As much as we African-American men love our women, they are, at times, aggravating and frustrating (as of course are we, but this is about us!). It’s been my (and many other brothers’) experience that some (not all) sisters can be manipulative, confused, confusing and dishonest; the same as we men can. We aren’t perfect either, but that “all men are dogs” line is tired, played out and needs to be laid to rest. It’s been my experience that, when faced with the sort of man she professes to want, many sisters I’ve encountered don’t know how to deal with him and wind up driving away the very man they claim doesn’t exist.
The problem with our relationships is that not enough of us know and love Jesus, not enough of us know and love ourselves and that when it comes down to it, we’re just plain too stubborn to admit that there’s a problem. Yet here we are, the descendants of Adam and Eve, consecrated by God to play out this drama called love and relationships, drawn to each other even as we fight.
Who says God doesn’t have a sense of humor?
From the journal of Erik Dawson
***************************************
“Get out my way!”
Erik didn’t have time to react before someone shoved him knees-first into the nearest table. As a laser blast of agony seared through his already traumatized left leg, he gritted his teeth and suppressed a scream.
The offender’s friends tried unsuccessfully to get him to leave, if not apologize. Erik steadied himself, braced on his good leg and glared up at a man a foot taller than his own five foot four.
“What, you short, crippled and deaf? I said get out my way!”
Erik’s response was to remove his collapsible cane from his pocket and click it out to its useful size. He planted it on the floor for balance, stared the man down and held his ground.
“Oh, you must notta had your butt kicked lately. Otherwise, you’d get it out my way!”
You might’ve re-injured my leg just to show off for your friends, Erik thought. I don’t care how big you are- I ain’t taking this.
Sam Sanders was halfway to the door when a crowd across the room drew his attention.
What’s going on over there? Oh man, not a fight.
Sam strained to see over the crowd, and saw a six-foot brother cursing out a five-footer.
The little dude is Erik from church. He’s the guy who survived that car crash last year. Everybody talks about how well he handled his rehab and what a nice guy he is. I better help him out before Pastor has to say how nice he was in the eulogy.
A ray of common sense peeked through the curtain of Erik’s anger and revealed just how much trouble his temper had landed him in.
This is for real. Maybe I can convince him that it wouldn’t do much for his rep if he kicked my butt in front of all these people.
Erik stepped aside to let the drunk and his entourage pass.
“Look bruh, let it go. We all had a good time tonight- no need for all this.”
“Forget that! I seen you looking at my girl earlier, shorty. It’s on now!”
I had to run across a drama king. I can see the headlines now. Erik Dawson, age thirty, killed in comedy club for allegedly looking at a woman’s butt. Like you could miss it in that outfit.
Erik shook off his musings and stared at the big drunk, wondering how he’d get out of this one.
God, now would be a good time for an Old Testament miracle. Can a brother get a sling and five smooth stones right quick?
“Aw man, not again!”
Garvey Flowers emerged from backstage after a successful routine and saw the same thing he’d seen at the Comedy Cave for the past three weekends: Big Dante causing trouble.
Fool can’t get up in the morning without picking a fight.
A thought occurred to Garvey, and he headed towards the disturbance.
Maybe if I help bounce his big behind, they’ll give me a permanent gig.
Garvey sighed and made his way through the crowd, questioning why he chose this profession in the first place.
With no hope of a diplomatic solution, Erik brought his cane up and held it like a Star Wars character’s light saber. The drunk snickered.
“Oh, you went and got your own switch? Give it here then, and take your whipping like a man.”
Erik surprised even himself by flashing an obscene gesture with his free left hand. In his mind, Big Dante exploded forward like a panther. In reality, he moved like a turtle on Prozac. Erik had time to sidestep, make a sandwich, pivot on his injured leg, eat the sandwich and use the cane to trip Big Dante headfirst into a table.
Bystanders laughed as Big Dante stood up, apple martinis and beer dripping off his head. Erik tensed for a second attack.
I’m only gonna get one shot at him- it’ll have to count.
“Boy, I’m’a bust your - - -.”
“What’s your problem?”
A voice sounded behind Erik just as he prepared to hit Big Dante below the belt. Sam pushed his way through the crowd of onlookers, grabbed Dante and spun him around. Erik blinked in surprise at the sight of an unexpected benefactor, but stayed focused on Big Dante, determined to use the cane on him again if he so much as flinched in Erik’s direction.
“Is it a problem over here?”
The voice from behind Dante startled all of them. As Dante turned, Garvey steeled himself against the man's toxic breath and got right in his face.
“You ain’t gonna come in here every weekend causing trouble. Take your bad-breath-having-rode-the-short-bus-to-school behind on somewhere before I put my foot in it.”
