Читать книгу Play The Game - Doug Dixon - Страница 17

The temperature dropped to about thirty-five degrees. I lit my fireplace as I sat in front of the TV sipping herbal tea. Minutes later my cell phone rang.

“Hey,” the voice said. It was Darryl. “How are you?” he asked.

“I’m fine, just relaxing after a long day. What about you?”

“I’m sitting in the hotel just finishing up some work for my presentation tomorrow.”

“Oh, where are you?” I asked.

“I just arrived in Memphis from Nashville. I’m driving back to Atlanta on Friday.”

“Wow, that’s a lot of traveling. So what’s the weather like in Memphis?”

“About fifty-four degrees and raining. I just wish I was at home in my own bed.”

“I know, there’s nothing like home. It’s cold nights like this that make you appreciate that.”

“Yeah, here I am, lying on a bed that strangers lie on every night. God knows what’s on it.”

I laughed. “Oh, poor baby. I’m chilling in front of my fireplace sipping some tea.”

“See there?” he replied, laughing. “You had to go there…So how was your day, by the way?”

“Ugh, I don’t even want to begin to talk about my day. Let’s say I earned my money as a teacher, as little as it is.” I replied.

“That tough, huh?” he said.

“Yeah,”

There was silence.

“Are we still on for Saturday?” he asked.

“Yeah,”

“Still at three o’clock, huh?”

“Yep.” I sipped my tea.

He laughed.

“Are you laughing at me, Darryl?”

“No, I’m just tripping. I feel like a high-school kid getting ready for his first date.”

“A high-school kid?” I was confused by his comment.

“Well, yeah. Not because of the time we’re meeting. I’m not trippin’ about that. I think you’re different, that’s all. You’re pleasant to talk to, you have a good sense of humor, and you have standards. Most women aren’t like that. For that reason alone, I’m just anxious to get to know more about you.”

“I don’t know about all that,” I replied.

“No, I’m just saying—”

“Well, Darryl, thank you for the compliment,” I interrupted. “I’m still not going to change my mind about the time,” I replied, giggling.

He laughed along with me.

Several minutes later, we ended our conversation for the night. I was really feeling him—the things he said were so comforting. Not one time did he try to slip in a perverted line or bring up materialistic things. He was sort of laid-back and smooth.

I got up to shower before bed. When I looked in the mirror, I realized that I had to do something about my hair before my date with Darryl. I knew Tangie and Stephanie normally got their hair done every Saturday at a friend’s salon. Usually I went to Supercuts in the mall for a trim, but you had to make an appointment at least a week in advance.

Before going to bed, I called Stephanie to ask abouth her hair appointment for Saturday. After about four rings and no answer, I hung up and called Tangie, who answered the phone like she was in the middle of some intense fucking.

“Yeah,” she answered, breathing heavily.

“Damn, girl. What’s going on at your place? Is Todd over there?”

“Uh-uh, just me. What’s up?”

“Sorry to call so late, but are you and Stephanie getting your hair done this Saturday?”

“Yeah.”

“Good—I need my hair done for my date with Darryl. Do you think you can get your girl to squeeze me in?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure she can,” Tangie replied in a rush.

“Great—so what time—”

“Just be at Stephanie’s house around eight A.M.,” she interrupted before hanging up.

What the hell was that all about? I thought. That was typical Tangie, doing God knows what with God knows who.

On Saturday I arrived at Stephanie’s house right at seven-thirty. This was the normal meeting place since Stephanie lived closest to the salon.

I walked through the living room, heading toward the den. I could hear the TV as I got closer. When I turned the corner, I saw Stephanie sitting on the couch putting clothes on Brandon.

“Hey, girl,” I said as I walked toward her.

She looked up. “Hey.”

I sat down closest to Brandon. “Where’s Tangie?”

“She just called. She should be pulling up any minute.”

“Good—I’m ready to do something with this hair,” I said, running through it with my fingers.

“What? Girl, please. You got that straight, white-girl hair. All you have to do is just wash and trim the split ends, Ms. Supercuts,” she teased.

I giggled. “No, I don’t. I need to do more than that.”

“Look at my hair,” Stephanie said, rubbing across her head. I need a serious perm.”

“I think I need one, too,” I joked.

