November 10, 2009

I was surrounded by black women on the work shuttle bus this morning, and when Anita Baker’s “caught up in the rapture” started playing on the radio, the woman behind me started humming. Then another started humming. Another started snapping. And all of a sudden, very very suddenly, they were all singing in chorus. It was great. When we got off the bus, one of them concluded pertly, “CAUGHT UP!” and the driver grunted.

Last night, I was having drinks with a friend at Beauty Bar, and she brought her good buddy, who wore a gold chain and called himself a prettyboy. He said, “I can dance and I teach dance, but I know kung fu, too, and people don’t expect that cause I’m kind of a prettyboy. People just think I’m a prettyboy.”
I sipped my wine and thought, “nope.” But other than that, he was nice. I guess.


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