man on the side

One of my homeboys and I decided to go out the other night. We had a ball in the heart of Adamsville — the flat lands. I will not name the edifice but let’s just say that it starts with the initials JR. Any who, while I was there I noticed that everyone was super-friendly. Especially the women.

After we had been formally introduced to everyone that keeps the club running smoothly — especially the lady security guard with the Glock pistol on her side, we assumed seats near the deejay booth. Eventfully, after a few more hand shakes, and obvious amiable interactions, a woman approached us. My homeboy always introduces me, out of courtesy, to all of the women in the place, but I had my eye on the security person.

She was wearing practically nothing, which actually showcased more of what she was trying to conceal. All of us, including my friend cordially conversed, so when he decided to excuse himself from the conversation, Ms. Security and I continued talking. I gave her my business card when she inquired about my profession. I was really preoccupied with the deejay and the infectious music he was playing, as well as the perfectly mixed Absolut and tonic the security lady had bought for me.

When my friend came back, he whispered in my ear that we were heading to another spot. I informed my newfound lady friend of my departure while she looked me up and down and proceeded to write her number down. She said, “take my number [and] give me a call, I have a man but you can be my man on the side.”

My first thought was — Damn! So I told her that I couldn’t afford the things required to hold the title of being her man. She just looked at me and smiled. I could only wonder if this is what relationships have been reduced to. Simply a game you play with men as pawns. I mean, do women disrespect and devalue solid relationships? Naw, I refuse to believe that. It must have been the atmosphere or perhaps the drinks.