“Whatever, Cajun girl,” Stephanie replied, laughing.

Minutes later, Tangie appeared, wearing a baseball cap. “Hey, are you two ready to get this thing started?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “What’s with the ball cap?”

“Girl, I just woke up and got dressed. I didn’t even touch my hair. Why bother when I’m about to get it hooked up, anyway? I’m going to get me some braids so I won’t have to keep dealing with my hair in the morning. Just wake up, shake them out, and head to work.”

We all started toward the front door.

“Hey, I’ll meet you two in the car. I want to make sure Curtis has everything for Brandon.” Stephanie said.

Tangie and I walked outside, passing Curtis and a group of guys in the front yard.

“You guys about to leave?” Curtis asked.

“Yeah, as soon as your girl comes out,” I replied.

Curtis looked in the direction of the front door before walking toward it, going inside as Tangie and I got in my car. Minutes later, Stephanie came outside and got in the backseat with a slight frown on her face.

“Girl, you okay?” Tangie asked.

Stephanie took a deep breath and turned toward Tangie. “Girl, sometimes that damn Curtis can be a pain in my fucking ass. My horoscope said some tempers would flare today and it’s starting early.”

“Girl, you still reading that horoscope shit every day?” Tangie said.

“You didn’t think it was shit when it helped you out with your divorce,” Stephanie replied.

“I didn’t need a horoscope to tell me my marriage was in chaos. That bastard showed his true colors way before you tried to get me to listen to that horoscope bullshit.”

I laughed out loud.

“What’s Curtis tripping about now?” I asked.

“He got all upset ’cause I asked him to go to the store and pick up some things for Brandon. All he wants to do is hang out with those thugs all day.”

Tangie smirked and turned her head. I kept my eyes focused on the road.

“He can at least give up five minutes of being around them to take care of his son,” Stephanie continued.

There was silence as we continued on. I looked over at Tangie who was biting down on her lip.

“Let me call him and make sure—”

“Stephanie!” Tangie shouted. “I’m not trying to hear that shit, okay? Don’t let that petty shit ruin your day. Better yet, our day, over this bullshit. Brandon will be okay. You have your way of taking care of him and Curtis has his way. What you need to be worried about is getting that shit on your head done, more than anything else.”

I laughed, caught off guard by her comment.

Stephanie dropped her head for a moment before looking up with a slight smile on her face. “You’re right, girl. You’re absolutely right.”

“Now turn the radio up, Mya, and let’s kick this day off right,” Tangie continued.

When we got to the hair salon, we opened the door to see torn-up heads everywhere. It’s a good thing men don’t come here and try to pick up women. Seeing this would make the entire gay population in Atlanta skyrocket.

I had been to this salon a few times but had never had my hair done here. The owner’s name is Peaches. She is a childhood friend of Tangie and Stephanie who started out doing their hair from her bedroom when they were in high school and developed enough clients to open her own salon. Peaches’s salon was unlike any that I’d ever encountered before. We have ghetto salons in New Orleans but this salon took the cake. It was mostly filled with women there to air their dirty laundry.

Tangie had called Mary Butler, who’d agreed to fit me into her schedule. I had met her before when I was in the salon earlier that month and was confident that she would do a good job on my hair.

As we entered the salon, I saw Mary standing by her chair, organizing her work area. Mary is a big-boned sista who stands about five feet tall. She wore these worn-down slippers with a pair of white socks and dragged her feet when she walked. As Tangie and Stephanie greeted their other friends, I walked over to Mary.

“Hey, Mary. What’s up, girl?”

Mary looked up and saw me through the mirror and turned around with a slight smile.

“Nothing. Trying to make some money, that’s all.”

“I appreciate you seeing me on such short notice.”

“Girl, that ain’t nothing. My next appointment is not until ten o’clock, anyway. Have a seat.” She cleared off her salon chair.

I took my jacket off and placed it on the coat hanger next to Mary’s workstation and took a seat.

“How you want your hair did?” she asked.

“I think a wash, condition, and maybe trim the split ends. Don’t cut too much off, just the uneven ends,” I replied.

“Yeah, that’s all you really need ’cause your hair texture is too straight to get a perm,” she replied, combing through my hair. “Let’s wash and condition.”

