Keeping Up with the Joneses

The Spring season is transitioning and so is my wardrobe. I spent most of the day putting all of my winter clothes in the back of my closet and bringing spring and summer apparel to the front. What was even more irritating was organizing my shoes. I have a serious shoe addiction-- I love a nice looking shoe. They don't even have to be expensive shoes (I have quite a few of those also), but I also love a lot of Underground brands that really don't get shine the way they should. I find a lot of those online. While navigating through my closet I found many clothes with tags in tact. Things I have bought while out shopping with others that I may not have even wanted. When I told you I had an addictive personality I wasn't playing. I love options so in my mind I can never have too many clothes, but my closet it begging to breathe a bit and so you have it: I'm downsizing! You know how we hold on to things thinking either they will come back in style or that you will actually rock them again someday like in your prime (kind of like a stale relationship). Well I have the tendency to keep a lot of things a very long time, but then I'm always adding new things so it can be a bit much. I finished my early afternoon of cleaning and had about 4-5 bags of clothes I have to do away with. The politically correct thing to do would be to take them to the Salvation Army, but I ended up just throwing them away. I know... I know (next time I promise). Keegan and I were supposed to be having a late brunch, but he never called and I wasn't crazy about going so I didn't text or call him either. Instead, I decided to go clean my car and get a haircut (probably every black man in America does this on Saturday). Usually I am rocking a curly fro that is lined to perfection, but lately I have kept my hair really low because I just can't do the maintenance right now. My life is pretty hectic and less is definitely best. Before I headed out I decided to knock on Symone's door and see what she had planned for today. After the third knock I turned to walk away and then the door opened and I turned around. To my surprise there was Maine; shirtless and looking good enough to devour! I kept my composure and was about to ask for Symone, but then she slithered from behind him and invited me in. I insisted it could wait, but she grabbed my hand and led me in. They were watching a movie, and I could smell the lingering scent of sex. "That bitch", I thought to myself. I could also smell Maine's cologne and made it in an instant-- Unforgivable by Sean John. Maine picked up his shirt off the floor and pulled it over his head; I couldn't help checking him out and I knew Symone was watching me lick my lips. "Nik, let me borrow you for a minute." Symone and I made our way to her bedroom and I sat at her vanity while she slipped out of her robe to reveal her hookers-r-us ensemble. I had to admit Symone was holding much better than I would have imagined-- big titties, flat stomach, tiny waist and phat ass. "It took a bit of work, but I finally reeled him in." She began to laugh and then she gestured by spreading her two index fingers in opposite directions. It looked to be around 9-10 inches she had insinuated. "I will tell you all about it tomorrow, but we are about to drink some wine and probably go for round two! I just wanted to let you know Terrence definitely doesn't play for your team." "So Maine wasn't his name after all?" "Who's name is Maine?" 'Terrence' had startled me as he entered the room, "Trying to steal her from me already?", he said. "No we were just discussing a mutual friend. I'm on my way to get cut up and wash my whip so I will catch you guys later." Symone took off toward the door grabbing her robe on the way. I noticed there had been no tension when Maine entered the room and Symone was barely dressed. Either he's just not that into her or she had spilled my T (told him I was gay). I really didn't care either way. I followed Symone and I could feel Maine staring at me and I wanted very badly to turn around, but I didn't. Symone hugged me, giggled and whispered something clever in my ear. I had to give it to her. Symone was definitely a stand-up bitch. I mean unlike me renting my condo from my mother; Symone actually bought hers. She has a Boutique on Woodward Avenue called "Smooches" that is doing quite well. In fact, she informed me a couple of weeks ago she was thinking of opening another. Symone had always put her education and business before the men in her life and her sexcapades were her way of making up for lost time. At 30 years old she was doing quite well; had no interest in marriage or children; so I suppose a good fuck every now and then was right up her alley. I never did make it to get my car cleaned. The weather turned bad once I left the barbershop. In an E. Lynn Harris book my barber would be 6'3 with a face and body to die for, but in my reality my barber was about 40 with a full grill, thick southern accent, and not attractive in the least. The deal was he was probably the baddest dude I'd ever met with a pair of clippers or shears; and for that he had my respect. I ended up walking the mall checking out the guys and the fashions. I didn't have it in mind to buy anything, but I saw a nice hat and had to have it. I was walking past ManAlive when I was stopped in my tracks. There was Santos laughing and chatting with Him. Him, being Brandon --the bitch he cheated on me with for months who was supposed to be my friend. It had been two years and I don't know if I was bothered by the fact that they were still together or that I still had feelings for Santos-- possibly both. They didn't notice me and I slipped into a store until they passed. I left in the opposite direction. I decided to just leave the mall, "This town is too fucking small", I uttered to myself. Just as I was about to get into my car I heard my phone ringing. I picked up without looking at the caller-id determined to get out of there as fast as I could. "You little asshole you wasn't even gonna call a nigga were you?", Keegan expressed in his sarcastic tone. I laughed and I needed to in that moment. "Come over and chill with us at Balboa." "Sure, I'm not too far away." Once I got to Balboa the whole gang was there. Myself, Keegan, Luxe, and Maverick. They were all drinking Long Island Iced Tea. After our usual greeting I turned to the bartender and asked for one myself when I lost my breath (second time today). He was beautiful. Kind of like one of those guys you see in the movies. He said something, but I didn't hear him so I simply smiled. "He asked will that be all nigga", chimed Maverick. I didn't know it then, but Maverick could sense the sexual tension between us. Maverick has never liked any guy I have ever talked to -- ever. He's always protecting me and I won't lie I do like it. This bartender was definately not the usual bartender Tricky-Ricky. Another gorgeous guy, but he has been fucked by just about every gay/bi/curious nigga in Detroit; on top of that he was once a low-budget porn star. Luxe whispered in my ear, "I had my eye on him, but since I have Roberto coming over tonight I'm going to let you have him", we both giggled. "What so funny? We can't get it on the jokes?", Keegan asked. "It was an inside thing; thats all", Luxe confirmed. 'The Bartender' was actually Trey Livingston. He was a Wayne State University graduate that was killing time as a bartender waiting on news from his law school applications. He chatted with me in between serving other patrons and seemed like a really nice person. Mind you; my guard is still up and I refused to believe anyone is what they seem to be anymore. For some reason my guard slipped the more I sipped and I allowed Trey to get my phone number; must have been the Long Island or that smile (probably both). I had to goto the restroom and when I stood up I realized that I was a bit tipsy. Maverick followed me to the bathroom. "I figured that much. I knew he was your type when I saw him. Pretty boy with muscles and swag. Just take it easy this time I don't want to have to dust his ass like I did that bitch-made Santos." "I just met him calm down", I said as I was pissing at my urinal. "Well I just had to get that off my chest. Now lets get out of here before people start to talk", Maverick laughed. I washed my hands and checked myself out in the mirror. I was looking good tonight and I wasn't even dressed for the club. I ended up really fucked up and although it was 7pm when we arrived we didn't leave until 1am. Trey's shift was over and he had left and just my luck he probably wouldn't call anyway. I'm not exactly the flyest dude in the club and I'm sure he's just looking for sex anyhow. We all ended up crashing at Keegan's. We sobered up and watched a marathon of "Keeping Up with the Kardashians" until we fell asleep. I hadn't even thought about Santos and Him since I got that call from Keegan. I think its amazing how your friends can bring you through some things without even trying. The Lord knows I needed some escapism and I thank him kindly for that opportunity. Maverick always says the best way to get over an old jones is to get under a new one. Hmmm....