Big Dante blinked in surprise. “Oh, you want some too? We can go!”
Sam stepped closer. “Since you’re not into fair fights, how about all three of us?”
Big Dante looked uneasy. Sam was his height, and Garvey was about five inches shorter, but stocky enough to give him pause. And Erik was short, but armed.
Erik wanted to break into a holy dance, but maintained his cool.
“Like I said bruh, let it go. It ain’t worth all the drama.”
Big Dante allowed his humiliated girlfriend and the couple with them to lead him away. Erik kept his cane ready and watched Dante and his entourage until they cleared the door.
Garvey put a hand of Erik’s shoulder. “You a’ight, man?”
“Yeah.” Erik smiled and relaxed. “Whew, that was close. I almost had to jack him up!”
Garvey and Sam looked at Erik, looked at each other and then exploded with laughter. Erik tried to maintain his poker face, but lost the battle and laughed until his back hurt. He sat down, still laughing.
Sam regained his breath first. “Man, you should be the one onstage!”
Garvey gasped for air. “You ain’t kidding- that was funnier then anything I said all month!”
Erik caught his breath. “Seriously though, thanks, both of you. It was about to get ugly.”
“Man, that was a hour past ugly!” Garvey laughed. “He was gonna knock you into next week and beat you again when you got there!”
The three men introduced themselves and exchanged brother-hugs and hand pounds all around. The crowd around them dispersed and spread the story about the almost-fight to those who were too far back to see what really happened.
“Listen fellas, thanks for having my back. I was about to go get something to eat. Come with me and I’ll hook you up- it’s the least I can do.”
Garvey's eyes lit up. “I don’t turn down free food. Lead on!”
The three men ended up at the Golden Dove on DuPont Highway, one of the only restaurants in the state of Delaware open past midnight. It wasn’t crowded, and they got a table right away.
Sam picked up his menu. “Erik, what were you gonna do if we hadn’t stepped in?”
“Appraise his family jewels with my cane.”
Sam and Garvey cracked up.
“And if that didn’t stop him, I was gonna lie there and try to control the bleeding until the ambulance came.”
“Good plan. Ever consider running?”
Erik frowned. “I don’t run well these days, Garvey. Besides, he took me there. It didn’t make one bit of sense for me to stare him down like that, but when he pushed me, I lost it. And by the time common sense kicked in, it was too late to back down.”
Sam drank from his water glass. “Did I see you give him the finger right before he came at you?”
Erik blushed. “Yeah. Not the smartest thing to do under the circumstances.”
“Man, that dude was from Beat Down, Alabama and he was ready to take you home for a visit!” Garvey shook his head. “The police woulda found you lying in the parking lot and wondered if those were tattoes on your butt or footprints!”
They all laughed, but Erik stopped suddenly.
He’s right. That moose would’ve worn me out. I almost threw away eight months of physical therapy for some idiot.
“You okay, bruh?”
Erik forced the self-recriminations down. “Yeah, I’m cool. It was stupid for me to challenge him. I mean, I ain’t been out the hospital that long and he would’ve put me right back in. Glad you two were there. It looked like everybody else there wanted to watch him feed me my cane!”
“I gotta admit, I helped you for selfish reasons.” Garvey chuckled. “I been performing there the past three weekends, and darn if Big Dante hasn’t acted a straight fool every time I’m there. I figured if I helped throw him out, the owner might offer me a contract.”
“Whatever works. I’m just glad you did it. How about you, Sam? Why’d you jump in it?”
“Guess I’ve got a Batman complex or something. I couldn’t just let that big joker push you around and not do anything about it. Besides, if Pastor Nathan found out I saw you in trouble and didn’t help, he might have put me out of Calvary!” Garvey blinked. “Oh, you do go to Calvary! I thought I seen you there. You sing on the choir, don’t you?”
“Yeah, the Men’s Choir. I’m about the tallest guy there- you can’t miss me!” They laughed and talked for another hour, barely pausing long enough to eat. Erik paid the check and they stepped out into the cool night air. Both Sam and Garvey noticed that Erik winced within a few steps outside and had to pull out his cane again.
Sam reached out a hand to steady Erik if necessary. “You okay?”
Erik waved him off. “Yeah, I’m good. I just overdid it tonight. I’m supposed to walk as much as I can without using the cane so my leg will get stronger, but fighting a homicidal drunk is definitely pushing it too far.”
Garvey thought for a moment. “Erik, if it’s none of my business, just tell me. However, I’m real nosy and I want to know what happened. Your accident I mean.”
The three of them had reached their cars. Erik sat on the hood of his father’s Buick LeSabre, and the others followed suit.