Mary escorted me to the station a few chairs down from hers where I sat back and she began washing my hair.

“You a schoolteacher with Tangie and ’em, huh?”

“Yep, dealing with bad-ass kids five days a week,” I replied.

Mary laughed. “I thought about teaching school, but preferred doing hair instead,” she continued, making small talk as she put the conditioner in my hair.

“Let this set for about twenty minutes and I’ll be back to trim the ends before putting you under the dryer.”

I nodded and looked over at Peaches, who had just finished with a customer.

“Who’s next, you or Tangie?” Peaches said, looking at Stephanie.

Stephanie looked over at Tangie. “You can go first. I’m going to call Curtis to make sure he gets Brandon his things from the store.”

“Oh, okay.” Tangie got up and walked toward the salon chair. When she pulled off her ball cap, Peaches frowned. “Damn, girl. When was the last time I gave you a perm?”

“Girl, I don’t know. I had to use hair grease and water just to keep it down all week,” Tangie replied.

“Umph,” Peaches sounded. “C’mon and sit down so we can get started on this head.”

Stephanie dialed Curtis and apparently got his voice mail or something, because she hung up the phone in disgust without saying a word and sat back in her chair, frowning.

“You okay over there?” Tangie asked, seeing Stephanie’s face.

“Hell, no. Now he’s not answering the phone. Bastard.”

Peaches looked up at Stephanie as she combed through Tangie’s hair. “What’s the matter? Your man tripping?”

“Girl, that ain’t—”

“Men ain’t shit sometime,” a voice interrupted Stephanie.

“Amen to that,” Peaches replied as she turned toward this skinny sista standing near the door.

“I got a court case pending now because of my ex,” she continued.

“Are you serious? What happened?” Peaches asked.

“Girl, I had a feeling he was cheating on me but could never prove it. Then one night I followed him and caught his ass cheating with the fucking cleaning lady at his job,” the girl continued.

“Whaaat?” someone shouted.

“What did you do?” Peaches asked.

“Shit, what any other nigga would do. I kicked that bitch ass. Then threw his shit out my fucking house.”

Everyone laughed.

“You know how you can find out if your man cheating?” Peaches asked. Everyone waited in anticipation.

“When his ass comes home late, let him sleep the rest of the night away. But early the next morning, run his ass some hot bath water and have him sit in the tub. If his dick floats up to the top, that means his ass has been out there fucking around ’cause he ain’t got no more strength down there.”

The entire salon burst out laughing.

“I’m serious—a heavy dick will sink to the bottom, but an empty one will float,” the sista continued.

Another girl stood up. “Girl, my man started off giving me roses, cards, and other nice gifts. But now the only thing he gives me is grief. He had the nerve one night to ask me to stop by the store and get some condoms on my way to his house. Shiiiit, I told his ass I’m already bringing the pussy, now I got to bring the damn condoms, too?”

There was continued laughter.

“Needless to say, he’s my ex now,” she continued.

“Your ex? I thought you two were getting married next year,” Peaches said, concerned.

“We were until I called Psychic Cindy on his ass and she told me he was cheating.”

“A psychic, girl?” Stephanie asked.

“Hell, yeah. Psychic Cindy is the shit. She told me things about myself that only me and God knows. That’s why I believe she was telling the truth. Months later, just like she said, I came home one day and caught him in the act. On the same sheets I lay my ass on every night.”

“Wow!” Stephanie replied.

“That’s right. There’s no price on happiness. Whatever works, girl,” Peaches continued.

This went on and on throughout the course of getting our hair done. By the time Mary had finished my hair, I’d developed an appetite. When Stephanie’s hair was done, we all gathered our things and said our good-byes as we walked to the door of the salon.

“Are you guys hungry?” I asked as we exited.

“Hell, yeah, I’m starving,” Tangie replied.

Stephanie looked confused at the question and didn’t respond.

“What about you, Stephanie? You want to go to the Cheesecake Factory?” I asked.

She paused for a moment. “I don’t know. Let me call Curtis.”

“What? Forget his ass. He didn’t even pick up the damn phone when you called the first time.”

Wrinkles formed on Stephanie’s forehead. “Forget it, you’re right—let’s go to the Cheesecake Factory.”