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Black Girl Magic photo

Movie audiences that laugh at everything make me leave my seat.

The counterfeit authenticity shared and expressed too loudly drives my puke through a wall.

Ashley, a black friend, sits by the bar, looking fine.

Once rail thin with fucked up teeth, she worked with me at a video store. She’s since filled out her hips, ass, and tits.

We schmooze about movies, shitty audiences, and something else I barely register. I’m too distracted by her hourglass to stay awake.

We start talking about her hair, which look like dreads, but are in fact thick braids.

-I don't get black people hair I tease. 

She’s quick to smile.

She talks about the unique qualities of African hair and the way it grows and something about arid versus humid climates kinky this kinky that blah blah blah. I’m hard.

-Elaborate on what kinky means.

-It’s a type of curl but it’s more of a Z shape than a curl.

-Gotcha. So then what’s nappy mean?

-That’s like the more offensive way of saying kinky she says smiling.

I raise my eyebrows and smile while she goes on.

-Yeah don’t go around calling black people’s hair nappy.


Some too tall white chick walks to us. Cute in a just got off work so I’m upset kind of way. 

-Am I mean? she asks.

No but rude for cunting in on my conversation.

-No way Ashley reassures. Who said you’re mean?

-The guys in the back called me mean. I’m not mean. I’m a bitch, but I’m not mean. 

Please fuck off and die.

They go on like this for a few more minutes, then Ashley asks Bitch

-Do you love my hair? Took 3 hours to do.

-I love it. Kyle, don’t you just love her hair? 

How does this bitch know my name?

-Too nappy I almost shout.

To Bitch’s horror Ashley is giggling.

Ashley apologizes for me and tells Bitch that we’ve known each other for years and it’s all good.

There’s something so sexy about a hot girl apologizing for my behavior. She wouldn’t if she wasn’t a little attracted to me, I’m convinced.

I consider dropping a hard r to see if she’ll apologize for that too, but I decide against it.

Bitch finally leaves, and Ashley talks about these guys she’s seeing and how she’s got a steady rotation of cock she flips through when she’s bored, like a DVD bargain bin filled with her favorite dicks.

I say how being recently single I’ve yet to find my rotation. No wheel to spin with a bright flashing arrow.

She thinks I’m bluffing and reassures I’d make a great Sugar Daddy for someone.

-I’m too young to be anyone’s daddy I say. Every bitch is secretly older than me.

Ashley compliments me on my weight loss, and I compliment her weight gain. She punches a seductive smile and bats her eyes, while caressing her body’s new shape.

I’m borderline out my seat ready to lunge.

People nervously laugh their way out the movie I already left. As we’re saying goodbye she leans in for a hug, and she gently digs the tips of her fingers into my back muscles, so I fondle her hips.

-Put me in the rotation I tell her patchouli scented neck.

She laughs flatteringly and smiles like she just can’t help herself. Her skin is Wesley Snipes black, but I think she’s blushing.

She says no and I’m a little pissed but I play it off as a joke. 

It’s alright. It’s not but it will be. 

We wave goodbye and I get into my car.

Driving home I remove my glasses to blur the world, a golden arches planet full of chewed LED potato light.

I put my glasses on to sharply focus why again I’m sleeping alone tonight.