“Since you had my back tonight, the least I can do is tell you. I gotta warn you though, this ain’t a short story. We could be here a minute.”
Erik didn’t have time to react before someone shoved him knees-first into the nearest table. As a laser blast of agony seared through his already traumatized left leg, he gritted his teeth and suppressed a scream.
The offender’s friends tried unsuccessfully to get him to leave, if not apologize. Erik steadied himself, braced on his good leg and glared up at a man a foot taller than his own five foot four.
“What, you short, crippled and deaf? I said get out my way!”
Erik’s response was to remove his collapsible cane from his pocket and click it out to its useful size. He planted it on the floor for balance, stared the man down and held his ground.
“Oh, you must notta had your butt kicked lately. Otherwise, you’d get it out my way!”
You might’ve re-injured my leg just to show off for your friends, Erik thought. I don’t care how big you are- I ain’t taking this.
Sam Sanders was halfway to the door when a crowd across the room drew his attention.
What’s going on over there? Oh man, not a fight.
Sam strained to see over the crowd, and saw a six-foot brother cursing out a five-footer.
The little dude is Erik from church. He’s the guy who survived that car crash last year. Everybody talks about how well he handled his rehab and what a nice guy he is. I better help him out before Pastor has to say how nice he was in the eulogy.
A ray of common sense peeked through the curtain of Erik’s anger and revealed just how much trouble his temper had landed him in.
This is for real. Maybe I can convince him that it wouldn’t do much for his rep if he kicked my butt in front of all these people.
Erik stepped aside to let the drunk and his entourage pass.
“Look bruh, let it go. We all had a good time tonight- no need for all this.”
“Forget that! I seen you looking at my girl earlier, shorty. It’s on now!”
I had to run across a drama king. I can see the headlines now. Erik Dawson, age thirty, killed in comedy club for allegedly looking at a woman’s butt. Like you could miss it in that outfit.
Erik shook off his musings and stared at the big drunk, wondering how he’d get out of this one.
God, now would be a good time for an Old Testament miracle. Can a brother get a sling and five smooth stones right quick?
“Aw man, not again!”
Garvey Flowers emerged from backstage after a successful routine and saw the same thing he’d seen at the Comedy Cave for the past three weekends: Big Dante causing trouble.
Fool can’t get up in the morning without picking a fight.
A thought occurred to Garvey, and he headed towards the disturbance.
Maybe if I help bounce his big behind, they’ll give me a permanent gig.
Garvey sighed and made his way through the crowd, questioning why he chose this profession in the first place.
With no hope of a diplomatic solution, Erik brought his cane up and held it like a Star Wars character’s light saber. The drunk snickered.
“Oh, you went and got your own switch? Give it here then, and take your whipping like a man.”
Erik surprised even himself by flashing an obscene gesture with his free left hand. In his mind, Big Dante exploded forward like a panther. In reality, he moved like a turtle on Prozac. Erik had time to sidestep, make a sandwich, pivot on his injured leg, eat the sandwich and use the cane to trip Big Dante headfirst into a table.
Bystanders laughed as Big Dante stood up, apple martinis and beer dripping off his head. Erik tensed for a second attack.
I’m only gonna get one shot at him- it’ll have to count.
“Boy, I’m’a bust your - - -.”
“What’s your problem?”
A voice sounded behind Erik just as he prepared to hit Big Dante below the belt. Sam pushed his way through the crowd of onlookers, grabbed Dante and spun him around. Erik blinked in surprise at the sight of an unexpected benefactor, but stayed focused on Big Dante, determined to use the cane on him again if he so much as flinched in Erik’s direction.
“Is it a problem over here?”
The voice from behind Dante startled all of them. As Dante turned, Garvey steeled himself against the man's toxic breath and got right in his face.
“You ain’t gonna come in here every weekend causing trouble. Take your bad-breath-having-rode-the-short-bus-to-school behind on somewhere before I put my foot in it.”
Big Dante blinked in surprise. “Oh, you want some too? We can go!”
Sam stepped closer. “Since you’re not into fair fights, how about all three of us?”
Big Dante looked uneasy. Sam was his height, and Garvey was about five inches shorter, but stocky enough to give him pause. And Erik was short, but armed.
Erik wanted to break into a holy dance, but maintained his cool.
“Like I said bruh, let it go. It ain’t worth all the drama.”
Big Dante allowed his humiliated girlfriend and the couple with them to lead him away. Erik kept his cane ready and watched Dante and his entourage until they cleared the door.
Garvey put a hand of Erik’s shoulder. “You a’ight, man?”
“Yeah.” Erik smiled and relaxed. “Whew, that was close. I almost had to jack him up!”
Garvey and Sam looked at Erik, looked at each other and then exploded with laughter. Erik tried to maintain his poker face, but lost the battle and laughed until his back hurt. He sat down, still laughing.
