Lahdamercy

It's been a while since I've written, more on that later. Right now I'd rather tell a funny story.

Last night I ran out to get some dinner. It was about 9:30 and I had been working around the house all evening. The last thing I felt like was getting hit on. I stopped at a gas station and when I went to pay inside, I was let in by a tall lanky black man. I could tell he had long dreadlocks under a yellow scarf wrapped elaborately around his head. I already knew I was going to get a greeting from him; because of my own locs, I tend to attract this type of gentleman. Beyond that, I was wearing a shirt that Charmane had given me that had a fingerprint shaped like the continent of Africa. Not to mention, like most of my shirts, my boobs make it look pretty good.

So I get my Rasta greeting, which I still to this day do not how to respond back to, and figure that's that. When I get back outside, I turn from the pump and see this dude strolling up to my car the slowest I've ever seen a person stroll. It was actually kind of unnerving, but there were enough people around that if shit went crazy, I had already planned my screaming escape route. He comes up to me SUPER close and whispers, "I been searching." That was it. Nothing more. It was as if I had asked him, "What ya been up to?" and he gave me that concise answer back. So with a nervous smile plastered across my face, I responded, "oh?" "I been searching for a sister that understands my love of blackness. Of black culture. Of mother Africa and our struggle. Are you from Hartford? Why have I never seen you before?"

So I introduced myself, because I figure it's always better to be polite, and told him that I don't really know THAT much about Africa. "Well we all wish we could know more, sister, but we're trying!" (side note: I GET it. You see a young black woman with natural hair and an Africa t-shirt on and she looks like she is conscious as a motherfucker. She is constantly ready to spit out her hate for the white man and what they've done to Mother Africa and about chains [always chains] and "our people". And y'know, I'll do that sometimes. But sometimes, we natural girls just want to pump gas.) So he politely asked if I was involved with someone, to which I said yes, very much so (it's so great not to have to lie about that anymore) and he politely backed away...slowly. As slowly as he had come...and backwards...into the night like Benny Mardones.