The Chronicles of the Black Pack – Pt. 1

For all those who haven’t read Part 1 – here’s the first section of my newest short story, “The Chronicles of the Black Pack.”  A little bit like an all-black male Sex in the City or Entourage.  Read and comment!

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We’ve all had awkward moments.  We’ve all had great moments.  We’ve all had rough patches and bright spots.  From saying to a chick that you love her when she’s not that into you, to getting that promotion you’ve been wanting for a long time, to the birth of your first child.  They make everybody feel different ways, from elation to consternation.  But we’ve all gotta get those feelings off of our chests.  You gotta express yourself.  Some people go to a shrink; that’s cool, but many people live off of their friends.  Their close buddies who are down for them and have their back.  So when these feelings climb up on you, sometimes you just need to go be with the fellas and talk a little shit, you know?

Here’s a fair description of one of my boys.  James was never the smoothest guy you meet, but he was so damn nice folks appreciated his presence.  How often do people meet a genuinely well-intentioned black man with a job?  And not some rinky-dink job at the supermarket, but one of those high-paying jobs?  Ain’t too many cool accountants, trust me – I went to college with a bunch of accountants-in-training, and most of them were anal bastards more concerned with crunching numbers than the real world.  Guy always looks sharp, always has a smile on his face, he’s so damn appreciative of his chances in the world that he beams happiness.  It’s a wonder he’s still single – sounds like a catch of the damn decade.  But every time James comes and tells the rest of us some story, it never ends well.  Sometimes he gets a goodnight kiss; he’s had some successful dating but by and large for the type of guy he is, he should be getting all kinds of attention.  We gotta work on his radar or somethin’, because this just isn’t fun to listen to.  We can always hear the doubt in his voice when he talks about himself in the social sense because of his lack of success with the ladies.  Here’s an example – the four of us met up for lunch last Saturday at this spot in Little Five Points as it just happened to be when all of us were in town.  A couple of beers later, we were shooting the shit like we used to in college when James said he wanted to tell us about his date.  He’s only 22, so we expect something reminiscent of our good ol’ days.

“Yeah, I set everything up to the 9’s.  Big, fancy restaurant that had a great menu, music was on point – the works.  She was lookin’ just delicious, and my jaw damn near dropped when she came to the car when I picked her up.  She asked if it was cool if she got the lobster, I told her she can have any crustacean she wants.”  That was James, alright – going all out on the first date without expecting more than maybe a second date.  He really was just trying to have an enjoyable experience out.  “So the wine starts flowing, and we both loosened up and got to talking.  She asked me about my career – I tell her that I love being an accountant but it’s boring as hell to talk about, like watching the leaves fall off the trees or something.  I ask her about her job, she says she’s a waitress slash model slash actress slash singer slash songwriter, one of those entertainment types.  I can tell right away she’s got that fast paced lifestyle, and I’m not in that kind of life but it’s whatever, you know?  So she says to me a little later that she’s not sure if I can handle her lifestyle – that I’m a straight-laced, family-type, good guy.  She thought I wanted a serious commitment.  Mind you, this is date one, but ok.  I decided I’d play with her head, and told her I ain’t say a thing about commitment. “

We all looked at each other like, “This nigga is putting 100 on 10 right now – no way he said any of this.  Let’s see what kind of story he comes up with.”  James doesn’t have that much bravado, that much boldness to bark up that tree.

“She didn’t see it coming, and was saying how she thought I was gonna start talking about wanting kids or some shit.  I looked dead at her and said, ‘Fuck them crumbssnatchers, it’s not my time for that and I’m tryin’ to have a little fun.”  Now we all really knew James was lying – he’s been looking for Miss Right and would love to settle down and have a family.  This story was becoming just that, a story.  I guess he was tired of striking out and wanted to try to get some sort of success, if this was indeed true.  “Katrina didn’t see any of this coming, I’d flipped the script on her ass somethin’ special.  To finish the night, I glanced at her and told her there’s a spot in my bed with her name on it and don’t make it keep waiting.”

The smile on his face after he said that line was real.  It wasn’t that goofy, “haha I’m joking” smile, he really might have done this.  James Turner may have popped off a one night stand.  The looks on the rest of ours faces was straight bewilderment.  The Midwestern transplant to Atlanta became Andre – the Miami native who was the king of one nighters.  All I could say was, “Damn man!  All this time we thought your balls hadn’t dropped!”  James just looked around at our stunned faces (this was the first time he’d ever done something like this and we’ve known him for 5 years), and said, “I tried something new my nig, and it worked out.  I can’t believe I did, but it paid off ‘cause Katrina put it on me.  She messed up my mattress!”

Robert piped up, tired of hearing what he thought was James’ tall tale.  “Quit talking all that bullshit, we all know you didn’t do any of that.  When she called you on it, you probably just said ‘Yeah, but I can be spontaneous!’  Face it, you do the mushy stuff.  That chick had you pegged with a quickness.”  Robert’s skepticism is always tangible, which is why he’s going to be one hell of a defense attorney.  But he knew how to tease James like a schoolyard bully.  “I wonder how fast you came – right before she kissed you or right before she touched your dick.”  We all laughed, disrupting some of the “polite” conversations that the other people at the restaurant might have been having.  Those annoyed patrons turned around to see four black men enjoying themselves without being drunk or doing something illegal – a shocking sight indeed.

“I’ll have you know she came before me, thank you very much,” James uttered.  Robert retorted, “Came like came to your bed?  ‘Cause I know you didn’t make it work; you probably messed up your pants on the way home.”  These two continued their back and forth, much to me and Andre’s enjoyment, and I was reminded of our college years.  We were much, much worse back then.