Peeling Back the Top Layer 🇯🇲

37| Whose man?

Never did I imagine the shameful mess awaiting me this morning inside the restroom. Yet, here I am heedlessly entering the scene chosen for a war of words. It is organized by none other than Shanice, who thinks it wise to take a crack at me the second my legs cross over the threshold. Well, a war is what she intends but I refuse to step down from my high to let that happen.

Her eyes fly up to mine in the mirror before which she stands and she makes the first strike, singing, "I've got your man and you can't do anything about it."

The line catches me off guard but the punch to the gut I'm sure she is banking on is far out of reach. In fact, her ridiculous ambush is more of a tickle to my sides because all I want to do is laugh when my mind registers the mischief she's trying to unfurl. But if you play stupid games then you win stupid prizes.

As I duck into one of the cubicles, I join in with the next line of the song. "You may think he is coming back to you but, I doubt it." After all, she doesn't have my man. She has been ensnared in whatever trap my gay ex set for her and I sincerely hope she won't have to saw off a leg to get out of it.

The room falls quiet for a moment and just when I think the childishness is over, her bathroom buddy Tanisha picks up the next line from the adjoining cubicle. "Don't make no sense you even call him and try to work out it, cause I've got your man and you can't do anything about it," we both sing. Tanisha laughs boisterously at the end.

Shanice rolls her eyes scornfully, scrunching up her nose in disgust. The color drains from her face, which smoothes out into a shocked expression, when she realizes that I witnessed her reaction. My response is limited to a disapproving tsk and dismissive head shake, as I quickly wash my hands then leave.

"Woooiiiiiiii... Nuh draw mi inna yuh foolishness," Tanisha laughs when the door closes behind me. "Bout yuh a sing song. Yuh betta lef di woman alone!"

I return to my office no less happy than I was before leaving but the pieces of work that I have due are overwhelming. If only Shanice was as good at her work as she is at talking shit then my life would be much easier. The thought is barely out of my mind when she comes knocking on my office door and I look at her with a self-satisfied smirk.

"Hi, is everything alright?" I quickly save the changes I made to the document I'm editing and swivel my chair to face her with my most welcoming smile.

"Umm... I just want to let you know that mi never mean anything by the song this morning." She hangs her head humbly. The absence of an apology must be something she picked up from Steven.

"That's okay, I'm not bothered. I like the song too." In this situation, I choose to maintain composure and hope that by my response, she'll learn that ruffling my feathers is not an easy feat to achieve.

"Okay, because I don't want any animosity... I'm also letting you know that Steven is interested in me and I'm considering a relationship with him."

"That's nice," I smile, adding "thanks for letting me know but you didn't have to. What you do in your personal life is none of my business and as you already know, he's my ex, so he's of no concern to me either."

Shanice nods and starts backing out of my office but I feel compelled to give her some friendly advice. "Just make sure you know what you're getting into. You are a beautiful young lady. Take your time. Don't rush."

She's just 24 years old and I have a suspicious feeling that Steven is just using her – maybe to get back at me or it could be that she'll make a perfect beard for his alternative lifestyle or it could even be both.

"I hear you," she says, leaving my office. Her humility now has me wondering what changed between this morning when she was throwing shade and her skittish behavior this afternoon. Tanisha must have knocked some sense into her head.

I shake off the thought and get back to work, wanting to be done by the time Chaunard gets here in another hour or so. Since I don't like to wait on people I try not to let others have to wait on me.

At 5:01 pm he calls to tell me that he's here, just as I shut down my computer and gather my few personal belongings.

"Perfect timing," I comment when I get into the car.

"Mi prefer come wait than fi have you ready and a ring off mi phone," he smiles.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that women can be impatient and I don't do well with annoyance."

"Anyways... is my car fixed?" I ask as he pulls out of the parking lot and into evening traffic.

"Ummm... you need a new car. It can drive now but a nuff tings wrong wid it. Di car nuh sound and feel off to you when yuh a drive it?"

"Mi hear a little rattling but otherwise mi no notice nutten odd."

"How long yuh have it?"

"Six years and about eight months," I tell him after some calculations. It's my first car. At the time it was a brand new secondhand vehicle that was imported from Japan. It has brought me through so much that I'd feel unfaithful giving it up.

"And yuh no tink a time fi yuh get an upgrade?" A hint of irritation surfaces in his voice.

"As much as I would like to buy a new one, I cannot afford it right now. My mortgage eats up a good chunk of my pay and mi no waan live hand to mouth so mi a gwaan save." That's partly true but if I'm being entirely honest, it's mostly an excuse to not part ways with Mr Benson, as I call it.

"So yuh prefer di old car lef yuh a road then?"

"Mi never seh dat. Jus cyaa manage di additional expense right now."

"Ah. Do yuh thing den," he says with such abruptness that tells me that this is not the end of the discussion and the topic will be coming up again in the near future.

"On another note," I sigh before I apprise him of what took place between me and my junior colleague today. "Shanice come to mi today and seh she just letting me know that she and Steven might get together."

He chuckles and mumbles "waste man" under his breath before I tell him about her singing the song and how I reacted.

"Poor thing. Mi will never understand why woman behave so enuh," he scoffs.

"Behave how?" I ask, curious as to where he's headed with this line of conversation.

"Confrontational and red yeye. It's like a competition and oonu always want what a next woman have. Inna all fi har case now, she not even know wah she gone pick up."

"Don't class me with everybody else. When yuh a talk mek sure yuh specify seh some woman because all of us are not the same," I scowl.

"My bad baby. You are truly a cut above the rest," he smiles while delivering that rhetoric. To add to it, he takes my hand and kisses the back of it.

"Chad, I thought you were gonna take me home," I comment when I realize that we're almost at his house.

"Fi wah?"

"To at least pick up my car so yuh no affi carry mi go work tomorrow."

He looks at me a bit annoyed and exhales audibly before saying, "Mi nuh have no problem taking you to work but if you do, you can drive one of my cars until mi at least get yuh scrap metal properly serviced."

I'm taken aback, hurt even, by him labeling my car as scrap metal. "A Mr Benson yuh really a talk bout so?"

He laughs at my reference to it by name. "Mi see seh yuh really attached to it but honestly babe, a time fi yuh get rid of it. It's embarrassing," he insists, driving through the gates when they open and parking at the front.

When we get out of the car he takes me to the side of the house, where three garage doors stand side-by-side. Inside, there are three other high-end vehicles parked, none of them older than about three years old.

"They are all licensed, insured, and most importantly ROADWORTHY," he declares.

His emphasis on the last word sinks the knife a little deeper and twists it for good measure. I flash him an angry look before marching off toward the house. I know he means well, but I'm not okay with being reprimanded and told what to do like I'm a child.