Jet. They call me Jet as in Jet-Black, black as in Don Cheadle, black as in Barack Obama's lips, blacker than the slaves on the 'Amistad'. That's how most people define me. I really don't like it but you really can't control what people want to nick name you.
"Really? Stop being a faggot and go talk to that girl yo!" Jerry yelled at me knowing I was too scared. "I'm good, I'm aight... I'm coolin'" That's what I told him but that's a damn lie I've been in the desert for a year now. "Yeah whateva, I mean she a little too skinny for my liking but she could do for you."
Pardon the interruption again this looks like a good place to give a little info on Jerry. Jerry Foundland, he's my best friend. He's handsome, average height and husky. He's like the perfect balance between fat and muscular or how Jay like to put he's Michael Jai White if he ate too many donuts. He's also a hard working mall cop that aspires to be a professional wrestler. That being said he's sort of a play boy. Well he is a play boy just not your typical one. Most people who think of playboys think they are ladies men who have the ability to practically farm lot of beautiful women. Well he does just that they just happen to be Big. Beautiful. Women.
"Nah too late now. Maybe I'll run into her some other time in this hotel." I told him knowing damn well that wasnt going to happen in giant five star hotel packed full of anime convention nerds. "Whateva" Jerry replied as we reached the top of the Escalator and moved along with the crowd.
Now most of the time I could do was think of women. They were all over this convention. milf's, college girls, tall, short, thick, skinny, fat, Black, White, Latin, long hair , short hair, blonde hair, black hair, pink hair, purple hair and the bonnet things with the rave lights in them. Some of them dressing in regular street clothes and some of them were half naked, showing more skin than costume. Comic conventions, sexual paradise for the sexually involuntary-inactive.
"Yo Jet and Jay!" Mark yelled at us as he pushed through the crowds of much shorter costumed nerds blocking his path to us.
Promise this is the last interruption for now. This is Mark, The super pretty boy, he looks like he should be playing small forward in the NBA or wide out in he NFL but he's super pretty. He's almost too pretty. So pretty women literally throw invitations to their genatalia's at him. He's so pretty he's in denial about it like the second most popular girl in any high school. I'm sure you get the point by now.
"Yo ponytail!" I replied because that is his signature hair style. That slick back pressed permed pony tail. Almost like Snoop's but more unicorn and majestic. Sometimes he flips it and I swear I see fairy dust or glitter fall from it. "Yo look at all the ass. You guy's should clean up pretty well this weekend." Mark stated smiling enjoying the view. "Not if we hanging with you. They'll see you and wet themselves before we even get a chance Apache chief!" Also another one of Marks knick names for the fact he was half native half black. "Nah, It's easy just go to the rave get a number take her to the room, get some ass! Easy! It's that simple. "All this coming from a damn virgin!" That's right Mark's pretty ass is a Goddamned virgin! "Shut up!" "Yo where's Lisa?" I asked him trying to change the subject he knew nothing about.
"She's at a seminar down stairs. You guys ready for the rave?" Mark asked knowing I am dreading every minute of this comic book anime convention.
This is my life. The Single, Nerdy, Shy, and Black man.