By Morgan, Morgan@Funkywhiteboy.com
Date: 10 December 1998
You And Me
That summer at the beach I met someone. Not the tanned blond haired boys that I usually meet though. When my parents and I were unpacking our car to bring our luggage into the hotel a white car pulled up. The license plate read “RIDEIT” and I had to see the passengers. Two little black boys jumped out along with a big black man. (“You sure is pretty.”) His skin was the color of a mochachino, one of my favorite drinks at a local coffee house. He was so smooth that my eyes slid all over him and he caught me staring across the parking lot. We locked eyes and he wouldn’t let me go. His sleek face released an even sleeker smile and I couldn’t help but get caught up in the wholeness of him. My father dropped my duffel bag at my feet. I looked away from my big cup of coffee. Picking up my bag I walked away to the room. After walking down two sets of stairs to get back to the car I heard a “Hey!” and turned to see a tall, smooth skinned, beautiful black man. My! My tall, smooth skinned, beautiful black man. I smiled, waved, and walked away. That afternoon he walked his children in the ocean in front of the sand spot where I lay sunbathing. He was standing in the ocean in his big black shoes with his two little sons. They came up to his knees. He got out and walked past me and whispered, “You and Me.” He shot me questioning looks, like I was supposed to answer him. I laughed and he smiled and left. Hours later he was back, “So am I gonna see you tonight?” I shook my
head no, not being able to stop the stupid grin smearing itself across my face like cream cheese. “You can’t sneak out?” No no no. I found myself wishing that I could. “Too bad, you sure is pretty. See you later.”
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