Sam regained his breath first. “Man, you should be the one onstage!”
Garvey gasped for air. “You ain’t kidding- that was funnier then anything I said all month!”
Erik caught his breath. “Seriously though, thanks, both of you. It was about to get ugly.”
“Man, that was a hour past ugly!” Garvey laughed. “He was gonna knock you into next week and beat you again when you got there!”
The three men introduced themselves and exchanged brother-hugs and hand pounds all around. The crowd around them dispersed and spread the story about the almost-fight to those who were too far back to see what really happened.
“Listen fellas, thanks for having my back. I was about to go get something to eat. Come with me and I’ll hook you up- it’s the least I can do.”
Garvey's eyes lit up. “I don’t turn down free food. Lead on!”
The three men ended up at the Golden Dove on DuPont Highway, one of the only restaurants in the state of Delaware open past midnight. It wasn’t crowded, and they got a table right away.
Sam picked up his menu. “Erik, what were you gonna do if we hadn’t stepped in?”
“Appraise his family jewels with my cane.”
Sam and Garvey cracked up.
“And if that didn’t stop him, I was gonna lie there and try to control the bleeding until the ambulance came.”
“Good plan. Ever consider running?”
Erik frowned. “I don’t run well these days, Garvey. Besides, he took me there. It didn’t make one bit of sense for me to stare him down like that, but when he pushed me, I lost it. And by the time common sense kicked in, it was too late to back down.”
Sam drank from his water glass. “Did I see you give him the finger right before he came at you?”
Erik blushed. “Yeah. Not the smartest thing to do under the circumstances.”
“Man, that dude was from Beat Down, Alabama and he was ready to take you home for a visit!” Garvey shook his head. “The police woulda found you lying in the parking lot and wondered if those were tattoes on your butt or footprints!”
They all laughed, but Erik stopped suddenly.
He’s right. That moose would’ve worn me out. I almost threw away eight months of physical therapy for some idiot.
“You okay, bruh?”
Erik forced the self-recriminations down. “Yeah, I’m cool. It was stupid for me to challenge him. I mean, I ain’t been out the hospital that long and he would’ve put me right back in. Glad you two were there. It looked like everybody else there wanted to watch him feed me my cane!”
“I gotta admit, I helped you for selfish reasons.” Garvey chuckled. “I been performing there the past three weekends, and darn if Big Dante hasn’t acted a straight fool every time I’m there. I figured if I helped throw him out, the owner might offer me a contract.”
“Whatever works. I’m just glad you did it. How about you, Sam? Why’d you jump in it?”
“Guess I’ve got a Batman complex or something. I couldn’t just let that big joker push you around and not do anything about it. Besides, if Pastor Nathan found out I saw you in trouble and didn’t help, he might have put me out of Calvary!” Garvey blinked. “Oh, you do go to Calvary! I thought I seen you there. You sing on the choir, don’t you?”
“Yeah, the Men’s Choir. I’m about the tallest guy there- you can’t miss me!” They laughed and talked for another hour, barely pausing long enough to eat. Erik paid the check and they stepped out into the cool night air. Both Sam and Garvey noticed that Erik winced within a few steps outside and had to pull out his cane again.
Sam reached out a hand to steady Erik if necessary. “You okay?”
Erik waved him off. “Yeah, I’m good. I just overdid it tonight. I’m supposed to walk as much as I can without using the cane so my leg will get stronger, but fighting a homicidal drunk is definitely pushing it too far.”
Garvey thought for a moment. “Erik, if it’s none of my business, just tell me. However, I’m real nosy and I want to know what happened. Your accident I mean.”
The three of them had reached their cars. Erik sat on the hood of his father’s Buick LeSabre, and the others followed suit.
“Since you had my back tonight, the least I can do is tell you. I gotta warn you though, this ain’t a short story. We could be here a minute.”
Maurice M. Gray, Jr. is an author and comedian and a contributor to The Soul of a Man: A Triumph of My Soul Anthology. Female Problems will release this June. Learn more about Mr. Gray at www.mauricemgrayjr.com, and more about The Soul of a Man at http://www.peaceinthestormpublishing.com/.
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3 comments:
Now you got me on the edge of my seat waiting for the release of this story. It truly sounds like it will be a great read. I love it so far. Great job
Now I need to know what happened too. I agree this sounds like a great read.
Man, you had me laughing out loud in real life when you said Erik had time to move, eat a sandwhich and still have time to push that big dude in the table. I could tell that you were the real comedian after reading a couple of your one-liners.
That was a great cliff hanger. Erik still got one more butt whipping to dole out to some unlucky punk, lol!
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