nAUGHTy Girl Chronicles. Vol 5.
Diary entries of a Black girl navigating love, lust, and the aughts in D.C.
[Song on her childhood boombox radio as she journals]
December 2005
Dear Diary,
Good ol’ home for the holidays. This is the first Christmas holiday as a fully fledged adult working woman, and it’s been fun commiserating with all my high school friends who are back home too, especially [redacted]. I mean, I’ve loved him since I laid my eyes on him when I joined the school newspaper as a writer in 9th grade, and he was a contributor too. I just couldn’t wait to have some one-on-one time.
After we graduated from college, we began to get a little closer (a.k.a. making out). To be honest, I was so excited at the possibility of falling in love with one of my best friends. Well, I remember calling him one day, soon after we had begun sharing more intimate moments, and I wanted to really see him again. He expressed to me he was “broke” and couldn’t take me anywhere nice. So, in an attempt to be accommodating and to find a way to see him again, I decided that a cute lunch date at his house would suffice. I could cook something cheap, like pasta, with a side salad, and we could just relax and talk at his house. Besides, I was a friend from way back that he didn’t need to impress. He liked that idea and actually offered to buy the necessary groceries for the meal, which would include the following:
spaghetti pasta
ground turkey (tryna be healthy, ha!)
onion
lettuce
tomato
Yep. That’s it. He already had olive oil, spaghetti sauce, salad dressing, and any spice that I would need to make the meal. So, I just knew that we would meet in two days. I couldn’t wait!
The following day, I called him to confirm what time we would be meeting, and the following conversation transpired:
“Hello,” he answered.
“Hey there! How are you?”
“I’m pretty good. How are you?”
“I’m doing alright. I just wanted to call and find out what time you wanted to meet tomorrow,” I said, trying to suppress the excitement in my voice to keep it cool as if I didn’t really give a fuck.
“Didn’t you get my text message earlier?”
“No. Why?”
“Oh. Well, we are going to have to make it for Thursday instead of tomorrow.”
“Oh, really? Um, I think I can do that, but why can’t we meet tomorrow?”
“Aw, man. Well, my Mom came home today and dropped a bomb on me, man.”
“What happened?” I asked with concern.
“Well, she said that she’s not going to the grocery store today. She’s going tomorrow instead. So, we are going to have to wait ‘til Thursday.”
I paused and tried to understand what he was saying. “Um. Wait. I don’t get it. Why can’t you go to the grocery store by yourself?”
“Because if I go with my Mom, the food will be FREE!” he said with genuine elation.
Yes. That was the conversation. I couldn’t believe that he had the gall and audacity to tell me that. No embarrassment, no shame, no hemming and hawing, as Mom would say. In my mind, I thought, are you telling me that you couldn’t even buy a few items at the grocery store that would have been the equivalent of maybe $8? Damn! You a broke ass bitch!
I still went over to his momma’s house on Thursday. Ha! But his broke ass made my pussy dry up, so that holiday make-out session stayed a fantasy.