Distractions (D. SWING)

3

The Beginnings

To escape reality, some people go off and do drugs or drink. To escape reality, I go back to New York City. Here, my home is roughly thirty minutes from my dreamland and less than five from the studio. It all works out in the end. When I tell you that I've never been so happy in my life... girl, congratulate me. I don't know how much I can dress how happy I am. It feels as though I've been born again and so has everyone around me. Finally, I caught up with everyone else in the game of life... on my grown woman shit. So, cheers to my brand new life. I'm starting from scratch this time.  I don't care how annoying I'm getting... every chance I get to say it, I'll gladly shout it to the mountain tops.

"All I wanna do is a–"

DeVante places his hand over my mouth. The muffled sound of me still singing Rump Shaker is heard underneath his large hands. Cloudless skies followed by eighty plus degree weather always get me in good mood. A good enough mood to sit here for thirty minutes while De's barber is stuck in traffic on his way to cut his hair.

Chris comes waltzing through the door. "Speak of the devil!" I laugh from my seat.

"Nigga ain't the devil. Even Lucifer known when to show up on time," frowns De's bodyguard, Ken.

The annoyed look on Chris' face is practically priceless. "Shut'cho bitch ass up," hollers back Chris. It looks as if he wasn't having too good of a day. New York traffic can do that to you.

Crossing my legs, I sit back as Chris pulls out multiple supplies needed to shape De up. A natural state of excitement begins to bubble deep within my soul all out of anticipation if meeting eye to eye with a fresh cut blessed DeVante. Ain't nothing more attractive than a young black man with a crisp haircut. I'm talking lining sharper than my heels, you hear me? Let the church say amen.

If you walk in my door looking nice with a haircut then that's an automatic reason for some good poom. No worries, no questions need to be asked and you don't have to say anything at all.

"Yo, De. Ole girl been looking for you still," says a not-so angry Chris. He sure did calm down pretty quick. "You know she looking for you, man. Why you dodging her fine ass?"

DeVante replies, "I'm not into her like that. She can stay her ass over there."

"You gone act like she don't got a big ole booty?!" Ken laughs cracking open a can of beer. I'm sorry, is security allowed to drink on the job? How are you suppose to secure the client if you're drunk. I mean you are security right? Your job is to secure.

I quietly observe and absorb the conversation.

Chris begins his job with De now fully prepared. The apron covers his clothes while a white cloth protects his next. I, personally, am worried about those antennas on the side of his head. I know Eddie hates getting hair in his ear so I can only imagine how De feels about it.

Chris clicks on the clippers. "I mean, she don't look high maintenance. That means it's all good for you."

"So you want me with a rat ass broad?" De laughs unable to move too much without ruining his hairline.

"Nah, man! I'm just saying... would you rather have a down chick or a bougie bitch?"

Hmph, this conversation looks like it'll be going down an interesting route. Grab your popcorn and drinks, ladies and gentlemen.